#wouldn't that be an invitation to spark a chat?

[icantalk710]

🚆

[nats--sw]

Gold chain (pt5) | Leah Williamson

You and Leah finally have a chat about feelings note: I have one more part to add to this series,, we need to find out what happens at Wimbledon, right? warnings: fluff and slow burn, a bit suggestive(?) nothing really pt1 pt6 my masterlist

"Hi, I stopped by to buy—" Lia was cut off when she saw Leah at the door, her face completely red and her eyes wide with panic. "Are you okay?" she asked, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

"I almost kissed her," Leah blurted out, still gripping the door handle.

"What? Who?" Lia looked around and lowered her voice. "There's a girl here?"

"Lia, oh my goodness, I kissed her," Leah said, trying to gather her thoughts. "I actually kissed her."

"Leah, what the hell are you talking about?" Lia asked, still whispering. "Who did you kiss?"

"Y/n… she— I kissed her, but it was just a peck," Leah tried to explain, covering her face with her hands.

"So what, she left after you kissed her?" Lia asked, trying to make sense of it all.

"No, she—" Leah's eyes suddenly widened as she remembered. She pushed Lia aside and rushed to the backyard. You were still there, now standing up and looking confused. Leah panicked. "I shouldn't have done that," she muttered, pacing back and forth.

"Wait, hang on a second," Lia said, still trying to catch up. "You kissed a girl."

"I wouldn't even call it a kiss," Leah said, frustration in her voice.

"And you like her."

"Yeah, but she has a lot going on right now. This would just mess things up for her and her career and I—"

"Wait, who is Y/n?" Lia interrupted, trying to piece everything together.

"Y/n is the girl I kissed. She's the tennis player, the one we watched last time, do you remember? This is the last thing she needs right now," Leah said, sounding regretful.

Lia sighed, taking it all in. "Okay, chill out. I need more information… Does she know how you feel?"

Leah stopped pacing and looked at Lia, a mix of hope and fear in her eyes. "I don't know. I don't think so. But now I've probably screwed everything up."

"Alright," Lia said, taking a deep breath. "You need to talk to her."

While that conversation was going on inside, you took the time to gather your courage and confront whatever was happening between you and Leah. She had kissed you, or at least attempted to, and you weren't going to let her run away from this. Drama like this was the last thing you needed.

With determination, you walked towards the house and stepped inside, finding Leah with her hands on her hips and Lia Walti standing a few feet away.

When you first met Leah and saw how close she and Lia were through pictures, it sparked a twinge of jealousy. Now, seeing Lia here, seemingly responsible for Leah's sudden departure upon hearing the doorbell, that jealousy flared into anger. Deep down, you knew Lia wasn't to blame, but the frustration bubbled up nonetheless.

"Y/n," Leah said, holding your gaze for just a moment before looking away.

"Leah," you replied seriously, feeling frustrated that the moment had been interrupted, knowing it could have ended so much better. Part of you wanted to scream at Leah, but another part just wanted to pull her close and kiss her.

"Hey, I'm Lia," Lia interjected, smiling as she reached out to shake your hand.

You glanced at Lia's hand with a slight frown, then looked over at Leah, who noticed the change in your expression. "It's nice to meet you," Lia said, trying to maintain a friendly tone.

"Hmm," was all you added, nodding your head as you took Lia's hand, giving it a firm and deliberately prolonged squeeze. 

Lia immediately caught on to the meaning behind your reaction.

"I'm Leah's teammate. We've been friends for years," Lia said, subtly trying to dispel any misinterpretations. "I understand you're a tennis player, right? I remember watching one of your matches with Leah."

"Yeah, ranked 4th in the world," you said, a touch of arrogance in your smile. You knew you'd slipped a spot in the rankings recently, but that wasn't something Lia needed to know. Jealousy had twisted Lia's innocent words into a perceived threat, which clearly wasn't the case.

Leah watched the interaction between the two of you with discomfort, so she decided to break the silence.

"Uh, I'd forgotten I invited Lia to dinner today," Leah said, her voice tinged with nervousness as she grabbed her car keys from the table. She glanced at Lia and then at you. "I can drop you off at your hotel if you want, or I can order an Uber, whichever is more convenient for you," she offered, fidgeting with the keys avoiding your eyes.

Lia suppressed an urge to intervene, Leah was only making things worse. She widened her eyes in surprise and then looked down, feeling the tension rise.

"Do I have to go?" you asked, pointing at yourself, visibly taken aback.

"Oh— I mean, I wasn't sure if you wanted to stay," Leah stumbled over her words, glancing at Lia for help.

"Don't worry," you replied firmly. "I'll go change and then get an Uber," you continued, remembering how Leah had lent you some clothes after breakfast to make you feel more comfortable. "I can't let you leave your guest here alone; that would be rude," you added, almost mumbling as you headed towards the guest room.

Leah just stared as you walked away without saying anything.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Lia hissed, giving Leah a light slap on the back of her head.

"What are you talking about?" Leah asked, rubbing her head where Lia had hit her.

"How could you even think about kicking her out of your house?" Lia questioned, furrowing her brow in frustration.

"I just didn't want things to get awkward. She seemed a bit uncomfortable around people she doesn't know," Leah explained defensively.

Lia shook her head, struggling to comprehend Leah's actions.

"She's jealous!" Lia whispered to Leah, lowering her voice even further.

"She's not!" Leah said. "Why would she be?"

"Because you kissed her, and now you're practically pushing her out to spend time with another woman," Lia retorted, her frustration mounting. "She must be feeling incredibly hurt right now. I've never seen anyone look at me with such disdain."

Leah took a moment to process Lia's words. She realized she had been kind of dumb about it.

"I feel like I'm messing everything up," Leah confessed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her eyes closed. "I don't know what I'm doing with her."

Lia sighed deeply and placed a reassuring hand on Leah's shoulder.

"I just... I think you're letting nerves get the best of you. I haven't seen you like this in ages," Lia remarked softly.

"I do like her, but... I'm not sure. I care about her a lot, but I don't know if she's ready for a relationship right now," Leah admitted.

"You need to talk to her about it," Lia advised, giving Leah a supportive pat on the back. "Don't let her slip away. She's hot" Lia added with a smirk this time, earning a playful tap on the back from Leah. "Ouch."

With your phone in hand, you walked back into the living room, surprised to find Leah alone, leaning against the couch with her arms crossed.

"I'm leaving now," you said, not bothering to ask where Lia had gone.

Leah took a deep breath and spoke calmly, her voice composed. She had regained her composure and wasn't going to let things get out of hand. She knew how to take control and wasn't going to let her racing heart mess things up again.

"You don't have to leave," she said, looking you straight in the eyes.

"Leah, cut it out," you replied, still annoyed.  "I'll get an Uber and that's it. Let's not complicate things."

As you headed for the door, Leah quickly moved to block your path, grabbing your wrist before you could open it.

"If you're leaving, at least let me take you," she said, her expression a mix of seriousness and sadness. "I brought you here, after all."

You hesitated, biting your lip as you considered her request.

"Please," Leah pleaded, her thumb gently stroking your wrist.

The ride back wasn't nearly as enjoyable as the ride to Leah’s house. Leah didn't say a word, only glancing over when she needed to switch lanes. The rest of the time, she stared straight ahead, jaw clenched and a deep frown creasing her face. Her grip on the steering wheel was tight, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.

She was clearly irritated, maybe with herself. 

“Or maybe with me?” you thought to yourself.

But you were annoyed too. You were often criticized for being stubborn; people always told you that you never backed down. But maybe this time you should. After all, you had been pretty harsh with Lia, who eventually left Leah's place. That was the one thing you could apologize for. The rest? That was all Leah's business. After all, she was the one who kissed you first, then decided to leave you alone in her backyard and almost kicked you out of her house.

You needed to talk, that was sure. 

"I want you to come with me to my room," you said in a low, almost embarrassed tone. You weren't about to apologize for acting like a teenager in a parking lot.

Leah nodded, and as soon as you arrived at your hotel, she stepped out of the car and followed you inside. 

The room greeted you with its untouched state, just your bags thrown on the bed. Leah felt a bit uneasy; everything seemed too neat and cold.

"Leah, I..." you began.

"Y/n," Leah cut in. She raised her hand, signaling to go first. "I'm sorry about what happened at my place," she said sadly. "I was too nervous. I don't know what I was thinking. I was overwhelmed because all I could think about was that I kissed you, and I'm not sure if that was the right move or not," she admitted, pausing between each word.

"What do you mean you're not sure if kissing me was right?" you asked, feeling a pang of hurt. Did Leah regret it?

"I... I'm trying to see things from your side," Leah explained. "You've got a lot going on, and I don't want us to be another problem on your list," she said sincerely.

"This isn't a problem," you said quickly, your brow furrowing. "You're not the problem. How I feel about you—well, that's more complicated. We're in this uncertain place, and it's throwing me off," you added, trying to articulate your feelings. "I might be impulsive, but I crave stability. When you kiss me and then seem to regret it, it messes with my head. If you want to kiss me, Leah, I need you to be sure."

"What?" Leah took a step back, her expression caught between surprise and confusion, as you leaned in closer.

"Do you like me?" you asked directly.

"Yes, of course I like you," Leah said, stumbling over her words.

"Good, because I like you too," you said quickly. "I want to give us a shot, Leah. I want to go on dates with you, watch you play, have you come watch me play. I want all of that and more, but I need you to be sure."

"I am sure," Leah said, straightening up where she stood. "But I'm scared this will interfere with your career. I know relationships demand a lot, and I can be pretty intense, but I also just want to be there for you, to hug you and hold you when everything feels overwhelming. I want to be the person by your side through the tough times."

Her voice softened with determination as she closed the distance between you, reaching out to gently cup your cheeks in her hands.

"I want to get to know you even more," Leah said, locking eyes with you. "I want us to be there for each other when things get tough, to lean on each other through the ups and downs." Her gaze held a sincerity that touched you deeply. “You're someone I really want to know,” she added softly. “Just getting to know a part of you was enough to make me practically lose it when I'm around you.”

Her words left you speechless, a lump forming in your throat. Leah's honesty and vulnerability caught you off guard. You struggled to find words, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment and your deepening feelings for her. But you knew you couldn't leave Leah hanging without a response.

You slid your hand to the back of her neck and pulled her close. When your lips met, it felt like everything clicked into place. 

Leah's lips were soft, and you couldn't resist teasingly biting them. Her hand traced down from your cheek to your waist, and it sent shivers down your spine.

"I think I'm going to fall for you," you murmured against her lips, resting your forehead against hers as you both caught your breath. Your cheeks flushed with warmth, mirroring Leah's own blush.

"Please do," Leah murmured, kissing you again with a gentle urgency. She guided you over to the couch, plopping down and pulling you onto her lap. She held you close, her arms wrapped around your waist, and the kisses kept coming.

You couldn't tell where one kiss ended and the next began, Leah's hands sliding down your back, sending shivers through you. Leah's lips traced a path from your jaw down to your neck, her hand slipping under your shirt at the same time, sending sparks through your skin.

"Wait, Leah," you said, placing your hands on her shoulders, trying to muster the strength to pull away. But Leah looked irresistible, her mouth slightly open, lips swollen from kissing and your bites, eyes dark and dilated with desire.

"Too fast?" she asked softly, her hands resting on your thighs, gently stroking them up and down. You nodded, not trusting your voice to come out steady.

"I'm sorry," Leah apologized, but her smile was sweet rather than mischievous. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No," you replied, settling more comfortably onto her lap. Leah took that as a green light, wrapping her arms around your back and pulling you into a warm, cozy hug. 

Because of the way you were sitting, Leah's head rested level with your chest, her ear pressed against your heartbeat. 

"Your heart's racing," she murmured, hugging you tighter. 

You didn't say anything, just hugged her back, clinging to her like a koala. 

"Shut up," you mumbled, feeling embarrassed. "Can you... I mean, do you want to stay the night?" you asked in a whisper.

Leah chuckled softly. "Well, it’s not like I have much of a choice," she teased, referring to how you had her cornered against the back of the couch.

"Are you uncomfortable?" you whispered softly, your voice muffled against Leah's neck.

"I'm comfy," Leah whispered with her eyes closed. "You're warm, it feels nice."

"Feels nice to me too," you replied softly.

You had lent Leah a pair of your pajamas after room service brought dinner. Now, you were both in bed, facing each other. Under the covers, your legs were tangled together, as if that was enough to keep her from leaving.

"I think it's time to say I love your eyes," you murmured, taking advantage of the dim lighting. It was dark enough to hide how flushed you were, but still light enough to see her reaction. "They're such a pretty color, and they sparkle so much. It's unfair that I've spent so much time looking at them only through a screen."

Leah held her breath for a moment, her heart racing. "Do you like them that much?" she asked, moving a little closer to you. You nodded. "I also like your eyes, your lips, your nose, god, everything about you... I never want to stop seeing your face ever."

You blushed even more, feeling the heat on your cheeks, but you couldn't help but smile. "Stop saying adorable things," you said with a soft laugh.

Leah took your hand gently, intertwining her fingers with yours. "You'll have to get used to it. I could make a list of things I have to tell you for every date we’ll go on."

"You're already planning dates?"

"I won't let you get away from me," Leah laughed, stroking her thumb over your hand.

You were silent for a moment, enjoying the feel of her fingers intertwined with yours.

"Sounds good to me," you finally said, looking Leah in the eye. "I'm ready for those dates."

Leah's smile widened, her eyes sparkling even more. "Then get ready for a lot more of this," she whispered, leaning in to give you a goodnight kiss on your lips.

[robin-evry]

𝐃𝐑. 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 👩‍🔬🔭

Ever since you accepted towards the genius society, you and veritas relationship has been strained for the past few days. Thinking it would all go back by giving him space. Until he breaks up with you...

( English is not my first language )

Playing - Goddess by laufey

You and veritas were both professors in the same university and that's how you both meet. Originally he was unbearable wearing that plaster on his face. Saying that he can't stand seeing the face of idiots. And he was referring to you.

But slowly sparks started to bloom. You are the only one that can match his intellectual aspect, and soon you both started to fall in love slowly.

One day he finally takes his plaster off and reveals his face.

Reader : I thought you said, you can't stand looking at idiots

Dr ratio : I don't, but as long as it's you. I wouldn't mind looking at you.

