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#Really looking forward to the next prompt so this was maybe a bit too rushed
ceilingcow · 9 months
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Yeehawgust Day 10: Neon Moon Just something quick to get the idea out of my head and to keep moving in the prompts. I think saloons should have the same naming convention as Skyrim taverns.
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Prompt: “How’d we get ourselves into this?”
This is a short friends to lovers, mutual pining, confessions of love, fluff piece. Maybe a little angst too?
A/N: I never really write stories that are happening in the canon of the actual show so I had this idea of what if Eddie and his best friend (who are in love with each other) are stuck in the Upsidedown(the first time), thinking they have no time left. What would they do?
I hope y’all like it!
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You jumped as a particularly loud crash of red lightning lit up the dark sky of the Upsidedown. You couldn’t believe this place existed -that monsters existed- yet, here you were; bloody, bruised, and bitten after fighting off those damn bat things. All because you couldn’t let Eddie go alone, not again.
Eddie and you were inseparable, best friends since kindergarten. He was your first real friend, your first date to a middle school dance, your first kiss during spin the bottle, and unbeknownst to him, your first and only love. You were so in love with him it almost hurt to be around him. But it hurt so much worse to be apart. So you stayed by his side in any way he’d have you.
Your group had found some cover at this world's version of Skull Rock, trying to recover a bit as you came up with a plan of how to get out of this mess. Wanting to give Steve some privacy as Nancy patched him up, you had walked over to a fallen log that was somehow almost completely vineless and sat down, losing yourself in your thoughts as the others talked behind you.
“Hey sweetheart.” You jumped, startled, as Eddie plopped down next to you with a small smile. “Whatcha thinking about in that beautiful head of yours?” He asked, nudging his shoulder into yours lightly.
You nudged him back as you shook your head, “Just-” you sighed, “how’d we get ourselves into this Eds?” You said with a disbelieving chuckle.
“Bad luck. As usual. Sorry I dragged you into this sweetheart.” He said, disappointment lacing his words, he hated that you were now in danger because of him.
You scoffed at that as you looped your arm with his and leaned your head on his shoulder, missing the way his breath hitched in his throat, “You didn’t, you dork. I dragged myself into it. There’s no way Eddie Munson was gonna get to have all the fun without me.” You joked.
“Oh, so much fun.” He chuckled, “This is exactly how I wanted my spring break to go. Running from the cops is so much better than the theme park we were gonna go to.”
“I’m sorry this happened to you Eddie.” You said, looking up at him as he turned to look at you, “You don’t deserve this.”
“Thank you doll. I gotta say, I’m glad you’re here.” You raised your eyebrows as you looked at the forest around you and then back at him. He grinned, “Well not glad that we’re here, but that you’re here with me. I-I don’t think I could do this without you.” He said, some newfound bravery lighting up in his chest. “I need you sweetheart.”
Your heart was beating so hard in your chest you were worried it might break though your rib cage. “I need you too Eddie.” You said as you removed your head from his shoulder to look at him properly.
“I thought I was going to lose you out there, you know. I was worried we weren’t gonna make it out before I could tell you.” He started, confidence rushing through his body.
“Tell me what?” Your mouth felt dry and you knew your hands would be shaking if they weren’t gripping on to your best friend so tightly.
Eddie looked at you like you had hung his moon and stars as he brought a shaky hand up to cup your cheek, his calloused thumb rubbing gently into your soft skin, “I love you sweetheart. Always have. You’re fucking everything to me.”
You felt a spark of electricity run through your body much like the lightning striking around you as you rushed forward and crashed your lips to his in long overdue kiss. He didn’t react at first and you panicked, thinking you might have done something wrong, and tried to pull back but you were stopped by Eddie as he chased your lips and kissed you back desperately.
You broke apart, breathless, “I love you so fucking much Eds, it’s always been you.” You admitted, “I’ve loved you since we were kids.”