Soon you guys started to go for coffee together, bathing together, admiring the galaxy, enjoying and basking the presents of each other not minding the world because there's only one in each other's worlds.

During your first anniversary of dating, you gave him a two set custom made identical rubber duck of him as well as you, so when takes a bath. Rubber duck him and you will always be seen swimming together

You've always noticed his disappointment of not being accepted towards the genius society and you were there to comfort him and reassure him that he will always be enough.

It's only you and him in the sky, nothing could separate you guys. Even tho he or you are unbearable towards the other but deep inside you feel that there's love for the other one.

Many people said you guys are a perfect match. Everything was perfect until....

One day, you receive an invitation to join the genius society as its number 85# member. Everyone claps and congratulates you and when you look at him, he has this look of betrayal. When you guys are back at home, he stays in his office for the entire night leaving in the once warm bed.

During your congratulation party hosted by the university, many famous people as well as genius society members come to welcome the newest 85# member herta, ruan mei, screwllum, Stephen Lloyd, etc. during your official meeting with herta, veritas was with you, she didn't even acknowledge his existence only looking at you not gazing at him once. She asks for your cooperation towards building a project called simulation universe.

Even some IPC higher-ups arrive to celebrate. You see aventurine chatting with veritas in the corner, until one particular stone heart member introduces himself, his name was sugilite and he kisses your palm as well sending a wink. Suddenly someone sends a cough and it catches both of you guys attention. It was veritas. He said he has some business with you.

Before you can pull your arm away, veritas gently drags you away from the stone heart, and leads you to the balcony after asking are you okay he said he has some work to do and leave the party early.

By far your relationship has become strained, he always faces the other way of the bed without looking at you, he rarely talks to you only asking how are you or how's your day, he hesitated to touch you even when you wrap your arms around his waist he was hesitating whenever or not to touch you.

Recently since you are planning on working with herta on the simulation universe. Your office was told to be removed from the intelligence guild to the herta space station, for maximum work with herta on the simulation universe. Thinking you will only be gone for a few months and will be back to be with veritas.

Until he meets you in an isolated garden in the intelligence guild, he said you guys should break up. The world seems to stop, every thought of doubt comes to your mind and the only thing that comes out of your mouth is oh okay. You were just shocked and he leaves. After a few minutes after he left you sat at a bench and cried your hearts out.

Soon news about you guys breaking up quickly, but instead of crying your hearts out, you bury yourself into your work. Making sure everything is perfect unlike your love. But sometimes memories or reminders of him come towards your mind and make you stop mid-way. But soon you will continue to work. Also recently some gifts started to appear as well large amounts of credit donation towards your project with only one indication from who it was from, the secret admirer gave you jewelry made by the stone "sugilite".

When you try to ask for herta or ruan mei advice, they unfortunately said they are not experts in the fields of romance, but screwllum has been a big help, he will try to find ways to comfort you. You joke to him saying that he has more heart than a human being.

During your audience with nous the aeon themselves, you were allowed to ask any question but there were hundreds of questions but you settled towards one "why do people change" unfortunately you were unable to get a clear answer from the aeon.

You guys haven't been in contact for over one year. Until you meet him again when he visits the space station to inspect the simulation universe for the IPC.

[atinyslittleworld]

Just Like That

yunho x f!reader

Summary: Yunho invited his girlfriend over to his dorm room, while all the members were there

Word Count: 611

Genre: 18+, MDNI, established relationship

Warnings: smut

Yunho and Y/N had planned a quiet evening together in his dorm room. The other members were around, so they knew they had to be discreet. The room was small but cozy, decorated with posters and photos from their adventures with the group. It was late and the rest of the members were scattered around the dorm, either playing video games, chatting or preparing for bed.

Yunho closed the door behind them turning to Y/N with a warm smile. “We should keep it down,” he whispered, his eyes sparking with mischief.

Y/N nodded, giggling softly. “Yeah, we don’t want to give them any material to tease us with.”

They sat on his bed, talking and enjoying each other’s company. As the night wore on, the atmosphere shifted, their touches becoming moe intimate. Yunho’s kisses trailed down Y/N’s neck and she couldn’t help but let out a soft moan.

"Shh," Yunho murmured against her skin, her lips curving into a smile. "Remember we have an audience."

Y/N bit her lip, trying to stay quiet as Yunho's hands roamed over her body. The tension between them grew and soon, they were lost in each other. Yunho's touch was gentle yet insistent and Y/N's breaths came in quick, quiet gasps.

"Just like that," Yunho whispered, his voice low and husky.

Y/N's fingers raced at his words and she nodded, her hands gripping his shoulders. Yunho's movements became more purposeful, his whispered encouragements spurring Y/N on. "Just like that baby," he repeated, as he ran his palms from her hips up to her shoulder blades.

Y/N's fingers dug into Yunho's back as they moved together, their bodies perfectly in sync. "Just like that, yeah," Yunho murmured again, his hands leaving her body and resting them on the bed left and right his body, that way having more power in his thrusts. Yunho's head fell behind, while Y/N had her hands on his shoulders bouncing on top of him.

Y/N's soft moans and Yunho's quiet murmurs filled the room, blending with the distant sounds of the other members. Despite their best efforts to stay quiet the intensity of their connection made it difficult.

"Just like that," Yunho whispered one last time, his voice trembling with emotion.

They reached their highs together, their bodies trembling with pleasure. Y/N collapsed beside Yunho, both of them trying to catch their breath without making too much noise. They lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow, before reluctantly pulling apart.

"I should go," Y/N whispered, nearing Yunho's face and leaving a kiss on his cheek.

Yunho nodded, his eyes soft. "Yeah, before they start wondering."

Y/N quickly dressed and gave Yunho another lingering kiss. "I love you," she whispered, slipping out the door.

As she left, Yunho could hear the muffled laughter and teasing remarks from the other members. He braced himself, knowing what was coming. The door to the common area swung open and there they were, grinning like Chesire cats.

"So, had a good time?" Wooyoung teased, winking.

"We could hear you guys," Jongho added with a smirk. "Just like that, huh?"

Yunho rolled his eyes, too tired to argue. He sprawled on the couch, letting out a long, contented sigh. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he muttered, a smile tugging at his lips despite his exhaustion.

Seonghwa chuckled, thowing a pillow at Yunho. "You owe us for the free entertainment."

"Whatever," Yunho replied, closing his eyes and sinking deeper into the couch. "I'm too tired to care."

The members continued to laugh and tease, but Yunho was already half-asleep, a satisfied smile on his face. Despite the embarrassement, he wouldn't trade moments like these for anything.

[momotonescreaming]

and the day pressed on

Rating: G | WC: 2.1k | Evan Buckley/Tommy Kinard mentioned MCD, mourning, emotional hurt/comfort, not quite getting back together, hopeful ending [Read on AO3]

They had been in a sort of weird liminal space since Buck had called Tommy to the top of that building, since the spark between them reignited in the middle of that helicopter, since the lab, since Bobby's death. They were moving in a lot of silence, drifting around the other but never quite getting close.

Buck wanted to talk about it. Get an answer, lay all their cards down on the table. Talk about the breakfast and Tommy wanting to try again, about the bottle of champagne he left behind. Buck wanted to talk about Tommy coming when he called, about 'and for you'. He wanted to talk about the baking he's been doing, about the longing and debating on whether to call him. He wanted to tell Tommy he missed him too.

But he couldn't force the words out. Could barely speak. So he didn't.

So while the 118 were still off work, and Tommy was temporarily grounded — they sort of existed around each other. Buck had to be strong, he had to be okay, he had to help the others while he processed.

It still didn't seem real.

So he made muffins and casseroles and other things that were easy to reheat or easy to grab and go. Ignores the recipes he got from Bobby and doesn't think about why. He went to therapy, and even there he could still barely get the words out. But he still went.

And through it all, was Tommy. He helped Buck do the dishes, and chop vegetables, and went grocery shopping. He ran him a bath and made his bed. He drove him to therapy and got gas for him on the drive home.

Tommy was always there for him. And Buck wanted to be there for him too, wanted to fall into Tommy's arms and collapse — but he couldn't. It's like his body wouldn't listen. He was in constant motion, always moving, always helping, always teetering on the edge of okay.

He called Eddie, snatching time away for short stilted conversations. He invited Ravi around so he wouldn't be alone. He brought food over to Hen and Karen, chatting with them in the doorway before he was gently ushered outside. He bought food to Athena and the kids, tried to make it something she didn't have to worry about cooking, to their gratitude. Spent time with Maddie, and with Jee, before she had to run off to another appointment. Tried to track down Chimney.

And then he went home to Tommy. He wasn't alone. And they ate dinner and went to bed together and existed in weird muddy sort of space where they weren't quite broken up and weren't quite together. Where Bobby wasn't alive, but wasn't quite buried yet either.

Nothing felt real, nothing was solid, nothing was holding him together. He was just sort of existing. He was fuzzy around the edges, blurring into the world around him like TV static.

So when Tommy approached him one morning — as he was flipping through recipe books for other easy dinners to make — and told him to get dressed, they were going out. Buck just sort of listened. He didn't have it in him to protest. He trusted Tommy. He was helping him keep moving, keeping held together.

Buck got dressed. Put on jeans and a clean cardigan. Quickly styled his curls and put on shoes. Shut the windows and made sure the house was locked — going through the rooms on autopilot. And when he was done, wallet and phone in pocket, he found Tommy standing by the front door. The keys to his truck held loosely in his hand.

"Ready to go?" Tommy says, not mentioning where they're going. Buck doesn't ask. He nods.

Buck locks the door behind them, as Tommy heads to his truck, parked in the driveway. It's become an achingly familiar sight, comforting. That he can go home and immediately know that Tommy is there. A part of him wonders if Tommy would feel the same if he were to park the Jeep in Tommy's driveway.

He gets in the truck, sliding into the passenger seat. Listening to Tommy connect his phone so he can start playing music, soft rock trailing through the speakers as Buck puts on his seat belt.

Then they're off, the rumble of the engine underneath him, and the world blurring past the windows. A smear of colour, his neighbourhood passing in what feels like seconds. He knows it isn't. Tommy's a safe driver. He wouldn't risk them like that.

And before he knows it, they're pulled over on the side of the road, Tommy having parallel parked perfectly. The neighbourhood seems familiar, itching on the edge of his brain. There are a line of various shops and restaurants, a small commercial area tucked away within L.A.

Tommy gets out, so Buck follows suit.

They walk side by side down the sidewalk, still not saying anything. But the sun is out, there's only a gentle breeze, and Buck's numb enough that it doesn't feel like the happy weather is taunting them. So they walk, Tommy leading the way while Buck's pinky finger twitches. Itching to reach out and link up with Tommy, to hold his hand they way they used to. His hand would be warm, calloused, a steady presence.

He doesn't know if it would be right, not before they talk about it. The elephant in the room. So he walks, hand itching. Looking in the windows of the shops, at the people and the cars passing them by, blissfully unaware. He wonders where they're going. Where Tommy's taking him.

"We're here," Tommy says, gesturing at a nondescript coffee shop, clad in the usual L.A stylings. White walls, pale wood, pops of floral and coffee themed imagery. It's not the same, but it looks a lot like the cafe where he asked Tommy for a second chance. It even has a side garden Buck's breath hitches, and he wonders if that's what Tommy's got him here for. He doesn't know how to feel about it.

"I wanted to get out of the house," Tommy adds with a shrug, entirely too casual. He must've seen something on his face. He always was good at reading him. "Get some fresh air."

Oh. The I think you needed to get out of the house, Evan, and this is my way of getting you to do it goes unsaid. There are so many things that need to be done, the weight of the still unscheduled funeral hanging over their heads. So many people to help, to visit, and only so little time. Buck wouldn't have gone on his own, or if anyone else for that matter — had asked him.

But they're here now, and Buck can see an earnest little furrow to Tommy's brow. It's fine, Buck thinks, they've came all this way. Tommy found a park and everything. And Tommy won't make him talk about it, not here, not in public. Not with so many people watching.

"Coffee and fresh air sounds nice," Buck says with an inhale of air and a forced relax of his shoulders. He's sure Tommy clocks the weirdness in his tone, the twitch of his hands, his measured breathing. So Tommy smiles, calm, easy, and opens the door for him.

He doesn't think about the stale air of the lab, the oxygen that comes from their tanks, he doesn't think about how Bobby died without breathing fresh air once last time.

He doesn't.

Instead he watches as Tommy opens the front door to the cafe, waiting for Buck to enter ahead of him. He breathes as he enters the gently air conditioned room, inhaling in the scent of coffee and baked goods. He feels himself inhale sharply as he feels Tommy gently press his hand to the small of his back as he ushers him inside. Thick, and large, and a warm comforting presence on his back before it's quickly gone and Tommy guides them to the small line forming at the front counter.

He thinks about the first time Tommy rested his hand at the small of his back, that first date at Miceli's where he really put his foot in it and immediately regretted it. Thinks about the first time Tommy rested his hand there to gently guide him out of the way. A small gentlemanly gesture that Buck liked doing to his partners, but quickly found he really liked when it was done to him.

Buck wishes Tommy let his hand linger. He doesn't know how to talk about it, so he doesn't. He looks at Tommy, sees something in his face, in the wrinkles that start to form in the corner of his eyes. The slight press and curl of his mouth. Buck wonders if Tommy wants it too.

Neither of them say anything. Instead, Tommy asks if he wants to order with him, or go save them a table outside. Buck goes outside, goes to the little courtyard, walking on autopilot as he scans for a free table. He knows, that if he went to the counter with Tommy, orders his drink to go, Tommy would have followed his lead and they would have left the cafe once they got their coffees. But maybe Tommy is right, it might be nice to get some fresh air. Sit down and breathe.

He finds a table in the corner of the courtyard, next to the wall covered in creeping ivy, semi secluded under a navy blue sun umbrella. He sits on one of their trendy but uncomfortable porch chairs, sun hitting his back, warming the fabric of his shirt.

Buck stares at the whorls and patterns in the wooden table, focuses on the sun above him and the gentle breeze around him, as the sounds of the other tables fade away into the background. Sounds of the barista working the coffee machine through the doorway into the coffee shop proper, the sounds of the other patrons taking, the sounds of L.A outside. Tapping his foot, sneakers against concrete, Buck tries to resist the urge to take one of those little sugar packets out of the holder in the centre of the table and start ripping it to shreds.

Instead he taps his fingers against the wood, runs his fingertips along the grooves of the table, and waits. Watches the leaves sway gently in the breeze. The cafe buzzes around him, a cacophony of sounds, and Buck can hear everything but also nothing. Each individual sound blurring together to blur with the buzzing inside his head. The itch in his fingers.

There's a scrape of a chair against the floor.

Buck looks up, jolting out of it, the sound cutting through the noise — and there's Tommy. Sitting down across from him, placing a little metal stand with their table number down on the edge of the table. He's smiling gently, and Buck's sure he saw him startle, but he doesn't say anything.

"I ordered your usual," Tommy starts, scooting the chair in. "I hope that's okay."

"Y-yeah," Buck replies, touched, trying not to feel relieved that Tommy still remembers his coffee order. "Thank you."

"No worries," Tommy replies, and they settle into silence. But it's not awkward, Buck doesn't feel like Tommy's watching him, waiting to pry him open. It doesn't feel forced, the way it's starting to with some of the others. But it's fine. They're grieving. They all are.

Buck doesn't know how to help when it doesn't feel real. It felt real down in the lab, down in the hallway, when he had to watch Bobby. Walk away from him. Waiting for him to die.

But now, the government hasn't released his body, there aren't any funeral plans. How can he mourn when they're keeping Bobby from them? When the others are barely talking to him. At least they're accepting his food. Feeding them, that's something he can do. Something to help ease the weight on their shoulders. They'd need him, Bobby said so.

He takes a deep breath every time he leaves the house, steels himself, lets the anger and despair and emotions flooding his system fall to the background. He tries to help, he goes home, and then he goes through the motions.

Tommy carries him through it, the way he is now. Getting him out of the house, getting them both some fresh air. Before everything starts to stagnate and rot.

He doesn't know what they are, but for now, it doesn't matter. He has Tommy, and when the fog lifts, Tommy will have him. Life's to short to let him go. Life's too short to let their arguments keep them apart.

Buck takes a deep breath, and extends his hand across the table. Trying not to twitch and shake with nerves. But he has nothing to be nervous about. Tommy smiles, small and shy, before extending his own and resting his hand in Buck's. He squeezes, gently, and it grounds him. Pulls him back down.

Tommy helps.

So they sit outside, holding hands, and they breathe.

[aespicysstuff]

Blackpink reaction:

Their girlfriend calling them 'Wife'

(I didn't revised this, so ..sorry for any typos)

Jisoo: 

- You guys had headed off to some cozy coffee shop that had like a mini library there, you guys walked inside  feeling the warmth and the comfortable smell of coffee. You told her that you were going to order it so she could just look around.

- “So I would like to have a hot choco and lemon cake, my wife will have a coffee and strawberry cake.”

- Oh boy! She turned so fast to look at you that she was certain that she broke her neck, YOU CALLED HER WHAT? Her heart was hammering in her chest right now.

- Since your arms were linked you literally brought her to your table. She was still looking at you with wide eyes, but the spark was visible there.

- “What?” You asked, touching your face to see if something was on it. Jisoo couldn't help the big beautiful smile that appeared on her face alongside the blush too.

- “So...I'm your wife now?” This time she had a teasing smirk on her face and you were the one blushing, “W-well...eventually...I hope.” You manage to get out through your embarrassment.

- Jisoo's smile only became more brightly, and soon after you guys were in a comfortable conversation while enjoying you guys order.

- Jisoo couldn't deny that the idea of having you calling her WIFE officially was tempting and she couldn't wait for this day to come, she's sure you're the one.

Jennie:

- You're a famous streamer, so it came as a surprise when you guys' relationship was announced online. Well, it actually was an accident.

- You had just opened your stream and were talking with your chat, when she came inside, till this moment everything was fine because you positioned your cam in a way that wouldn't catch her face.

- Your chat knew that you had a girlfriend, but you never “revealed” because she had asked for it, so chat always respected that even though they were curious to know who she is.

- You guys have a great relationship and dynamic, they even call you mama playfully, and after discovering about your girlfriend they call her mom.

- So like a routine of 2 mothers talking with their hundreds of children, she (Jennie) walks inside your studio with a bowl of fruit salad covered in condensed milk and puts it beside your mouse, going to give a head kiss when she froze in her place.

- “Thank you my wife!” You kissed her cheek and gave her your cutest puppy smile.

- “WHAT YOU JUST CALLED ME WOMAN?!?” (I just picture her so shocked and flustered while screaming this.) She screamed while hitting your arm out of embarrassment.

- She stopped, frozen in place while looking at you like a deer caught in the headlights, she hoped your chat wouldn't recognise her voice.

- It's good to say that they did recognise her voice and her lips, that came to view after she screamed at you.

- ‘WAIT! Y/N GIRL IS JENNIE???’

‘LUCKY BITCH!’

‘ARIANA WHAT YOU DOING HERE???’

- It's also good to say that this small moment was eternalized in a clip and everyone was aware of you guys' relationship.

- You pushed Jennie to sit on your lap as there was no need to hide anymore. “Yes guys, this is my beautiful and amazing wife, I hope you guys can respect us and be happy too.” You squeezed her hand trying to comfort her.

- “Hello guys!” Jennie said shyly and hid her face in her hands right after, and that's how you guys end up playing some games and answering some questions about your relationship.

- Jennie smiled while looking at you, she knew that you guys would have to go through some stupid people, because bitch! is Jennie that we are talking about, people hate on her as a hobby, but with you next to her makes her feel more safe.

- And yes! Wedding bells are ringing in her mind already.

Rosé:

- It happened on the Oscar red carpet, you as a new rising actress in Hollywood was nominated for one of the statuette.

- You of course invited your lovely girlfriend as your plus one, and a spoiler! You guys were the talk of the moment, THE RISING ACTRESS AND THE WORLDWIDE KPOP STAR TOGETHER BABY!

- So right now here you guys were posing for the photos, you were Dressed in a simple all black suit with a corset and some jewelry, your hair was free and wild with your gorgeous curls, and Rosé was dressed in a elegant backless black dress, she black gloves on and her hair was slightly curly.

- Soon after you were being called for an interview, Rosé gave a peck and settled herself with some of you guys' staff not far from you, she was able to hear you perfectly fine, so imagine her face getting red like a tomato and her eyes widened after hearing you calling her wife.

- The guy in the interview you had asked who you had bought as your plus one and you said, “My lovely wife, Rosé, she has been by my side since day one. She was the light that I needed on some harsh nights, so I couldn't not bring her as my plus one.”

- Stop it!! You're going to make her cry, Rosé felt like her heart was about to explode with the amount of love that she has for you and this feeling keeps growing day by day.

- You had finished up the interview and headed to where she was, “It's time to get inside baby- NO! It's W I F E! Now come on, an Oscar is waiting for you, my wife.” 

- I don't even need to say that she's gonna marry you…

Lisa:

- You had been scrolling through tiktok for a long time now, you were alone and bored, Lisa was practicing with the girls and you were left alone in your guys apartment, okay, you had your children with you.

- You found an interesting video of a compilation of girls calling their boyfriend's husband and recorded their reaction, so you thought ‘Why not do this with your Lali? Besides, you were missing her so it would be a win-win situation.

- You put your shoe and coat on, made sure that everything was fine, locked the door and got inside your car, driving off  to grab some coffee and snacks for her and the girls.

- Fast forward and you were right in front of their dance room door knocking on it, seeing Jisoo opening it for you.

- “Y/n? What are you doing here?” the older woman asked you, holding the bags with their coffees and snacks. “Oh! I'm here to deliver you guys this.” You pointed to the bag, “and also because I miss my wife, aka, Lalisa.” You said walking inside the room after Jisoo made space for you to enter.

- There you saw a smiling duck, your girlfriend Lisa, she had heard your voice and yes, she heard you calling her wife, and that's why you guys almost hit the ground after she decided to jump on you out of nowhere.

- The girls only laughed and snickered at your guys cute moment and decided to sit a little bit far away from you guys to give y'all some privacy.

- Miss Manoban was giggling and kissing you everywhere, gosh she was smitten by you!

- “Can you call me wife again?” She asked you with those big doe eyes, giving you a hard time to say no.

- “Hi wife!” You with a smile on your face as she was squealing like a teenager, can't blame her, she's just so enamored by that just the thought of this happening one day gives her so many butterflies.

[daysofyellowroses]

chocolate

carmen berzatto x reader | 2.8k | 99% pure fluff nonsense | tw: pregnancy, very much implied smut, language

Being pregnant is stressful, a lot of the time. It's a natural feeling, it's not easy growing a literal human in your body.

However, you had thought that because you'd done the whole pregnancy/labor thing before, the second time around would be a breeze.

Honestly you didn't know what you were thinking, if anything the second time was even more stressful, mainly due to circumstances beyond your control.

Funnily enough, the second time was actually planned, well..in a way it was.

But to get to the second time, there has to be a first time, and that first time was..a lot. Certainly not planned. Not unwanted, but not planned. Kind of like your relationship.

You'd known Carmy for a long time, longer than you could really remember. He was just someone you knew, not necessarily a friend but not a stranger. Just someone who drifted in the same orbit as you.

It was only when he took over at the Beef that you got to know him properly. You had been working there for almost two years at that point, mainly working the counter with Richie, developing a sibling-like relationship with him. It wasn't the best job in the world, and you often felt yourself looking out the window and wondering if there was something more out there or if the grass was greener on the other side.

Then Carmy came back into your orbit, and at first it was curiosity that kept you there, wondering what he would do with the place. You didn't speak to him more or less than anyone else, but it was pretty basic chat or professional, depending.

Syd always says she saw a spark right away, and you like to believe it. You had always thought he was cute, and seeing him in his element, doing his thing..it did make him more attractive.

You weren't sure how a relationship even developed, there were always other people around, you didn't exactly flirt, and you weren't openly advertising your single status. But..things happen for a reason, right?

One night, you had to take a call after work, when you came back inside everyone but Carmy had left. You had offered to help him finish cleaning, he had insisted you didn't need to, but you could if you wanted.

Taking it as an invitation, you rolled up your sleeves and grabbed a sponge. God only knows what you had talked about, if you had talked at all, but you enjoyed his company. After that, it became common practice that you would stay after work to help clean. More and more you would sit on a counter and tell Carmy stories from your past while he cleaned, or as you later realized, pretended to keep cleaning if he finished before your story ended.

It took a while before you could get Carmy to tell you stories, he wasn't one to brag about himself or his accomplishments. Still, you managed to get the stories out of him slowly, and found yourself increasingly attracted to him. You noticed he didn't mention much about his family or friends, and you didn't push the matter.

Then, one night he mentioned Mikey in a story, then stopped himself like he'd said something wrong. You had encouraged him to keep talking, sharing some of your own memories of Mikey. He laughed when you told one story, and you desperately wanted to kiss him.

It took another two weeks before you finally plucked up the courage, figuring the worst thing that could happen was he wouldn't kiss you back, you would hand in your notice and forget the whole ordeal.

But it turned out your attraction was not one sided, as you found yourself pressed up against the fridge with Carmy's hands holding your arms up above your head as he gave you a kiss you still feel when you think about it.

After that, you tried to keep things on the down low, which lasted for approximately two days, when Richie walked in on you sitting on Carmy's desk, legs wrapped around the chef's waist as you made out like teenagers. It was a new record for gossip spreading, and despite some initial teasing everyone was happy for you both.

It wasn't the smoothest of sailing in the early weeks, or months, when the renovations started. Everyone was stressed, particularly Carmy and Syd. You understood that the weight was on their shoulders, and did what you could to be a support. If some of that support included being a taster for the chefs new dishes, that was just a bonus.

There were, of course, other ways you could relieve some of Carmy's stress. It makes you laugh now that you were trying to take away stress and pressure and gave yourselves even more, because of course you did.

It wasn't like you were going at it constantly, you were both often exhausted or crabby or fed up which didn't create the best atmosphere but when you were both in the mood..it was the best sex of your relationship, it could be in the car, against a half built wall in the restaurant, or occasionally, actually in your own bed.

You liked to think that was where your daughter was conceived, in her parents bed and not in the bathroom stall of some dingy bar (the beer was supposed to be the thing that blew off steam, but when you'd been washing your hands in the bathroom and spotted Carm in the mirror standing behind you with a slight smirk you'd pulled him into a stall and that was that)

It was inevitable really, with the stress of the restaurant making you forget to do basic shit like taking your contraception, and a partner constantly on the verge of a heart/panic attack at any moment wasn't exactly great at remembering to remind you.

So, after a couple of mornings of being unable to get out of bed from feeling so violently sick, you gave in and went to the doctor. It shouldn't have been a shock, but it was. It was something that you had thought about occasionally, had casually discussed with Carmy, but in a kind of ‘in the future, maybe’ way.

You didn't tell him right away. The restaurant was about to open, that needed to be properly celebrated. When the opening night finally came, it turned out to be exactly the right time.

Carmy getting locked in the walk-in had not been what you'd expected, but you just had to laugh at how absurd it was. When you were driving home, your head on his shoulder and his hand on your thigh, you told him. It came out before you could stop yourself, hanging in the air for a moment.

“You're serious?”

Not the response you'd expected.

“Of course I'm serious.”

“Okay.”

The rest of the ride home was in silence, one that felt suffocating.

When you woke up the next morning, it was to Carmy's hand on your stomach.

“We're gonna be parents. Like..there's gonna be a kid running around and it's going to be ours.”

“Yeah,” You'd nodded, placing your hand on his and meeting his eyes. “Pretty fucking terrifying, right?”

“Absolutely.”

He'd broken into a grin after a moment, and you felt a relief flood you.

That all seems so long ago now.

Your daughter, Gracie Natalie Berzatto, was already three, you couldn't believe it when you were picking out her birthday card. Her current obsession was Bluey, which had become a bit of an obsession for you and Carm too, it was so weirdly relaxing. Sometimes the two of you watched episodes after work, someone's head in the other's lap.

Sometimes it hit you, like standing in the supermarket with ten million different Bluey birthday cards in front of you and just trying to find one with a ‘3’ on it, that you had come so far from sitting in the car in suffocating silence.