A big smile broke out on Eddie’s face, the largest he’s had for days as he saw the stars in your eyes. He leaned his forehead on yours and bumped your noses. “I’m yours, if you’ll have me, be mine? For however long we have left.”
“I already am, I’ve always been yours Eds.” You smiled, kissing him again as you both ignored the monstrous world around you- even if just for a moment- and melted into each other.
Taglist: @srapalestina @yvonneeeee @aroseinvelaris @anaisweird @mrslovesmayahawke @harrys-titties @becca-alexa @catacina @lma1986
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kairiscorner · 9 months
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If i may! May i req a Gwen x reader? Scenario is.. prom night/school dance -> dancing in the rain at the parking lot!
Details: pretty flipped up prom night. Minor inconveniences piled up and snowballed into a breakdown for the reader. Too bad cuz they looked all pretty and sparkly with their gown + okay-panicked make up anyway. Somehow someway Gwen could maybe cheer them up? To make it fun she could lead them to the parking lot and the rain pours lol and they just start dancing there like idiots! (go ahead and play around with the prompt‼️)
thank you so much if ever!! Hav a wonderful serotonin boost in your next fandom endeavors!! 🫶
HELLO ANON, omg thank you for this super cute idea <:DD I HOPE YOU LIKE IT 🫶🫶🫶this is such a lovely idea i can't...... 🫀🫀
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
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dancing in the rain (gwen stacy x reader)
it was fine. you were fine. tonight is just... fine.
okay, well, maybe it wasn't all too fine, maybe you did feel a little cramped in your pumps that you couldn't break into, no matter how often you wore them--the blisters on your heels were stinging, but beauty is painful, right? it just means... ugh, what does it mean? you were looking forward to this day, more than anyone could possibly fathom. having paid a good sum of money from a friend of your mom's to tailor you the perfect dress, only to have it come out as 40% of what you expected, realizing that you used up all your foundation that morning before prom and not having any left, and you rushing your makeup since your parents made you finish up chores before prom, so now you just... feel like you're average--and worst of all, the person who asked you out never got back to your messages.
you saw those dreaded three dots dance on your screen again and groaned. you didn't wait for their response anymore, why should you? they practically stood you up when they promised to save you a dance; now you were going to save them a dance, but you weren't going to wait for someone who can't even string a reply. even a lie would have been comforting for a bit, y'know? just say they'd be on their way, reassure you they'd be there, they'd take your hand and dance... but no, they had to be honest without even realizing it. and it really, really stung.
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oh, oh no... your mascara felt heavy when you teared up. your tried wiping it away, but you cussed at yourself when you realized wiping it away would make the streaks obvious. your friends couldn't really tend to you right now, the slow dance was coming on and you couldn't pull them aside to help you right now... no, that'd be selfish of you, wouldn't it be? whatever, who needs prom, right? well very clearly, you did, and kinda do, still. the tears kept coming, and you really wanted to hide right now, so of course, you sought refuge in the school bathroom to cry all the hurting away.
on your way there, you bumped into someone; wow! this night really can't get any better from here! it seriously can't! you meekly uttered an apology as you tried to head over to the bathroom, avoiding eye contact with whoever you bumped into, but then they told and asked you, "ah, it's okay. are... you okay, though?" was that gwen? "i'm..." you began, but the hot tears kept coming and your breathing became shallow--obviously, they were signs of a person who was not okay. you looked up at gwen, and even through teary eyes, she looked so beautiful, even more so in her prom outfit.
gwen smiled sadly at you and pulled out a couple of tissues from her bag. "you don't have to say anything, it's okay..." she said in a gentle voice, hoping to reassure you as you took the tissues from her hand and dabbed at your eyes. gwen sighed a little as she scanned the room for your friends. "everybody's got somebody to dance with, well, guess i'm not part of everybody." gwen said as she leaned against the wall and looked at you as you blew into the tissues. "tell me about it. my date, my... stupid date stood me up. couldn't even answer where they were or if they were even coming..." you muttered under your breath as gwen listened. "damn, sorry about that. um... i don't know if this'll make it any better, but..." she extended her hand towards you and gave you a crooked smile. "wanna come have our own prom night together, just me and you?"
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you didn't even have to think about it, you took gwen's hand as soon as she offered it and nodded. "yes, please..." you whispered as gwen chuckled and held your hand tightly as she pushed the door to the gym's exit wide open, and you two were greeted to... a light rain shower in the parking lot. gwen giggled as she took her jacket off and put it over your head to shield you from the rain. "heh, sorry... didn't realize it was drizzling." she said as you smiled up at her through mascara-streaked eyes. "it's alright, it feels slightly refreshing." you joked as gwen chuckled and took your hand as she led you out to the parking lot.
the music from the gym was echoing faintly outside, and you heard gwen through the drizzling rain sing along to the song. you chuckled yourself as you sang to it as well, forgetting the fact you were self-conscious of your voice, and soon began to shuffle a little as you kicked up the small puddles, getting your pumps dirty and your gown wet. gwen sang even louder to back your vocals up, she even started clicking her tongue to match the beat of the drums. you held your hand out to her as you shuffled, with her taking it and twirling you around. her hair was getting wet, her face was being rained on, but she still looked so pretty like this. your face was also being rained on, kinda worsening the mascara whenever you looked up at the rain clouds, but gwen didn't want you to dwell on that--she actually found you super nice like this. "hey, you're really beautiful like this!" gwen called out from in between the instrumental as she looked at you in the eyes.
you felt a little flustered as you heard her say that, and meekly thanked her again like you did when she offered you her tissues, this time, you said it with a wide smile. you two started to let loose even more, with you accidentally dropping gwen's jacket, but gwen not really minding, it was just a jacket. but tonight... she just wanted the world to be you and her, together in this parking lot as the rain poured on you two and you both sang and danced amateurishly to the song that she believed was... meant for you two. you two danced the night away in the rain, probably going to get a cold the next day, but neither of you cared; the world right now was just you two, right here, right now--and it couldn't have been any better.
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a/n: i really wanna write more gwen related fics owemji !!!!!!
tags !! @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy
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finn-m-corvex · 6 months
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Whumptober 2023 Day 9 - Shaking
Day 9, and the first day where I use a prompt substitute! I couldn't really think of anything that fit the original prompts, and I wanted to do something with hypothermia, so alas this one was born!
@splinnters you're almost to ten and at least it's over halfway!
Words: 2.2k
“Grab him!” he heard someone yell, maybe Nya. “Get him out of the water!”
Oh, was that what had happened?
Jay reflexively inhaled before coughing violently as the icy water stabbed at his lungs, his limbs weighed down like someone had tied lead to the ends. Everything was bearing down on him, the pressure only growing with every passing second. The light was growing dimmer and his vision was going dark as he tried to breathe in the water, finally recognizing the urgency of his situation and trying to fight his way back to the surface.
A frozen lake. They were still stuck in the Never-Realm, and he had been out fishing with the villagers and using his lightning when he saw the ice about to crack under a man’s feet. Without hesitating, Jay ran forward and pushed the man out of the way, feeling the ice splinter and crack and give way under his weight as he plunged into the depths of the lake. He didn’t think that any of the others had been close enough to see what happened, but he must’ve been mistaken if Nya was here.
Was she trying to help him out of the lake using her powers? Her powers hadn’t been working right since they had landed here, he didn’t want to be another thing for her to feel guilty about.
Everything was so heavy. Fighting against water and his old enemy known as gravity was even harder than he remembered. Jay fought twice as hard to make half as much of an effort as what he normally would’ve been able to give, and he desperately reached for the hand that someone had stuck under the ice. Cole’s, probably, judging from the size.
His feet were hurting and he couldn’t feel his toes after the water seeped into his boots.. His knees were locking up, making swimming much harder than it already was, and it took all of Jay’s willpower to keep his eyes open so he could try and see the top of the water. The hand was flexing and shaking, but Jay couldn’t tell you if it was because of the cold or Cole’s fear.