From the moment she was born, Gracie and Carmy were inseparable. He was a natural at being a father, even if he always worried he was doing it wrong.

You always brought her to the restaurant after kindergarten when Carm had had a panic about forgetting the fruit in her lunch or not being able to plait her hair. Everyone doted on her, she would be glued to Tina’s hip while Richie made her laugh and Marcus got a special donut just for her.

You would have a coffee with Syd and watch hope Carmy could see what really mattered.

It was at, well..after Gracie’s 3rd birthday party that the whole thing would be set in motion again. The day had been amazing, much to your relief. Of course, the food was incredible, and you had cried when Marcus showed you the birthday cake, a perfect replica of Bluey in cake form. Of course, there were too many presents, but you were touched that people made such a fuss. When Jimmy had turned up with the biggest Barbie dream house you'd ever seen, you'd told him it was his fault if Gracie turned into a spoilt brat, giving him a tight hug.

When it was all over, and it was you and Carm laying on the couch surrounded by wrapping paper, crinkled paper plates and half full trash bags, you had felt a surge of love in your chest.

“We're alright at this, right?”

“Yeah, we're alright.”

You had turned to rest your head on his chest, looking up at him and knowing you couldn't imagine a better life. You didn't know what he was thinking, you never could read his mind. Whatever was in that bear cave, it caused him to smile and slowly tilt your head up for a kiss.

At first it was just a comfortable, lazy makeout session, hands slowly wandering. Then at some point it was like an unspoken question. You were taking a break from your current pill, looking into new options. There were condoms upstairs in the nightstand but neither of you went to get them.

So it wasn't a shock to discover it was round two.

Gracie seemed to understand what was happening when you explained it to her, excited that she would have her own Bingo to play with.

The pregnancy itself was relatively smooth, it had been much harder with Gracie. But then, labor with her has been weirdly smooth. Uncomfortable as hell but then they gave you the good stuff and next thing you knew there was a baby being placed in your arms.

It was the opposite with the second labor. You should have known, the pregnancy had been too smooth sailing. It was all planned, you had your due date, your hospital bag, an amazing midwife, it would be done properly.

Ah, the days when you still believed, even after having already had a baby, that labor could be perfect.

God bless delusion.

It was a week before your due date that everything went to shit.

Carmy had gone to sort out something or other for the restaurant, now that you were on maternity leave you had blocked out restaurant chat unless you were actually in the restaurant to see the staff/stuff your face. You had dropped by the Bear for a catch up, Gracie was at your mom's house and you were just having some time to yourself. It was a couple of hours before opening, a time you always enjoyed.

You were chatting to Syd and snacking on some carrot sticks she was cutting and sliding over to you when you felt a sharp pain in your stomach, brushing it off.

When it happened again, your stomach dropped as you looked down to the floor, a clear puddle pooling around your feet.

“That's..that's not hygienic,” Syd muttered, her eyes going wide as she looked back up at you. “Wait, shit, is this happening now?!”

You went to reply, letting out a groan as a contraction hit you, grabbing the side of the bench.

“Okay, we can do this,” Syd took your arm and led you into the office, helping you into the chair. “We can totally do this, we can do this.”

You took some deep breaths, gripping the arm of the chair. From outside you could hear Richie shouting something before he let out a yell.

“Fuck! I slipped in fucking piss!”

There was a burst of laughter and you gripped the chair harder, looking up and watching Syd pace back and forth, one hand on her forehead, the other on her waist.

“Richie, get in here!” You called, trying to stand up and being unable to. “Anyone, get in here, please!”

A moment later, Tina and a disgruntled Richie appeared at the door.

“Okay,” You breathed, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. “Can one of you help Syd calm down, and one of you..fuck!” You clutched your stomach, leaning forward. Tina rushed over to you, while Richie patted Syd on the back.

“Someone call Carm, please,” You muttered, taking Tina's hand. “And maybe an ambulance.”

There was a flurry of activity, and you found yourself alone in the office, wanting to cry.

“Hey, have you seen..”

You looked up as you heard Fak’s voice, wanting to cry with relief as he walked into the office with a confused look.

“Why does it smell like piss in here?”

Because life is ridiculous, it decided to conspire against you on that day. Richie couldn't get through to Carmy, the ambulance was going to be delayed because of a major collision, and your baby was starting to crown on the floor in the office in the fucking Bear.

You had managed to maneuver your way onto the floor with Fak's help, his panicked ramblings feeling oddly comforting. Syd had managed to calm down and came to hold your hand. Between her and Fak rambling about how everything was going to be fine, you wanted to believe.

Outside the office seemed to be just as chaotic, thanks to Richie leaving endless panicked voicemails for Carm, Tina yelling orders at everyone, and your broken waters just lingering on the floor.

“Okay,” Richie appeared in the doorway. “Cousin is either dead or his phone is, still no ambulance, and my suit is ruined.”

“Big picture, Richie,” Sydney gestured to you. “I don't think we have time for an ambulance..”

“How do you know? Did you..look?” Richie asked.

“Of course not,” Sydney frowned. “But..I presume. You've got a kid, you look.”

“I'm not looking, she's family,” Richie protested. “Tina, come check if the baby's coming out!”

“Oh my god,” You cried. “Will someone please just put their head between my fucking legs?”

There was a silence for a moment before laughter filled the air, yours included. It felt like everything would be okay in that moment, even when it was all going to shit.

Tina checked, and confirmed that it wasn't coming out, but it was close.

Closer than expected, it wasn't long after you were screaming and probably breaking Syd and Fak’s hands. By some stroke of luck, Carm got back to the restaurant just as your baby was coming out, which was a lot to process.

You didn't actually know who wrapped the baby in a towel and handed him to you but you didn't care, he was out.

You got the hospital eventually, everything was a blur once you had a baby in your arms. Vague memories of people coming in and out of the room, fussing over you and the baby.

The clearest memory is Carm bringing Gracie in to meet her brother. She didn't say much, just watched him with fascination. Carm asked her if the baby should be named Bingo, tickling her.

She laughed and shook her head, and you felt another surge of deep love.

When the time did come to sign the birth certificate, you put the suggestion out there, gently, to name your son after his uncle. You could tell Carm was touched but it felt too raw.

So you consulted the head of the family for her opinion, and Mackenzie Michael Berzatto it was.

“I can't believe you gave birth in the restaurant,” Carmen murmured softly, laying beside you on the bed, Gracie asleep on his chest, Mackenzie asleep on yours. “On the floor. Dirty hippy.”

“I can't believe you basically missed the birth of your first son. Call yourself Italian do you?”

“Did cousin really slip on your piss?”

“It was not piss,” You rolled your eyes with a grin, gently stroking Mackensie's head. “It was amniotic fluid.”

“Oh,” Carmen nodded. “Why..why does that sound more gross?”

“Because scientific terms are gross,” You yawned, leaning back on the pillow and looking over to Carmy. “I really love you, Carm.”

“I know,” Carmy nodded, looking over to you with a smile. “I really love you too. You've given me all this.”

“You helped, a little,” You smiled, sitting up a little and letting out a content sign when he leaned in to give you a kiss, pulling back with a smile.

“Now what?”

“Now..we don't fuck it up.”

“Yes chef.”

—

a couple of notes I had in my mind while writing this but didn't actually put into the story:

- Gracie is actually called Grace, but she will forever and always be called Gracie

- She also has everyone wrapped around her little finger

- Eva is basically her big sister

- Sugar was incredibly moved by the choice of middle name, insisted you didn't have to but loved it

- Syd and Tina are Gracie's godmothers. Tina had cried when you asked, Syd wasn't sure at first like..what does a godmother even do? But she loves it. Neither you or Carm are super religious but it just felt like a nice thing to do. Richie and Fak were chosen as godfathers. Yes, they were insufferable

- Sugar cried when you told her Mackensie's middle name, you told her it was Carm's choice, which you knew it was

- You're still working on who Mackensie's godparents should be, Richie and Fak are already fighting about being the only godfather. You and Carmy are leaning towards Marcus and Pete.

[starsfic]

Hollow Wedding

The wedding could've come from a magazine spread, it was so perfect.

Notre Dame was decorated in white, the only pops of color being red here and there and the stained glass window cast shimmering pops of color on the couple. On either side of them were the groomsmen and bridesmaids, three each, all dressed in matching outfits. It was a wedding straight out of a movie.

It was beautiful. Perfect.

Hollow.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng could practically feel the hollowness in the air. Despite what Alya claimed, that she still had deep feelings for Adrien, it wasn't that made her feel hollow. It was just too perfect. The way Adrien held his bride's hand, how he placed the ring on her finger, how they kissed. Each motion was perfectly rehearsed and bare of any real emotion.

The only thing that made it imperfect was that Alya kept glancing at her. Ever since Adrien had announced his engagement, she had pushed Marinette to do something about it. She still didn't seem to understand that Marinette no longer wanted Adrien. Since her break up with Luka, of course she would want to rebound with the guy who made her feel shame for her own emotions.

Of course.

Marinette didn't do anything and Alya finally settled with a sigh. She was almost like Chat Noir, who announced he was engaged out of the blue and kept glancing at her ever since the news, probably hoping she would react more than her congratulations.

She hoped his wedding was more real than this.

The reception carried the hollowness as well. It was all perfectly decorated and such as well, but there was nothing that could hide that feeling. And, as she sat down with Alya and Nino, she could see other guests look around, weirdly unsettled.

"Ugh, that was the creepiest ceremony I've ever sat through," Nino said in a whisper. "Like, I thought the bride was about to drop dead."

Marinette nodded. "I noticed it too." She glanced at the stage before Alya could comment any more on "her true feelings". "Aren't you gonna give a speech?"

Nino shook his head. "Nah, dudette. Gabriel made Adrien make his cousin his best man, so he's giving the speech."

"I didn't even know he had a cousin," Alya said as the cousin in question, Felix or something, started talking. "Who was the other guy?"

"I don't know, some model Adrien knows? From what I heard, the bride doesn't even know the bridesmaids, they're all related to Adrien or Emilie somehow."

"Huh? Seriously?"

Alya's eyes went wide. "Oh boy," she said. "Suddenly, I'm glad you never confessed your feelings, Mari."

"I'm glad you finally realized," she couldn't help but snark. Honestly, she would have rather died than have a wedding like this. She would've wanted to be married at the little temple her parents did, blending Chinese and French customs together and even having her parents make her wedding cake. With how Gabriel and Emilie this all felt, she wouldn't be surprised if Adrien's wedding had always been planned to be a wedding do-over. She pushed that thought aside to focus on the issue. "But, the bride didn't know any of them?"

Nino nodded. "Yeah. I asked if...uh..." He paused, trying to think. "I can't remember her name- Akane? I think that's her name, I asked if something had happened so they had to step in, but Adrien kinda just said that she didn't have any friends."

"She could've," Alya snarked, "If she actually bothered to show up to the hang-outs like you invited her to."

The wedding reception, thankfully, grew more lively after dinner was served after that comment. Marinette couldn't help but dance with Alya as Nino DJed, his music providing a spark of life to the hollowness of everything.

Soon, however, she had to pull away. "Getting some air!" she called so Alya could hear, receiving a nod. Marinette walked away from the huddle, stepping out of the reception entirely. The reception had been held in Chloe's hotel with doors leading to the roof.

And, up on the roof, was the bride.

Marinette, the moment she saw the white gown, was tempted to just turn and head back inside. But something in her paused, made her just look at the woman who married her lycee crush.

She was startlingly pretty, with short dark hair and eyes, even with the frostiness that always seemed to follow her, that had a hint of sweetness. The dress looked lovely, but it seemed washed out against her. If Marinette had designed the wedding dress, she would've chosen a more bold color, like red.

And then she realized that the bride was staring at her.

"Uh, hi, sorry-" Marinette said, stepping back. "I didn't know anyone was up here, I can just-"

"It's fine." Short and to the point.

Marinette nodded, walking up to stand next to the bride. They stood in silence together, just watching the city. No akumas had come today, despite her fears of Adrien's fan club reacting badly to him getting married. (Chloe's akuma in reaction to the news was enough.) It was another perfect moment for the movie that was this wedding.

"Akane, right?"

"Kagami, actually." The moment the correction hit her ears, Marinette wanted to shrivel up. Fuck, hadn't that been the name on the invite? She was so dumb! "Although that might as well be my name for how much Adrien cares about me."

"Huh?"

"It's Marinette, correct?" Kagami said, no explanation for her statement.

"Uh, yeah." Marinette cleared her throat. "I'm glad I could finally meet you. We tried to schedule stuff, but-"

"But you guys had to cancel. I understand."

Huh. Wait. What? "What, no? Adrien and you cancelled. He kept texting Nino that his dad suddenly changed his mind or you guys had a really important event."

"No. We would leave to meet with you and then he would get a text saying that stuff had to be cancelled so I always went home." She expected anger or maybe relief. Instead, Kagami's face seemed to crumple. "I bet he was with her," she said. A tear rolled down her cheek and she reached up, looking startled.

With the whiplash of Adrien supposedly lying to Kagami and maybe, possibly, lying to Nino and them, Marinette could only ask "Who?"

"The girl he's in love with," Kagami admitted, voice thick with tears. More tears rolled down her cheeks and it was heartbreaking. "You know, I should've taken it as a hint that, right after our first date, he admitted he wasn't over this girl. I pushed past it, I thought I could-" A sob welled up and Kagami let it out. Marinette couldn't help it. She wrapped her arms around her, hoping she could provide some comfort. The other woman froze, just for a second, before arms wrapped stiffly around her. "I thought I could change his mind. I thought we were so perfect together."

"Perfection isn't a thing," Marinette admitted. "No matter how hard Gabriel tries to think it is."

"I should've left him after we got engaged and he admitted that I was just a placeholder for this other girl," Kagami said, sending a hot wave of rage through Marinette. "I saw him while we were preparing. He kept checking his phone..."

I'll check my messages if you have any last-minute objections, my lady.

Marinette shook her head. No. Adrien wasn't like that. Except, as it turned out, he was. She pushed away those thoughts to focus on Kagami. A ridiculous thought came up, except in the face of all this, it probably wasn't that ridiculous. "...it's not too late to walk away." Sure, it would probably hurt Adrien to have his wife annul their marriage the day of their wedding, but what about Kagami?