Hell, he was scared too.
With a final rush of adrenaline and a bit of a boost from his power, Jay grabbed the hand, barely able to make his frozen fingers clamp around it. Pain rushed down his arm when his fingers went completely numb, and Jay could see them turning blue. Cole’s other hand pulled on Jay’s wrist, and Jay only had a moment to prepare himself before he was being yanked out of the water and slamming into the ice.
Coughing up the water, Jay couldn’t see anything through the tears blurring his vision, finally making out his Yang kneeling next to his head. Nya looked distraught, hair messy from running her fingers through it and face red from exertion; she must’ve been trying to use her powers to pull him up to Cole. “Jay! Jay, talk to me, I need you to say something.”
“N-Nya?” he whispered, his teeth clacking together like someone whacking a xylophone. Working his jaw was like trying to move a boulder, and his tongue felt like it had been torn straight out of his mouth. The mental image of that made him shut his eyes from a sudden burst of nausea. “W-What happened?”
“You fell in the goddamn lake like an idiot,” Nya hissed, rushing to sweep his sopping wet bangs aside, and Jay felt more tears sting at his eyes. He didn’t mean to, and he knew that she wasn’t really mad at him, but his body wasn’t responding and everything hurt and he was freezing and his Yang was angry-
“Hey, hey,” she said softly, cupping his cheek. Jay flinched away from how warm it was even with the glove on. “I’m sorry, that was too harsh. We’re going to get you back to the village and get you some help, okay?”
“C’mon Sparky,” he heard Cole say, and he could hear the worry in his voice, “I’m gonna carry you, you ready?”
He didn’t wait for Jay to nod before lifting up his legs, Nya pressing him against Cole’s back so that Jay was riding piggyback style. The familiarity of the position made Jay’s eyes sting, his heart aching. Jay clung onto his brother’s gi with numb shaky hands, fingers a light shade of purple and bruised. Cole was so warm and he was so cold; surely he would be willing to share at least some of his body heat. He couldn’t be that greedy.
Flinching, Cole hissed as Jay pressed his face into the crook of his neck, starting to walk forward towards the village. “Shit, Jay, could you get any colder?”
“S-Sorry,” Jay stammered, his teeth chattering; he thought they might actually break. His gi was so much heavier than normal; logically, he knew that it was the water, but even just that line of thinking took up almost his entire brain capacity. He wanted to go to sleep.
“Don’t be sorry,” Cole said, “just keep hanging on, we’re almost there.”
Cole was a dirty liar, because it felt like a million years before they finally set foot back in the village, Nya’s hand warm on his back to keep him steady and Lloyd sprinting over from where he had been patching up one of the villager’s roofs. He skidded to a stop in front of Cole, immediately reaching for Jay’s hand and cupping it in a deliciously warm grip that Jay was instantly craving more of.
Lloyd’s face was pinched, and he quickly shouted for Kai. “What happened?” he demanded, moving out of the way so Cole could take Jay to the main hut. They were trotting at a brisk pace, one that had Jay’s head spinning from looking at his brother’s legs moving back and forth. Were Cole’s strides always this wide?
Nya took some new clothes from one of the villagers. “He was helping the fishermen and fell in the lake saving one of them. We need to get him warm.”
Kai opened the door to the hut with the firepit and took one look at the group, understanding immediately what had occurred and darting back inside. Jay only closed his eyes for a second, desperate for some relief before Lloyd was snapping his fingers in front of his face, not stopping until Jay forced his heavy lids open and stared at him with barely concealed annoyance. Lloyd wasn’t phased, continuing to keep an eye on him and make sure that Jay stayed awake. Nya did her own part, poking his sides and tickling the spots right under his bottom ribs (one of his worst spots) to make him giggle and squirm, and even though it was still annoying it was much preferred to Lloyd giving him a stink-eye.
The warmth of the fire washed over Jay and comforted him as soon as Cole stepped into the main hut, and Jay shivered like a dying man as he ached to get closer to the heat. Except instead of being laid down next to the heavenly amazing fire, Jay was plopped onto a stupid wooden bench, Nya and Cole both starting to strip off his armor and gi without any sort of fanfare.
“First Master,” he slurred, the feeling still not quite back in his tongue. His head was pounding like one of them was using the wooden mallets of the villagers to beat against his skull, “the least you could do is take me out to dinner first.”
“Jay,” Nya said, exasperated, “we’ve been dating for years. I don’t think I have to buy you dinner anymore.”
“T-That’s very sexist of you, and what about Cole?”
“We’ve been best friends longer than you’ve been dating, I don’t think I have to take you to dinner either.” Cole said pointedly, finally getting Jay’s boots off.
Jay only scoffed, letting Nya take his undershirt and throw it into the corner. “Chivalry really is dead. I deserve better than this.”
“Let me remind you of that the next time the others go out and we’re alone,” and Jay was suddenly beet red from the tips of his ears to the back of his neck; after all this time Nya still managed to get him all flustered? He really needed to get a grip.
He was finally half-naked, the two of them leaving him in just his blue boxers, and he smirked when he saw Nya look away with a light blush on her face. “Like what you see?”
“I’ll like it when I can’t see it even more,” she grumbled, and Jay felt a tinge of satisfiaction in knowing that he could still make her feel that way. Of coutse it was him that would be thinking about getting some action right after nearly drowning in a lake while currently on the verge of freezing to death.
There was a fake gagging sound in the background. “If you two are done being gross, then you can bring him over here now,” Kai said, and Jay saw that his brother’s top was off as well. The fire ninja laid down in a small nest of blankets that the villagers must’ve set up for them, tucking one over himself and leaving a nice and cozy spot wide open for Jay.
First Master, yes! He was saved!
Jay didn’t need to be told twice, and he would’ve moved himself if he had even the slightest control of his limbs. Lloyd noticed the longing look on the lightning ninja’s face, moving to help him down onto the ground since they were the closest in height. Lloyd winced at Jay’s freezing body temperature, but still held onto him long enough for the blue ninja to lay down inside of the blanket cocoon with Kai, who was quick to smother Jay with blankets made from various animal skins and wools. It had been so long since he had skin-to-skin contact like this with any of them, let alone Kai.
It was actually really nice. They should do this more often.
He hugged Jay close, hissing as his brother put his freezing hands directly onto his back. “Holy shit, Jay, could you get any colder?”
“Do you really want to find out?” Jay muttered, shoving his nose into the crook of Kai’s neck and nuzzling. Kai sighed, returning the hug and kissing the side of Jay’s head, activating the little firepower he had unlocked again and warming them up. The heat was contained in the blanket nest, and Jay was quickly lulled to sleep when he felt Kai’s hand start to play with his hair, Nya and Cole talking above his head and Lloyd crawling into the nest on Kai’s other side after kicking his boots off and into the corner.
“His hair is actually pretty fun to play with,” Kai commented, twirling the curls around his fingers and watching as they sprung back into place. He was sure that it wasn’t the first time he had ever said that about Jay’s hair, but it never hurt to say it twice.
Nya chuckled, reaching down to swipe the bangs out of her Yin’s face. “I know, you should tell him that more often.”
“Maybe I will,” Kai said, kissing his brother’s forehead and tangling their legs together. It had been a while since he had gotten some cuddles. “I forgot how cuddly he was. He’s like a koala.”
“That’s because I normally give him his cuddles,” Cole chuckled. “But it’s nice to let it be someone else for once.”
“Oh, don’t say that,” Nya lightly smacked his arm, “you wouldn’t be his first choice if you didn’t enjoy it too.”
“Yeah, I know. Wait, I’m his first choice?”
Lloyd cleared his throat from his spot next to Kai, pouting and hugging the fire ninja like he was a teddybear. “Why don’t I get cuddles more often?”