"It is," Kagami sounded so calm about this, even with the tears rolling down her face. "Tsurugis don't back down from anything."

"Tsurugis should also be respected and be in relationships that respect them." It was snarky but true.

There was a moment of silence. Marinette almost pulled away from how still Kagami suddenly seemed.

Then the other woman pulled away, a cold glint freezing her face over, even as her eyes were puffy and pink. Marinette almost apologized when she spoke. "I'll meet you downstairs in ten minutes," she said.

"...Okay."

Kagami smiled and nodded before walking through the door. Marinette, left on the roof, blinked and then pulled out her phone. In an old group chat, she left one message.

PinkFlower: Get the car ready the marriage's getting annulled.

By the time she arrived at the parking lot, Alya and Nino, plus Juleka, Rose, Alix, Mylene and Ivan, were waiting at Nino's van. "What the heck did you do, girl?!" she said. "Adrien's already married one day and you become a homewrecker?"

"Not on that side," Marinette corrected. She turned her head at what sounded like a furious shriek and the music from the back-up DJ screeching to a stop. In the next minute, the doors opened, revealing Kagami.

Marinette's guess was right. She did look good in red, especially in the jumpsuit she had changed into.

"What did you do?" Marinette asked, just a little frightened and a lot swooning. Alya gaped, glancing from her to Kagami. Alix and Juleka, based on the noises, were stifling laughter.

"I did what I should've done a long time ago," Kagami said, holding out her arm. Marinette, still a little bit flustered, took it. "I told my mother about Adrien and his other lady. She's contacting our family lawyer now."

Damn. If her mother was anything like Gabriel...

"I also looked up some restaurants nearby. There's one with very good orange juice, if you would like?" She leaned in close, as if worried that someone would overhear and take offense. "The catering was not my choice."

...the food hadn't been great.

"Yeah," Marinette said as Nino opened the door to his van. "Yeah, I would like that."

Kagami's smile was beautiful, perfect, and full of life.

[anonziesssz]

Pumpkin Lattes & Autumn Glances.

✦- Authors Note: Posting a Blue Lock fic after this 🙈

✦- pairings: Yuki Tsunoda x reader.

✦- summary: Yuki Tsunoda Takes the reader to a cafe and teases them

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It's a perfect autumn afternoon, with the streets colored in warm hues of amber and crimson, with golden leaves drifting down to cover the cobblestone path outside. Yuki holds the door open for you, pink coloration on his cheeks as he gets the chill in the air, smiling softly at the corners of his mouth.

Inside, the café is comforting and inviting, the scents of cinnamon and coffee filtering through the air. There are old posters on the walls, strings of fairy lights hanging from the ceiling, and, somewhere way in the back, a soft humming of jazz music. You slide into a small table by the window-the kind where you can watch the world walk by outside-and it feels like you stepped into a warm bubble off a cold outside.

So, the pumpkin spice latte here? A masterpiece. Not too sweet, not too spicy. Perfectly balanced." Yuki says with such great authority

"Didn't know you were such a latte connoisseur."

"Hey, it's a big deal." Yuki grins, leaning in, and for a second, the two of you just look at each other, caught in that quiet, unspoken moment.

Your drinks arrive just then, in oversized, excellently crafted mugs. Yuki takes a huge sip, barely waiting for it to cool down. Immediately he scrunches up his face and pulls back from the cup.

"Ah! Hot, hot, hot-too hot. But worth it." Yuki fans his mouth, laughing at himself while you chuckle along with him.

He pulls his phone out and snaps a quick photo of you in under a second.

"Caught you. Looking cute." He says

"Hey! Warn me next time."

Yuki (texting you under the table):

tooltips But then I'd miss all the best parts, like the way you look when you laugh <3

You feel a warm flush rise to your cheeks, and you sneak a glance at him, catching his soft happy smile as he waits for your reply.

You (texting back):You know, for all your teasing, you look kinda cute with that scarf all bundled up like that.

Yuki (still texting):Oh, so you like the scarf look? Noted for all future dates. ????

You laugh, and your smiles melt into your cups as you take another sip of lattes. It's rich, it's warm, with just the right amount of spice to remind you of everything you love about fall.

Outside the window, the street bustles with people, but somehow, you seem to be both in a world of your own as your conversations flow as effortlessly as the falling leaves while you chat about everything and nothing.

After a while, Yuki turns towards the window, his gaze pensive.

"Personally, it's really felt like my favorite season lately." He catches your eye with a soft, upturned smile. "Kinda makes everything feel… softer, you know? Like the world's giving us a little break."

"Yeah… And it's cozy. Like, we could sit here for hours and just watch the world go by."

Yuki just texts back, his fingers flying across the screen:

We really could. Just me and you. Bottomless lattes. We could act like no one else exists.

You read his message, the warmth settling further in your chest. And you text him back.

You:

Deal. But only if you promise to keep ordering lattes, and pretending they're not too hot for you.

He chuckles, peering over the rim of his cup with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Deal. And every time I burn my mouth, you owe me one more date. Think you can handle that?"

"Oh, easily. I'll bring aloe vera for you next time." You answer

"You're thoughtful, aren't you? But I wouldn't mind a kiss as a cure either."

You both laugh, but his words hang between you, filling the silence with a little spark of something more.

Yuki lifts his phone again-this time, holding it up for a selfie. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, and you both smile as the camera clicks. He looks down at the photo, nodding approvingly.

"Great, this is going to my wallpaper. Can't believe I finally found someone who tolerates my love for pumpkin lattes."

"Hey, someone has to keep you humble." You chuckle

You both keep sipping your drinks, sending each other silly comments via text despite sitting only a few inches apart. Every now and then, Yuki bumps his knee against yours or leans over to steal a bite of your pastry, his face lighting up at every tiny, simple joy of the afternoon.

The café around you feels like it bathes you in a golden glow; with Yuki there, it feels like this moment, just the two of them present, wrapped in the warmth and laughter of autumn-might be one you could remember forever.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

[girasollake]

stages of grief ✮

✮series masterlist✮

➸ CHAPTER 8 “my heart feels cold as ice, but it's anybody's guess”

NOVEMBER 12TH 2021

You studied the gold letters on the invitation, head tilting up to see your father's eyes.

"A gala?" You asked confused.

"It's for a good cause." Your mom piped up from the couch. "Raising funds for the childrens’ hospital wing."

"As if he doesn't have the money already, he could pay for that renovation and his bank account wouldn't lose a digit." You sneered under your breath.

"Come on, let's think of this as a family trip, yeah?" Your dad smiled. "It's been a while since we did something together."

You bit your lip and let out a deep sigh, "Fine."

The next day you stood in front of the mirror, smoothing out wrinkles in your long, black, satin dress. It was a tight fit, with wide straps and a corset-like top, it hugged your curves perfectly. You put on some long sheer gloves and adjusted the necklace from Jay. Remembering how much he hated these events, you lifted the corner of your lips. Stepping into the building was far too overwhelming, definitely not what you had expected. You could feel eyes on you, so many different heartbeats beating all around, you wanted to shut them out from your senses but the stress made it unable to do so. You followed behind your parents like a lost puppy, playing with the fabric covered fingers. In the main hall, you spotted Bruce as well as a boy whom you had never seen before.

"You're fucking kidding me." You cursed quietly, hoping it wasn't what you thought, hoping he didn’t bring another child into his sick fantasy.

"Oh! It's Mr. Wayne, let's go and greet him, yeah?" Your mom chirped and tugged at your hand. "Good evening Mr. Wayne. It's truly a pleasure to be a part of this event, everything looks amazing!"

He smiled and returned the greeting, seemingly not recognizing you, but when he finally did, you felt him stiffen. 

"Who's your friend, Mr. Wayne?" You forced a smile and nodded to the boy.

"This is Tim." He replied coldly. 

"Nice to meet you Tim." You shook hands and smiled at him. "You an intern?"

"Yeah? Kinda?" He scratched his neck and looked up at Bruce.

"Did he adopt you?" You gestured to the man.

"It's none of your business." Bruce replied as your mother whispered a scolding into your ear.

"If you'll excuse me." You curtsied out of spite and walked away, leaving your parents with the host.

After some time wandering around, you managed to find a bar, quickly downing two best drinks on the menu, as you grabbed your third one, a hand grabbed your upper arm. You turned around to meet your mother's warm eyes. 

"I want you to meet someone." 

You walked over to your father, chatting with some people you had never seen. Your mother introduced you as you joined the circle.

"And this is who I wanted you to meet." A boy your age straightened up and offered his hand for you.

"My name is Oliver, it's nice to meet you." You shook his hand and reciprocated his smile. "Do you want to take a walk?" He asked politely to which you nodded.

It was no secret your mother wanted you to move on, to find someone and fall in love, despite the aching in your soul. The boy was handsome, there was no doubt, soft brown curls falling on his forehead, a few freckles showing up on his nose, adorable dimples and a bright smile. And yet, something was missing. He wasn't him and you knew that, he didn't have this spark inside, you felt it. You sat down by an empty table, you took a huge gulp of your drink and set it down on the tablecloth.

"I heard you also go to Gotham U, right?" He piped up. 

"Yeah, I study criminology." You tapped the glass with your fingers. "And you?"

"Business." He smiled and you could have sworn you heard the pride in his voice. "Bruce Wayne is my greatest inspiration, such an amazing man, don't you think?"

Your jaw clenched and you coughed to hide the distaste, then you quickly put on a smile and nodded at the boy. 

"He sure is.. something." You pressed your lips together tightly. 

"What do you think about the gala?"

Desperate to change the topic, you pointed behind him, "Oh, look! Isn't that the mayor?"

He turned his head to look for the man, you used this distraction to down all of your drink in one go. 

"I don't see him." He frowned.

"Don't worry, he will probably give a speech later and we'll all have to listen to the nonsense."

"Why do you think it's going to be nonsense?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Never mind." You forced a smile again. "I think I'll go get another drink, you want some?"

He shook his head and you nodded, getting up from the chair. You rolled your eyes the moment you were not facing him and made your way to the bar. 

"Care for a dance later?" He asked into your ear and made you softly jump.

Of course he followed.

"Never sneak up on me like that again." You glared at him and he raised his arms in defense.

"Okayyyy.. Sorry, princess." You cringed at the nickname and quickly ordered another drink. "How many have you had?"

"Don't know. Don't care." You replied, tapping your fingers on the wooden surface.

"Geez, your mom was not kidding.." He mumbled, purely to himself.

"Excuse me?" You scoffed. "What did she tell you?" You stared him down.

"That you're a tough nut to crack and you have some boy trauma." He replied and got closer. "But don't worry, I may have a way of making you forget all the bad stuff." He winked and placed his hand on your waist. 

The bartender placed the drink in front of you in the exact same moment and you didn't hesitate to throw it all over his face and suit. 

"Fuck you." You replied and quickly walked away, disappearing in the crowd.

You sneaked out through the staff door and made your way outside. Cold air hit your cheeks and you felt calmness spreading through your body. The anger was slowly dissipating from you and a bitter laugh left your throat. You didn't want to go back inside, you rested your back on the bricked wall and shivered at the feeling, it rooted you in the present. When the tips of your fingers were starting to get numb, you took a few final breaths and headed inside slowly. You could hear the soft jazz music coming from the ballroom, people laughing and chatting away. While you were still in the corridor, the mayor has been brought up on stage and started his speech. You arrived at the door and watched through the window situated on the top half of them. Everything seemed normal, you spotted your parents on the right side of the stage. Quickly opening the door, you blended in with the crowd and made your way to them. 

“Oh, honey! Where did you lose Oliver?” Your mom asked quietly when she noticed your presence. 

You shrugged in response, your mother took a steadying breath, put on a fake smile and turned around to face the stage again. You noticed one of the guards behind the mayor was acting particularly strange, even from this distance you felt his heart rate picking up, sweat forming on his forehead, adrenaline pumping and.. something else, something you couldn't place, a foreign type of substance in his blood. Some kind of drug, probably. You were too busy analyzing him to pinpoint the exact moment where he surged forward and pressed a knife to the mayors throat. The whole room panicked, the other two guards were aiming their guns at the man, but he was covering his own body with the mayors, there was no chance of a clean shot. The man started screaming, laughing horribly, as if reminding you of the Joker. You felt sick to your stomach, the rage once again bubbled at the tips of your fingers. You snapped them and the man’s body went limp. You broke his neck.

[magicalprofessorsludgedeputy]

Super-style part six

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part seven

A maelstron of sparks crackled around him as he paced the sidewalk, sporadically checking his phone as the bolts grew more violent with every passing minute.

Where were they? The show was about to start and there wasn't a single sign of them.

If they decided to skip bulkhead atleast would have texted him, but he hadn't gotten a word from anyone in hours. There was no chatter on the hero line or word of activity in the vigilante group chats, no explanation for the radio silence at all.

It didn't make sense they wouldn't just forget about him.

Unless... What if they'd been captured?

It wouldn't be the first time someone tried it. Ratchet had designed sensors to go off if any of them went uncouncious for that very reason but they were far from full proof. They were easy enough to disable with the right knowledge or power.

"if I didn't know any better I'd say you were a cat instead of a bee mein kleiner kafer."

Blitzing- no ed, or bumper when random was in control, called playfully.Ben turned to stare at the group sparks settling slightly.

They were dressed nice, in an old fashioned mobster esc way. Dress shirts and pants with various ties and vests all silk or satin in their signature colors. Strangely enough they all sported some style of stripes here and there. It didn't take a genius to figure out what they were doing here.

The only question was why.

"What are you doing here?" He asked bluntly.

"I didn't invite you and I told you about it in passing."

"Maybe, but you said it was important so I figured the group could use some culture." Corey answered smoothly, a casual smile on his handsome face.

"Tickets are 150 dollars a piece."Ben informed.

"Pocket change in our line of work my dear."

Corey dismissed.

"I mentioned this to you like twice."Ben argued

"And you said it was important so I put it on the calendar."

Corey rebutted.

"You don't even like fashion."

Ben pressed insistently to no avail.

"But we like you, So here we are. Now, tell me, where's your team?"

Ben didn't know what to say, only able to stare at the group in complete bafflement until he finally managed to choke out a "follow me." And numbly lead them inside.

He could find why they really came later on, for now he had a show to attend.