“Greenbean, you get tons. Kai handles you, Cole handles Jay, I swap between you both and Zane helps everybody,” Nya said jokingly, “although I’m sure Jay would be more than happy to join in your rotation. You could even have a Starfarer movie night.”
Suddenly, Jay began to squirm and whimper, and Kai looked down at his little brother in concern. He saw Jay’s face contorting in fear, swallowing thickly, and held him tighter when the blue ninja’s shivers ratcheted up a few notches. Rubbing his back seemed to help as it normally did, and Jay settled back down against him with a small sigh. Kai clawed his hand, using his nails instead of his blunt fingertips, and that drew a very satisfied noise out of his brother and a squawk from Lloyd as Jay threw his freezing leg overtop of his. Lloyd grumbled a little before reaching over Kai to lay his hand on Jay’s arm, tucking his head down between Kai’s shoulder blades and choosing to go to sleep as well.
Looking back at Lloyd, Kai shook his head with fond exasperation before turning to Jay again. “Are his nightmares always that quick to happen?” Kai asked quietly.
His sister hummed, thinking the question over. “Yeah, pretty much. It’s been that way for a while, but hopefully all of this,” she gestured to the mountain of blankets, ”should help.”
“Well, let’s just hope he sleeps a little easier tonight,” Kai said, preparing himself for a long night, “because we’re not going anywhere. And if he’s lucky, maybe he’ll get to keep all of his toes!”
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drabbles-mc · 5 months
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Speaking Volumes
Brian Godlock x F!Reader
Inspired by @storiesofsvu's Holiday Bingo prompt: spending xmas alone
Warnings: 18+, angst, hospitals, blood/injury
Word Count: 3.6k
A/N: There was no way that I was going to be able to watch Silent Night and not want to write a story about it. So here we are! Getting out of my comfort zone with this and I had sooooo much fun with this. I feel like I already want to write more for Brian and this Reader but we shall see. Anyway! Enjoy. 😌
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No one had stepped up to try and stop you when you had offered to work Christmas Eve. Usually it was a lot more of a fight to get enough people volunteering to staff the hospital for the holidays. Or, at least, that’s what you’d been told. It was your first round of holidays in La Porte—you’d only moved there a couple months before. But it seemed pretty similar to the other hospitals that you’d worked in, in that regard. Volunteers were always preferable, and if there weren’t enough then they would start drawing short straws.
Christmas hadn’t been your favorite holiday in a long time, and being in a new city with no real friends yet, far away from what little family you still considered yourself close with, certainly didn’t do anything to revitalize your holiday spirit. Work didn’t really stop you from being alone on Christmas in that way. Work didn’t bring your family closer, it didn’t magically give you friends and make you close with your coworkers. What it did do, however, was give you something to do. A task. It made you feel useful. That would have to suffice until this time next year.
You were up to your nose in discharge paperwork, patients who were eager to make it home just in time for Christmas Eve. Some of them were leaving even when they probably shouldn’t have been, but there was nothing that you could do to stop them. You’d see some of them again soon, maybe even before New Years came around. Some of them you tried to convince to stay, but deep down you knew that they weren’t going to listen. You were used to that, too.
While the entire night wasn’t filled with chaos, you found yourself waiting for it anyway. There were more empty beds than there had been at the start of the day, and you were waiting for the inevitable call that would fill them all again. That was the cycle of it. The fact that it was a holiday didn’t really matter, per se, but it always felt different around the holidays. It felt more different this year when your patients were going to be the only ones that you were spending Christmas Eve with.
Just as you were finishing up notes on one of your patients that hadn’t been discharged, you heard the call. You heard the rushed footsteps. Doing one last look-over to make sure your patient was alright, you snapped their chart closed before taking off in the same direction that everyone else was going.
“What do we got?” you asked as you kept pace with the doctor who had headed off first, leaning forward just a little bit, so you could hear her answer above all the other background noise that was crinkling in your ear.
“Another shoot-out.” She kept her answers with you short and clear, or at least always tried to, which you appreciated. You never had to ask her to do it, either, and she was never condescending about it. She wasn’t warm and friendly with you, or seemingly anyone, but she was kind in a very professional way.
You were shaking your head, not at the way that she answered you but about what her answer was. The world didn’t stop for the holidays. Unfortunately, just like the hospital, crime was a business that operated all 365 days of the year. Kept you busy enough but sometimes you wished that it didn’t. “Jesus,” you muttered, more to yourself than to the doctor.
Apparently you’d said it louder than you meant to, not always the best at dialing in your own volume. You wouldn’t have noticed it if the doctor hadn’t also responded to you. It got lost in the increased volume of the sirens as the two of you came to a stop outside the door where the ambulances were rolling up.
“What?” you asked, unsure if what she’d said was something that you needed to know.
She turned so that she was looking directly at you, so that you were able to read her lips as she spoke. “Said I don’t think Jesus had anything to do with this.”
You didn’t have any good rebuttal for that. She was probably right. The two of you stood in silence as the ambulances came to a stop, the paramedics inside them instantly piling out. You were so busy looking at the two men that were being wheeled out on their gurneys. Neither of them looked like they were in good shape, but you were so busy looking at them that you forgot to look at the medics as they spoke. Their words became part of the static of the scene, the aid you were wearing only able to filter through so much. You were internally cursing yourself for not paying attention, but regardless you knew that you were still on deck to help. You knew enough about how it all went go get you through until you could talk to the doctor. Stepping towards the gurney closest to you, you tagged in and pushed it into the ER.
From the second you came to a halt in the ER, you were dialed in. The cacophony of noise and static got hard to sift through sometimes, but every now and then you could tune it out. There was a certain element of routine to gunshot wounds and stab wounds which helped. Care varied slightly depending on where the injuries were, how bad they were, but there was a series of steps that had to be followed for all of them. You could do that part of it without issue, without any dragged-out discussion that you had to maneuver through.
One of the two men brought in was a cop. You’d caught someone saying that at one point during the entire process. You hadn’t managed to catch any tidbits about the other man, though. And even though no one had said which one of the patients was the police officer, you had a feeling it wasn’t the man that you were currently peeling the clothing off of. Sure, he might’ve had a bulletproof vest on, but something still didn’t say cop to you. It didn’t matter. Cop or criminal or anything in between he still needed bullets pulled out of him and stitches put in and probably a handful of other things you wouldn’t know about until later.
You were working in tandem with the doctors who were staffing the ER for the night. You didn’t know them quite as well since the ER wasn’t typically where you worked most of the time, but you at least knew of them. You had no idea if they also knew of you, too.
You hadn’t heard what the other doctors and nurses had been saying about the other patient, but what you did hear was the monotonous single note that came with someone flatlining. You looked up just long enough to make sure it wasn’t your guy. When you saw the weak but still present rhythm on the monitor, you looked back over your shoulder. You saw the team trying desperately to get the man’s heart to beat. Even though you didn’t know what exact injuries he’d come in with, there was a feeling in the pit of your stomach that was telling you there was nothing that they were going to be able to do to bring him back. The other doctor was too far away for you to be able to read his lips but you saw him looking at the clock on the wall and you knew exactly what he was saying regardless. You didn’t want to have to be doing the same for your patient so you dove right back in.
He was shipped off to surgery quickly once you did your initial check and they got an operating room ready. There was nothing that they needed from you for him at that point. You stayed out on the floor, checked back in on your other patients. When he came back out of surgery, if he made it back out of surgery, then he’d be your responsibility again.
You were watching the doors to the wing of operating rooms swing closed when you thought you heard someone behind you talking to you. Turning around, you saw another doctor standing there, jacket on with her bag on her shoulder. She looked at you expectantly and you knew you’d missed the question.
“Sorry, what?”
She nodded towards the doors that were now shut. “Was that Brian?”
You shook your head. “I, um, I don’t know. He didn’t…didn’t come in with any ID.” You paused, taking in the pensive look on her face. “Who’s Brian?”