"Here's to one hell of a show and a year of labor brought to fruition." Starscream crowed as they toasted and drank.

"And the absence of annoying heroes." Lugnut added.

"Hey I'm right here." Bumblebee protested playfully.

"I said annoying heroes. Your not annoying." The cyclops explained as is if it were simple fact making bee blush a bit.

"Technically speaking your a vigilante not a hero." Starscream commented, earning a half hearted glare.

"Just cause I'm not registered doesn't mean I'm not a hero, I do the same work as the rest of em don't i." He argued only partially serious. Star had a habit of both complimenting and insulting him at once and Ben had long learned to roll with it.

"Of course not, it just means your more like us then them and significantly better company as a result." Star teased.

"Now now let's not let semantics distract us from what tonight's about. This is about bens civilian life after all." Megatron cut in, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder that filled his chest with disgusting flutters.

"Actually, for once I agree with starscream." Ed spoke up cooly.

"Wait what?"

"Like he said, your like us. It doesn't a genius to figure out the connecting thread between us. So that prompts a question, what if instead of simply like us you were one of us."

For a few agonizingly long seconds the question hung in the air until Corey's voice cut through the tension.

"Well I think it's safe to say he'd do better then starscream atleast." He joked pulling a startled cackle from Ben.

"Hey!" The T.I.C shrieked as the rest of the group laughed.

"Agreed." Shockwave chuckled.

"All we need is a proper uniform and he can replace him." The cyclops mused.

"Ooh sounds like fun, what kind of uniform do you think would work for him? Honestly I think he could use a cape, ooh it can be shaped like bee wings!" Bumper agreed eagerly.

"Ooh I like that I could lean into the bug thing a bit more with clawed gloves and boots and ooh they could be steal tipped like shockwaves so I could channel electricity through them." Ben chipped in excitedly the mention of a potential villain costume swiftly kicking his brain into action.

"Ooh and maybe like antenna that work like shockwaves antlers or maybe help you tune into electric signals?" Bumper added.

"That would be incredibly useful given your habit of drawing energy from electronics around you." Shockwave hummed.

"Ooh and maybe i can have like a crown esc thing like starscream used to have to give it a queen bee sorta vibe you know?"

At the word crown starscream eagerly but in.

"Well I know quite a bit about royal styles so if your going with a queenly look a recommend lots of gold accents to really sell the look."

"Oh yeah especially since it's a great conductor of electricity it could help." Bee agreed.

"Ooh ooh and how about like a fur trim but with that metal thread stuff?"

"Yes that's brilliant!"

A warm buzzy feeling filled Ben's chest as he talked. It made him feel oddly light, almost like a weight he didn't know he was carrying had dissapeared. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so... unwound.

It was nice, strange, but nice.

[swan-of-sunrise]

Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness (The Scarlet Witch Saga, Part II)

Summary: While (Y/N) grapples with the unpleasant symptoms that accompanied her pregnancy’s first trimester, Stephen Strange pays her a visit and delivers her some devastating news regarding Wanda.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Yeah, this one's a sad one, ya'll (but I tried lightening it up with baby shenanigans and the inclusion of one of the MCU's best songs so it wouldn't be so angsty for you!) Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoy!

Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness Part II of The Scarlet Witch Saga December 2024 Brooklyn College, Brooklyn (Superhero Snapshots Masterlist)

While (Y/N) focused on her breathing and silently willed her sudden nausea spell away, she cursed every single person who’d assured her that a second pregnancy would be a cakewalk compared to her first and cursed herself for naively believing them; she never experienced severe nausea while pregnant with Carina and thanks to Professor Liu’s burnt bag of popcorn in his office down the hall, she discovered just how sensitive her sense of smell was becoming. You are not going to throw up at work, she sternly told herself, one hand clutching the edge of her wastebasket and the other wafting the aromas emanating from her cinnamon-scented candle towards her nose. All she had to do was make it through one more lecture, and then she’d be on her way home to her loving family and her blessedly private bathroom.

There was a short knock on her closed office door and with a muttered curse, (Y/N) set the wastebasket down and wheeled her chair closer to her computer monitor before plastering a fake smile on her face and calling out, “Come in!” The door opened but instead of revealing one of her students or coworkers, it was Stephen Strange standing awkwardly in her office doorway. “Sorry, Doc, but you’ve missed the deadline to enroll in my course.”

Stephen chuckled a little at that, stepping into her office and closing the door behind him as he jokingly replied, “Dammit, there goes my dream of graduating early. How’re you doing, (Y/N)?”

“Better than I was last Saturday, that’s for sure.” (Y/N) stretched a leg out and nudged her rolling stool towards the doctor with the toe of her Converse sneaker. “How was the rest of the wedding reception?”

On the Saturday before Thanksgiving, (Y/N) and Stephen had attended the wedding of Doctor Christine Palmer, one of Stephen’s colleagues from his neurosurgeon days and an old flame; the doctor asked her to be his plus-one three days before the ceremony, and it didn’t take a genius to see that there were underlying reasons for extending a last-minute invitation to her. She would’ve agreed based on sympathy alone but after a quick conversation with Steve, she realized that the wedding and the reception would be good practice for her scheduled book tour in January; not only did her PTSD make it a challenge to be around large groups of people at once, but her ongoing first-trimester nausea was something she was desperate to be rid of. Unfortunately, her little gumball disagreed and after she vomited up her breakfast in the reception hall’s bathroom, Stephen conjured up a sparking orange portal into hers and Steve’s living room and wished her a speedy recovery before sending her home. I hope that things weren’t too awkward with Christine after I left, she thought with an inward wince as Stephen sighed to himself and took a seat.

“Not bad. I had a few martinis, chatted with my ex-girlfriend about why she and I never would’ve worked out, fought a giant octopus-eyeball creature in the middle of Greenwich Village…” (Y/N) blinked in surprise at the doctor’s casual admittance and Stephen arched a brow. “I take it you didn’t hear about that on the news?”

“Between the constant nausea, the final I’m only halfway done writing and my upcoming book tour, I’m surprised that I even know what day it is.” She self-deprecatingly rolled her eyes and leaned back in her desk chair, folding her hands over the small baby bump hidden beneath her thick Brooklyn College sweatshirt. “So, what can this part-time history professor do for a Master of the Mystic Arts?”

An uncomfortable-looking Stephen shifted in his seat and (Y/N)’s stomach twisted in apprehension at his uncharacteristically serious behavior. “Unfortunately, there’s no real easy way to kick off this conversation. Do you know about what happened in Westview last year?”

(Y/N) pursed her lips and stiffly nodded. “Wanda inadvertently created a new Vision and a set of twin children with magic and held an entire New Jersey town hostage with her mind, which she was only able to do because she’s apparently a very powerful witch.” Stephen looked taken aback by her succinct recollection, and she was quick to elaborate. “Captain Rambeau – she’s a high-level S.W.O.R.D. agent who was assigned to investigate the Westview Anomaly – came to our house on Fury’s orders to debrief me a few days after Wanda collapsed the hex and went on the run.” A familiar pang of guilt filled her chest at the mention of her friend’s mental breakdown; although Steve and her therapist tried to reassure her that she wasn’t responsible for Wanda’s actions, (Y/N) believed that there was more she could’ve done to help the grief-stricken younger woman. Swallowing the lump in her throat, (Y/N) forced herself to smile as she reached for her mug of tea. “And in case you were wondering, no, I haven’t seen or heard from Wanda since our visit to S.W.O.R.D.’s headquarters last year.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” Stephen remarked before taking a deep breath. “Look, (Y/N), I’ve got something important to tell you. Wong said I shouldn’t because it’ll only disrupt the peaceful life you’ve built for your family, but I figured that you had the right to know the truth…”

And with that, Stephen launched into a detailed explanation of the turbulent journey he’d unwittingly embarked on after battling the octopus-eyeball creature in Greenwich Village. The doctor discovered that the creature had not only been sent to abduct a multiverse-jumping teenager named America Chavez, but it did so on the orders of Wanda Maximoff; while under the influence of a dark magic-infused spell book, she set out to steal America’s power in order to travel to a universe where she could be reunited with her children, coldly indifferent to the fact that the process of stealing the innocent teenager’s power would ultimately kill her. Wanda – or the Scarlet Witch, as Stephen referred to her – slaughtered dozens of sorcerers when she attacked Kamar-Taj, and she turned to the darkest of magic to stalk Stephen and America through the multiverse. It was only after a confrontation with the other universe’s Wanda, Billy and Tommy that their Wanda realized how corrupted by evil she’d become and in a moment of selfless heroism, she sacrificed herself to destroy the final copy of the Darkhold, ensuring that no one would ever again be tempted by its dark magic ever again.

(Y/N) sat in silence for several long moments after Stephen finished his story, her nausea long-forgotten and her eyes brimming with tears of remorse; the doctor had kindly spared her the gory details of her friend’s multiverse-spanning brutality and she could sense that he was restraining himself from voicing his low opinion of the Scarlet Witch as he talked, but his thoughtful approach did nothing to alleviate the crushing guilt she was collapsing under. “Is America okay?”

“Um, yeah…yeah, she is. She’s studying at Kamar-Taj with Wong, actually, trying to learn how to better control her powers. It’s not the home she’s been searching the multiverse for, but she seems to be happy there with the other students.”

(Y/N) wiped away her wayward tears and offered Stephen an overly-cheerful smile. “That’s good. I’ve, um…I’ve got a lecture in fifteen, so I’m afraid I’ll have to cut this short.” She leapt to her feet and busied herself with packing her laptop and lecture notes into her rolling tote bag. “It was really nice to see you again, Stephen-”

“(Y/N)-”

“And I’ll be sure to send a Christmas card to the Sanctum Sanctorum-”

“(Y/N).” One of Stephen’s scarred hands came to rest on her shoulder and she immediately went silent, her tear-filled eyes diligently trained on the shabby carpet. “I’m…I’m really sorry for your loss. Are you gonna be okay?”

(Y/N) let out a humorless chuckle and met the doctor’s concerned gaze with a saddened smile. “Don’t worry about me, Stephen; over the years, I’ve grown used to losing the people that I care about. I do appreciate you coming here and telling me yourself, and…well, I’m sure that this wasn’t easy for you.”

The corner of Stephen’s mouth curved into a ghost of his trademark smirk. “I owed you one, Professor. I should be getting back to the Sanctum, so I guess I’ll see you around sometime; if you or Rogers need anything, anything at all, then you know where to find me.”

“Of course,” (Y/N) replied as Stephen summoned one of his trademark sparking orange portals. “See you around, Stephen.”

The doctor gave her one last smile before stepping through the portal and closing it behind him; the moment the orange sparks vanished, she collapsed into her desk chair and sobbed into her hands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After struggling through her final lecture of the day and picking up some groceries at the store, (Y/N) pulled into the driveway of hers and Steve’s home and switched off the engine, stepping out of her yellow Volkswagen Bug and wrangling her bags into her arms before trudging up the steps to the front door. To her surprise, the front door swung open when she reached the top of the steps to reveal a solemn Bucky and Indy, their senior German Shepard. “Hey, Bucky. I take it that our favorite wizard stopped by to see Steve after dropping in on my office hours?”

“Yep,” The super-soldier tersely replied, taking her grocery bags from her and allowing her to step into the foyer before locking the door behind them; (Y/N) murmured a greeting to Indy and carefully bent down to give the dog his eagerly-anticipated ear scratches, allowing him to nuzzle against her chest before turning and trotting back into the living room. “Steve called me after he left and asked if I could come over; I tried talkin’ to him but it was clear he wasn’t really in the right mindset for a ‘none of this was your fault, you self-flagellating punk’ chat, so I left him in his study and I’ve been busy watching Cari.” He waited for her to kick her Converse sneakers off before continuing, his blue-grey eyes filled with concern for his oldest friend. “If anyone can get through to him, doll, it’s you.”

They walked into the living room and (Y/N) smiled for the first time in hours when she saw Carina sitting in her playpen; the fifteen-month-old looked up from her plastic play easel and squealed in delight at the sight of (Y/N) entering the living room, immediately dropping her purple crayon and raising her arms. “Mama, Mama!”

(Y/N) chuckled as she left her rolling tote bag by the piano and reached down to lift her daughter up into her arms. “Hi, lemon drop! Are you having lots of fun with Uncle Bucky?”

“Unca Bubby helped me draw,” Carina excitedly babbled, pointing at the scribble-covered paper fastened to her play easel and toothily beaming with pride. “You, Daddy, Unca Bubby, Unca Sam!” Indy barked once from his dog bed. “And Indy!”

“Oh, it’s a masterpiece, lemon drop! You’re becoming quite the artiste, you know.” (Y/N)’s praises coupled with the loving kiss pressed into her hair caused the infant to bashfully hide her face in her mother’s sweatshirt. “Why don’t you finish your drawing with Uncle Bucky while I go and find Daddy, and then we can start making dinner?”

Carina nodded. “Okay, Mama.” The infant kissed her cheek before twisting around and making impatient grabby-hands at Bucky. “Unca Bubby, Unca Bubby!”

“Okay, okay, hold your horses, sugar…” Bucky grumbled, but the amused smirk on his face as he took Carina into his arms contrasted with his grumpy tone; his eyes briefly met (Y/N)’s and he flashed her a sympathetic smile before turning and carefully stepping into the infant’s spacious playpen. “All right, Cari, who do you wanna finish drawing first?”

“Unca Sam!”

“…You sure about that, little lady?”

“Yeah, Unca Sam!”

Chuckling to herself, (Y/N) left her cheerful daughter and her disgruntled friend in the living room with Indy and made her way upstairs. She hesitated for a moment after reaching the landing, one hand clutching the newel post while the other moved to rest on the swell of her small bump, her stomach twisting itself into knots at the thought of what she might encounter behind the closed door of Steve’s office. After the Maximoff twins turned against Ultron to fight alongside the Avengers and Pietro’s tragic sacrifice, Steve’s natural protectiveness of Wanda as his fellow teammate morphed into an almost brotherly affection for the Sokovian woman; the mistreatment she suffered in the wake of the Sokovia Accords was ultimately what prevented him from signing and in their years on the run, he kept a close eye on her as she attempted to maintain her relationship with Vision and helped her see him as often as they could without risking capture. He cared just as deeply for Wanda as (Y/N) had, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was blaming himself for not doing enough to keep her off a darker and ultimately fatal path.

(Y/N) took a steadying breath and released it before walking down the hallway to the closed door of Steve’s office and gently tapping on the wood. After a moment, the door opened to reveal Steve, his azure eyes bloodshot and swollen and his face etched with grief; the corner of his mouth twitched upwards into a saddened smile at the sight of her and when she practically launched herself into his embrace, his arms held her tightly against him and he buried his face in her neck. “Hi, sunshine.”

“Hi, sweetheart.” (Y/N)’s eyes prickled with a fresh wave of tears, forcing her to blink them away as she leaned back to cup her husband’s face and gently wipe a wayward tear away with the pad of her thumb. “Do you want a little company for a while?”

Nodding, Steve took her hand and led her into his office, only pausing to nudge the door closed behind them. Along with his painting easel in the corner and the cluttered desk beside it, Steve’s personal workspace was a fascinatingly diverse representation of himself; there was a framed print of his old Captain America tour advertisement hung beside a Raiders of the Lost Ark movie poster, classical art theory and 20th century history textbooks placed beside colorful cartoon animation guides and (Y/N)’s historical-fiction novels, and a vintage turntable sitting on top of an antique drum table beside a large bouquet of LEGO flowers. There were four framed photographs lined up on either side of his computer monitor; a black-and-white photograph of Steve alongside his mother and Bucky, a candid photograph of Steve and (Y/N) at their engagement party that Sam had taken without their knowledge, a photograph of Carina napping peacefully in (Y/N)’s arms with their new baby’s latest sonogram taped to its frame and a group photograph of the Avengers taken only weeks before the introduction of the Sokovia Accords.

(Y/N) followed Steve over to the window seat and picked up the tablet that was resting on the cushion before sitting beside him; her eyes widened when she recognized the paused video on its screen and she burst into a fit of nervous giggles. “Oh my God, you filmed this?!”

Steve gave her a lopsided grin and made himself comfortable, one foot resting on the hardwood floor and the other stretched out across the cushion. “’Course I did. It’s not every day a fella gets to see a historical-fiction novelist and two Avengers win a karaoke contest at Snapper’s.”

While her face warmed in embarrassment, (Y/N) scooted closer and rested her back against her husband’s chest as he wrapped an arm around her midsection and pressed the video’s play button. The dimly-lit dive-bar was packed with patrons, who burst into applause when (Y/N), Natasha and Wanda took to the small stage and picked up three microphones, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile at the memory of that night; she’d joined Steve, Sam, Natasha, Wanda and Vision – wearing the human glamor he often adopted to avoid any unwanted attention – for drinks at one of Kingston’s many bars and in their attempt to help the younger woman let loose and enjoy herself, she and Natasha signed the three of them up for their karaoke contest. One pep-talk and a couple of shots of Jack Daniels later, and they were coaxing a blushing Wanda up onto the stage for their rendition of Lorna Wu and the Coral Shore’s “The Ballad of the Witches’ Road” while Steve, Sam and Vision cheered them on. (Y/N)’s heart warmed when the footage panned over to Sam, who was cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting words of encouragement, and Vision, who was smiling bemusedly and giving Wanda an awkward but endearing thumbs-up.

“I have learned the lesson of all that’s foul and fair. Our love was forged in fire, water, earth and air. The spell is cast, how long it lasts I cannot divine; the road is there and so I dare to risk this heart of mine…” (Y/N) sang into the microphone, her voice carrying over the raucous crowd and the song’s instrumental track to harmonize beautifully with Natasha and Wanda’s voices. “Down, down, down the road, down the Witches’ Road. Down, down, down the road, down the Witches’ Road. Down, down, down the road, down the Witches’ Road. Follow me, my friend, to glory at the end!”

Sam’s impressed whistle could be heard during the brief instrumental break. “They’re pretty damn good, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, she is,” Both Steve and Vision dreamily replied, and Sam teasingly scoffed at their apparent astonishment.

“I have known the power of midnights in the wood, I’ve danced inside the circle of all that’s bad and good. The dangers great, the trials wait for those who seek the prize. Tame your fears, a door appears to love that never dies!” The trio of women, encouraged by the bar’s positive reception and no doubt the several whiskey shots they’d thrown back, began to loosen up and truly enjoy themselves; Wanda shed her sweater, Natasha played it up for the crowd with sultry smirks and winks and (Y/N) incorporated dramatic arm movements and twirls as they launched into the second chorus. “As we go down, down, down the road, down the Witches’ Road. Down, down, down the road, down the Witches’ Road. Down, down, down the road, down the Witches’ Road. Blood and tears and bone, together and alone!”

In the present, (Y/N) watched as she and Natasha shared a conspiratorial smile before shoving Wanda to the front of the stage to sing the song’s passionate bridge; the younger woman looked hesitant at first, but the hesitancy shifted to confidence when she caught sight of Vision standing in the crowd. “If I can’t reach you, let my song teach you all you need to keep our live alive. If I can’t hold you, remember what I told you; it’s the only way we survive, we survive!” The trio melodramatically played the air guitar while the song’s guitar solo blared and when the final verse began, Wanda nudged (Y/N) into center stage for another moment in the spotlight. “The road is wild and wicked, winding out of time. Still, we face our fortune chasing the sublime. What’s lost is found, what’s fierce is bound, we’re broken and we’re burned. But take a breath and dance with death, my love cannot be turned! As we go down, down, down the road, down the Witches’ Road. Down, down, down the road, down the Witches’ Road. Down, down, down the road, down the Witches’ Road. Wherever it may bend, I’ll see you at the end! I’ll see you at the end…I’ll see you at the end…I’ll see you at the end…I’ll see you at the end!”

The conclusion of their performance was punctuated by uproarious applause, with all three women taking a bow while the bar’s patrons cheered for them; the camera then panned over to show Sam bringing his fingers up to his mouth and loudly whistling in approval and Vision clapping beside him. When the camera returned its focus to the trio onstage before ending, (Y/N) was struck by the overwhelming happiness that was radiating off of Wanda’s beaming face.

“The next day during training, Wanda thanked me for inviting her out for drinks and she told me…” Steve’s voice wavered and (Y/N) could make out his sorrowful expression in the reflection of the tablet’s glass. “She said that it was the happiest she’d felt since before her parents died.”

Setting the tablet aside, (Y/N) twisted around to face her husband and held one of his hands between her own, her eyes flicking down to watch the pads of her fingers caress his knuckles and stinging with tears as she glanced back up. “For a while there, we were the closest thing to a family Wanda had. We offered her a place to stay after the Battle of Earth, told her to come to us if she ever needed anything and even tried to legally obtain Vision’s body so that she could gain a little closure; given our family’s…unique circumstances, we did as much for her as we could.” (Y/N) sniffed and allowed Steve to pull her into his arms, her head tucked under his chin as he rubbed soothing circles over her back. “It just wasn’t enough, that’s all.”

The office filled with silence as they took solace in each other’s arms, with (Y/N) focusing on the sound of Steve’s steady heartbeat against her ear and the warmth of his arms wrapped tightly around her to ground herself. Despite what she’d so confidently told Stephen back in her office at Brooklyn College, losing a loved one never got easier and she doubted it ever would; each loss simply added to the weight she carried in her heart and the knowledge that she didn’t possess the power to protect them.

Power, she thought to herself, her eyes flying open as the seemingly innocuous word crossed her mind and she considered its implications. “When Stephen talked to you, did he tell you about Wanda’s Scarlet Witch powers?”

“A little, yeah; he said that unlike other witches, she didn’t need to use spells or incantations, she could rewrite reality any way she chose, she was able to harness and manipulate Chaos Magic. According to him, she was the single most powerful being in the entire multiverse.” Steve’s chest rumbled with a half-hearted chuckle. “A pretty big step up from launching me into buildings, huh? Stephen tried explaining more of it to me, but I’m still not sure I understand how it all works.”

(Y/N) straightened in Steve’s arms, her eyes meeting his as one of her hands rested against his chest and the other moved to cradle his tear-stained cheek, and she mustered up an encouraging smile. “We’ll just have to ask Wanda more about it when we see her again, won’t we?”

Confusion filled Steve’s azure eyes for the briefest of moments but as he studied hers, a look of understanding and perhaps even a little hope replaced the grief written across his features. “Yeah,” Steve agreed, the corner of his lips curving upwards while he moved to hold her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, we will, sunshine.” He guided her forward and their lips met in a brief but profound kiss, one that instantaneously soothed the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her in a way only Steve Rogers could; when their kiss came to an end, he drew back and smiled reverently at her as his fingers tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” (Y/N) replied, planting a kiss on the tip of his nose and beaming when it elicited a chuckle from him. “We should probably check in on Cari and Uncle Bucky, make sure they’re not getting up to any mischief downstairs.”

Steve snorted in amusement before standing and helping her up from the cushioned window seat. “Oh, I’m sure they already have but lucky for us, my homemade beef stroganoff’s famous for distracting mischief-makers from their reigns of terror.”

Laughing, (Y/N) ran her fingers through her husband’s hair as he bent down to kiss her slight bump. “C’mon, Gordon Ramsay; the sooner we fix dinner, the sooner we can break open that tiramisu I bought on the way home.”

Steve hummed in interest, threading his fingers through hers and pressing a kiss onto her cheek before leading her out of the office. As they passed by his desk, (Y/N)’s eyes lingered on the framed photograph of the Avengers; standing between Clint and Vision, Wanda practically glowed with happiness as she smiled for the camera, and (Y/N) felt her heart grow lighter. Perhaps they were being purposefully naïve, putting their faith in a power that they could never hope to understand, or perhaps they were finally buckling under the weight of all the losses they’d suffered over the years. Either way, it couldn’t be denied that Wanda’s loss felt different from T’Challa’s or Natasha’s or even Tony’s, almost as if there was a new chapter of her life that had yet to be written. Stranger things have been known to happen, she thought as they made their way downstairs and the sound of laughter emanating from the living room coaxed another smile onto her face; Wanda Maximoff had spent her entire life defying the odds and persevering in spite of them, so who were they to believe that she couldn’t do it once more?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Okay, okay, I promise that the next oneshot will be a happy one! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I've created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I'll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5 

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist 

Stumblin’ In Book VI: “Endgame” Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @fanficfandomlove @momc95 @savedbystyle @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @outoftheregular @junipermurdock @mads-weasley @username23345 @crist1216 @capswife @lilmschild @crowleysqueenofhell @mary1raven @groovy-lady @ljej95 @toostrangerkid @prettysbliss

[riddle-me-ri]

Hey if you're still doing the valentine's day prompts, may I request the 500 word fic with Arkham Jervis on a date with a preferably masc reader? Like what you think it would look like. Maybe with him getting jealous in some way also? Thank you.

a/n: sure thing! I will say I haven't written for many masculine readers, I mostly go the gender neutral route which is what I did here and I hope it works! Also I'll just be doing the date since him getting jealous is another prompt from the event itself hope that's okay lol

Content Warning: slight angst sorta if you squint? but nothing crazy

Word Count: 583

Going on a Valentine’s Day Date with Arkhamverse Mad Hatter

“Oh frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! You’ve come here to spend the day!”

You beamed at the delightful man whose eyes gleamed with elation.

“Of course, Jervis. I wouldn't miss this for anything.”

The smile on the haberdasher stretched more in delight. “Come, come I’ve got everything prepared!”

It's taken some time to get settled in the new place, considering he lost his old shop building, but your support has made the change less cumbersome, and Jervis was able to gradually adapt.

You followed Jervis towards the back of the building–

What you found was…somewhat the opposite of what you expected.

It’s fair to say you’ve participated in a number of Jervis’ tea parties..some with masked henchmen and some not…

Regardless, it was always a long party table with multiple chairs pushed in all along the perimeter…multiple table sets for each chair no matter the number of participants.

Quite accurate to the book you could say…

This setup was…quite the opposite.

There was a medium sized round table, with just two chairs on either side. Just two sets of silverware and plates on the table.

A proper table for two.

You didn't realize it until just then that…you couldn't recall a time when it was just you two.

Just you two celebrating, drinking tea, and eating sweets…chatting away about nothing and anything.

Jervis swiftly walked ahead of you as you took in the intimate setting.

He stood behind the chair and pulled it out from under the table, and made a sweeping arm gesture to invite you to have a seat.

You smiled at the invitation before promptly taking a seat on the chair, and Jervis gently pushed you in place.

You beamed warmly. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “Of course!”

Jervis promptly took his seat across from you.

You sparked some casual conversation with him as he ceremoniously fell into the rhythm of pouring your cups of tea.

As the sweet date played out, you couldn't help but feel more and more appreciative for this very moment.

You genuinely didn't want it to end.

Just you and your endearing whimsical Jervis, who seems to genuinely be enjoying himself for once.

He's rhyming occasionally but not about anything deranged. His smile isn't forced or crooked in madness.

There was no mention of plans, Arkham, and/or Batman.

The focus solely being on the two of you or whatever has been keeping you busy lately…

Everything felt right in the world for a solid several hours.

Soon enough, the moment itself is gone when a thunderous thud is heard…

There is a beat of tension as you and Jervis both became quiet to listen for the noise once more.

Another thud–no doubt the sound of a thick boot knocking a door down.

Jervis' fists clenched tightly in frustration but didn't say anything as he turned towards you in concern.

He pointed to an open door's threshold that led to a hallway.

“I'm so sorry, my dear, we must cut this short. Take the hallway to the left...there's a door–you're exit out of here.”

You tried to argue, but Jervis insisted by gently nudging you with his hands and body towards the hallway.

Soon, the door to the room you both occupied was also smashed down, and Jervis promptly pushed you into the hallway and shut the door behind you as he confronted the Bat.

You're left with no choice but to make an escape…

Well, at least the moment was sweet while it lasted.

[lilacura]

Her Protection | Ahn Yujin

pairing: ahn yujin x reader

>wc: 831

sypnosis: When a close call leaves Yujin realizing how deeply she cares for Y/N, will she acknowledge the spark between them? Or continue shutting out her own heart in favor of duty?

Y/N sighed as she looked at her outfit in the mirror, a short black dress that she had been looking forward to wearing to Krystal's party all week. But now it seemed her plans were ruined by her overprotective parents insisting she hire a bodyguard after the attempted kidnapping a couple months back.

Y/N huffed in frustration as Yujin shook her head again at the party invitation. "Come on Yujin, it's just one little gathering! You've been my bodyguard for 3 months now, don't you trust that I'll be safe?"

Yujin frowned. "It's not about trust Y/N, I'm being paid to keep you out of danger. And a big social event with strangers is risky, can't you understand that?"

"You're no fun! All you do is tag along behind me like a shadow, I want to have a normal life!" Y/N yelled.

Anger flashed in Yujin's eyes. "Excuse me for taking my job seriously! Do you have any idea how badly I would fail if something happened to you? Just this once can't you cooperate and stay home?"

They glared at each other, tense silence filling the air. Y/N knew Yujin cared deeply even if she didn't express it well. And she truly did feel safer with the guard nearby.

Deflating, Y/N said quietly, "Look, I appreciate your efforts. But being cooped up all the time is difficult, can't you please come with me and we'll both keep an eye out? I'll feel better having you there anyway."

Yujin hesitated, touched by the uncharacteristic pleading. Sighing, she nodded. "Alright fine. But at any sign of trouble…"

Y/N beamed, hugging Yujin impulsively. "I know, we leave. Thank you Yujin!" Her grin was infectious, softening Yujin's stern features into a smile. Maybe this party wouldn't be so bad after all, as long as she looked out for any danger.

When they arrived at the party, Y/N's friend Krystal greeted them happily. Y/N began chatting with her old friend, catching up on the latest gossip.

Yujin scanned the crowded room cautiously, always on high alert. That's when she noticed him—a tall guy with bleached hair leaning against the wall, eyeing Y/N hungrily as she laughed with Krystal. Something about him set Yujin on edge.

She watched him weave through the partygoers until he was right behind Y/N, speaking low in her ear. Y/N turned with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, trying to politely excuse herself. But Bleach Boy reached out to trail his fingers along Y/N's bare arm, making her shiver uncomfortably.

Yujin was there in an instant, placing herself firmly between Y/N and the intruder. "I think she said she's not interested," she growled, noticing the glint of a silver ring pierced through his eyebrow.

Bleach Boy smirked, sizing Yujin up with his gaze in a way that made her fists clench. "Problem, tough guy? We were just chatting." His breath reeked of alcohol and cigarettes as he leaned in closer, clearly not taking the hint.

That's when Yujin lashed out, kicking him hard where it hurts before fixing him with a cold glare. "Back. Off. Now." Bleach Boy doubled over with a whimper, proving he was all bark. Satisfied, Yujin turned back to Y/N protectively. "Are you alright? Let's go find some better company, shall we?"

The rest of the party passed without incident, though Yujin didn't leave Y/N's side except to refill their drinks. As the crowd started to thin out Y/N turned to Yujin. "Walk me home?"

The walk home was quiet but comfortable, Yujin hyper aware of Y/N walking so close beside her. When they reached the door to Y/N's apartment, Y/N turned to Yujin with a shy smile.

"Thank you for coming tonight, and for protecting me from that creep. I really appreciate you looking out for me." Her eyes were soft and sincere.

Yujin felt her heart swell, wanting to comfort Y/N. "Of course, it's my job to keep you safe. And I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

Y/N searched Yujin's gaze, seeming to find what she was looking for. Before Yujin could process what was happening, soft lips pressed gently against hers.

Yujin stiffened in surprise, eyes flying open wide. But then Y/N made a small distressed noise and started to pull away, mistaking Yujin's reaction.

Seeing Y/N's hurt expression melted Yujin's reservations, and she wrapped her arms around Y/N's waist tenderly. She leaned down to kiss Y/N back slowly, pouring all her feelings into it—her desire to protect, her fondness, her growing love.

Y/N sighed into the kiss, hugging Yujin close. They broke apart with shy smiles, a new understanding blossoming between them under the moonlight. "I've got you," Yujin whispered, and Y/N knew everything would be okay as long as they had each other.

a/n: hi everyone lol

[irkimatsu]

Ok, I read about Husk when I found the Reader sketchbook and I thought it was really cute... Now I imagine it the other way around...

Reader watching Husk's drawings and how he sees her, I personally have the headcanon that Husk knows how to draw, hehe

Oh, I love this idea! Husk is definitely a creative type, so why wouldn't he be able to draw?

Not that anyone at the Hotel knows it at first; he stopped putting effort into his creative pursuits a long time ago. Whenever a Hotel bonding activity requires him to draw, all you'll get out of him are sloppy, sarcastic stick figures. He refuses to try any harder than that.

But slowly, he's been getting that creative spark back. It's thanks to the friends he's made in the Hotel... it's thanks to you. He's finding joy in his afterlife again. His passion is coming back.

...not that anyone needs to know that. He still expresses himself in private, with the only clue the Hotel gets to his trying again being the occasional flat note from a saxophone and a frustrated "FUCK!" from his bedroom. Definitely no clues that he also draws while he's in there.

Husk is a lot more careful with his sketchbook than Reader is in the other scenario; it never leaves his bedroom, so there's no way he'll leave it in the lobby or anything like that. But as the two of you get closer, he starts inviting you to spend time in his room. As friends, he swears! He has no bad intentions! He just wants to chat, listen to music, teach you how to play cards... you're just friends, that's all this is. He gets more comfortable with your presence in his space. Less careful. So much less careful that he forgets to close his sketchbook and put it away before inviting you in.

You weren't trying to snoop! But how can you ignore the book sitting right there on his bedside table? Especially when all the sketches on the visible pages look like you... the drawings are clumsy, obviously drawn by someone who hasn't drawn in a long time (and still needs to learn how to hold a pencil in a set of paws twice the size of his living hands), but there's still knowledge and passion in those sketches. Sketches that match you so closely, even including flaws you'd normally ask anyone to leave out of drawings of you...

Husk immediately leaps over to grab the book and slam it shut.

"Sorry!" you say. "I wasn't trying to pry! I was just-"

"It's nothin'," he says, cutting you off, as he shoves it in a drawer and slams the draw shut hard enough to make everything else on the table rattle. "Just, uh... it's nothin'. C'mon. You said you wanted to play cards?"

You don't mention the sketchbook again, but you can't stop thinking about it...

[nevermoreternity]

Hello ! How do you do ?

May I ask for an headcanon for Andrew Kreiss with a reader that is very head in the cloud and has verh creative ideas ? Like, they enjoy writing poetry, they get lost when they speak about topics they love and they constantly stumble because theh can't help looking at the sky

I thought it might be cute !

Thank you !

"That does indeed sound cute."

𝗪𝗛𝗬.

You were an individual rather devoid of thoughts.

Or perhaps, the right term would be that you were too deep into your own mind.

Or, is it that you're just... that simple-minded.

The gravekeeper had pondered over these theories for a while ever since he met you. An airhead, is what he would refer to you by.

He could count the amount of times you'd space out during a conversation, whether with him or someone else. The way you slowed your words until eventually falling quiet, eyes fixated on a certain area before your focus snaps back to the present. At first, Andrew thought you were a bit rude, especially when you were the one who came up to him first before giving him such a blank stare. Twinges of concern and suspicion flickered in his expression when you chatted about your interests before trailing off and staring distantly at the sky. Andrew couldn't understand what could have gathered your attention at that point, unable to spot anything apart from the spots of clouds.

“What's so interesting about the sky?”

Andrew noticed it was a pattern for you to stare at the vast sea of blue and white. Whether he found you like that already, or if you trailed off as usual to think, your eyes would always end up sliding up to gaze at the sky. So, when he felt confident enough to do so, he asked you about it. About what gravitated you to look up in pondering quiet, letting silence mix in with the wind. In a vague corner of his mind, another concern popped up about the sun burning your eyes with how long you would space out at times.

When you finally turned to him, or whether you just kept your eyes serenely trained up above, he wouldn't inquire any further. Regardless of your answer, Andrew drops the topic. Unable to get a fulfilling answer, he instead tilts his own head upward. The sky was simply the sky in his perspective — was it the cloud shapes that intrigued you? Was it the color? He didn't understand the appeal. Or maybe the albino just lacked the abstract view you had. He wouldn't know. At the time, he doesn't think he really wants to know either.

Andrew could feel himself regretting opening the door to his room, your familiar figure now stood inside of his small abode. You were rather persistent in your own way or maybe you found yourself waltzing in, maybe he even invited you in himself. Either way, it didn't matter because here he sat on his bed watching and listening to you with reluctance. It wasn't that he felt rude, he just couldn't figure out how to keep up with you. You spoke with a certain cadence in your voice, a spark in your eyes as you rambled to him about some creative expressive piece you've been keeping in the works. A canvas painting of some sort, or a new sentence jotted down in your journal, or a new picture you took of something others would find mundane.

How could someone have so much energy yet none at the same time?

How could someone wander life in such a daze yet have such a sharp spark when speaking of their passions?

Andrew pursed his lips, unable to find a conclusion for either question.

You continued talking, but it was inconsistent. A sudden pause in your step, a stumble in your words as you tried to find the right terms to describe yourself, even a lack of a reaction from him goes unnoticed as your focus drifts from his dusty shelves to his window. His window had its curtains blocking the light, you pointed out.

Andrew didn't know how to reply to your small observations, leaving the room in awkward silence when you cut your rambling off with a questioning stare. He stared back, not knowing where else to look, and so you stared at each other, until you began to look uncomfortable. Or wait- no, you had that distant look in your eyes that signaled you were deep into your own mind once again. He calls your name out hesitantly, waiting to see your eyes regain focus back onto him, realizing you had lost yourself in mental clouds yet again. The pinch of annoyance was familiar by this point, but he kept such a thought to himself, clutching the crucifix around his neck with a sigh instead.

He rubbed the necklace between his thumb and index finger before quietly asking you to resume speaking, recalling your last sentence to pick up where you left off.

You were simply confusing,

Andrew would conclude.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

“What are you doing?”

Andrew asks with furrowed brows and a small frown. There you were being a mess of thoughts again, your response making him question your current actions. You were staring at him again much to his discomfort. Were you dense toward his obvious wary attitude around you? Or were you ignoring the weak glares being sent your way?

He didn't realize he was staring right back at you.

He'd watch you, his own eyes fixated on you before he ends up embarrassed with your focused stare pinning him down. He would always be the first to look away. Andrew had so many contemplating questions about that mind of yours. No matter how many times he got an answer a new one would pop up. It was odd, the way you would sometimes fidget with your hands, blow a strand of hair away from your face, a spacey smile ‐ or a face close enough to be considered a smile, always settled on your lips.

The fact you were doing it around him made him grow even more puzzled. Those thoughts came after his questions, with the sudden realization that you were still so persistently hanging around him.

“Are you going to... leave?” Andrew asks with his hands clasped together on top of the table you share in the commons room. He would have sat farther from you, possibly even settled for the other side of the room. But even then, he would probably find himself stealing glances in your direction without knowing why. If you attempted to shuffle closer he wouldn't stop you, only grumbling about the fact there's much more space to pick from. Why did you choose the seat next to him? Why did you have to notice all the little things at this moment? Why were you commenting on the way he stiffened up when you got too close? Weren't you too busy in your own head to pay so much attention on him?

“I'm fine.”

Whether or not you called out his bluff didn't matter because the gravekeeper got up from his seat and left shortly after, hands still clasped in front of his chest as he feels himself speed walking down the hallway and away from you. He's not sure why he's even leaving in such a hurry. He just doesn't want your prying eyes on him anymore.

Andrew frowns to himself, a conflicted feeling bubbling in his stomach as he murmurs to himself.

Andrew could say you're too in the moment at times,

and other times, you aren't in the moment at all.

He got used to it after a while, a long while. He'd notice your change in pacing before they even occurred, recognizing the long pauses you would take when you drifted off, so that he'd snap his fingers in front of your face to pull you out of your trances. Andrew found those moments shifting from irritating and confusing to something much more standard. His feelings became more indifferent, albeit now tainted with a bit of worry. You made him question your whereabouts several times, notably whenever you turned up late to a meeting with him because you got distracted somewhere along the way.

Andrew found himself staring at you for longer periods of time whenever he spotted your eyes on him. He still always ended the prolonged eye contact first though, stammering complaints about your unnerving gaze, his face giving way to faint reddening when you parted your lips to question him.

He found himself changing and he didn't know if he liked it.

But... it also may not necessarily be a bad thing.

Andrew questions you again.

This time you two were under a tree, your time spent together being a regular occurrence by now. He couldn't exactly go under the sunlight as the fear and inconvenience of being sunburnt stopped him from doing so. He preferred the shade anyway, the heat was always too much. Even then, when he refuses to move from his sheltered spot, his eyes find themselves lingering over to you.

His head tilts to the side, his back pressed against the tree. Andrew noticed you were staring out into the scenery in front of you, that same absent look in your eyes. He didn't find any need to disturb you or break you away from your thoughts, since you two weren't having any previous conversation this time to begin with.

However, when you suddenly turned your head back at him to meet his gaze he found himself breaking out of his own trance, growing abruptly flustered at your glazed over yet distinct stare. “It's nothing.” Andrew answers when you curiously pry over his strange behavior, him placing a hand over his mouth in an attempt to hide away.

He was so conflicted with himself.

Why? Why was he so conflicted in the first place?

Andrew turned his head back toward you after regaining his composure, but seeing that you were still staring made him want to turn away even faster than before. With a subconscious grumble escaping his throat he hid his head into his own arms, his knees pressed against his chest. Still, you kept your eyes trained on him. Except now, you had that certain distant fog in your eyes. Clearly spaced out again, most likely unaware that you were even staring at all. So, without thinking, already used to bringing you back to reality, Andrew moves a hand up to touch your nose, flicking the tip of it. Your reaction to the sudden action amused him silently for a few moments, until he realizes the physical touch he just initiated. Just like that, he's back to how he was seconds before, retracting his hand and letting the embarrassment of brief contact swallow him whole while you tilted your head in confusion.

There were still so many questions Andrew didn't have answers for. He didn't know if he ever would have the answers to some of them. However, he had made at least one certain conclusion after spending so much time with you. You may have endlessly confused him, but, somewhere along the way, your behavior had grown endearing rather than puzzling. Now, when he looked at you, he found that you were actually quite...

cute.

— end.