“Godlock,” she said, like it sufficed as any kind of real answer. When she saw that you were still lost, her eyes widened. “Right. You weren’t here last—” She stopped herself short. “This time last year he came in. Multiple gunshot wounds. Just lost his son. It was…horrible.”
“Oh…” You were sure that you were supposed to have something to say and you just didn’t.
You weren’t sure if she was talking to you or herself when she said, “He’ll make it.” She nodded, still not looking at you. “He made it last time. He’ll make it this time.”
She didn’t say anything else to you, or to the powers that be. No goodbye, no Happy Holidays or anything of the sort. She just kept on walking, leaving you alone once again. You turned your attention back to the closed doors. Brian. You turned the name over in your head as you thought about what he looked like. He might’ve been a Brian. Sighing, you turned and made your way back to the main floor to keep busy while you waited. You’d find out if he was Brian or not soon enough.
It turned out that the doctor on her way out the door had been right. The man who you helped wheel into the ER was in fact Brian Godlock. A name that meant nothing to you but all it took was a quick Google search to see why she would have remembered him. You thought that you were spending Christmas alone, but you couldn’t even imagine what it was going to be like for him.
When you made it to his room in your rounds, he was asleep. Stable, thankfully, but asleep. You checked his vitals, looked over what exactly they’d done to him in the OR, the extent of the work that they had to put into him. It was a waiting game now.
Just as you were updating his charts you saw out of the corner of your eye some movement on the bed. A tiny shift, but it was something. Turning your head, you saw him slowly starting to shift around, his eyes starting to open. You set his chart down and walked over so that you were standing closer to his head. Part of you wanted to reach out and try to offer some type of reassurance, but you didn’t. You watched him slowly come to terms with where he was. His eyelids hung low for a moment as he looked around, but when he fully recognized where he was and why, you saw him starting to get frantic. A lot of people in his position usually did.
“Brian,” you did your best to be mindful of your tone, your volume, “Brian you’re alright. You’re in the hospital, but you’re okay.” You waited for him to look you in the eyes, and it was only then that you continued. “You’re okay.”
He hesitated, staring at you for a few seconds that felt more like minutes. But then you saw it, the slight drop of his shoulders, the almost imperceptible nod of his head. You didn’t know him well enough to know if it was out of compliance or defeat. He wasn’t relaxed, not by any means, but at least he no longer looked like he was about to get up and try to make a break for it. He sunk back against the pillow and you gave a nod of approval.
“Want me to call your wife?” you asked as you stepped back to grab his chart again. When he didn’t respond, you looked over at him, saw the confusion on his face. Nodding towards the gold band around his finger you said, “You didn’t have anyone as an emergency contact, so we didn’t call anyone. But if you give me your wife’s number I can call her.”
He shook his head. You didn’t feel the expression your face must’ve taken on, but whatever it was, it prompted him to motion at you, miming writing with a pencil. Opening the drawer of the cabinet by his bed, you pulled out a pad of paper and a pen and handed it to him. He nodded in thanks as he took it from you. The breath he pulled in was ragged as he found his grip on the pencil and began to write. He wasn’t holding onto it for very long before he handed the pad of paper back to you.
I can’t talk.
Your eyes widened as you shook your head. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t had the chance to read all the way back in your chart.” Clearing your throat, you handed the pad back to him and said, “I can still call your wife if you want.”
He scribbled again. No you can’t.
The look on his face didn’t give you any clue as to why you couldn’t call. Whether he was divorced or if it was something much more tragic than that, you didn’t know. You weren’t going to ask him, either. He’d clearly been through enough without you trying to drag all of that out of him.
“You can’t talk,” you said, allowing yourself a small smile, “and I can’t hear. So I think we’ll be alright.” Looking over at him, you saw the way his brows drew together. You chuckled, turning your head a little more so that he could see your ear and your hearing aid a little better. “Been deaf in my left ear my whole life. Right ear has just been getting worse and worse.” You shrugged. “I learned sign—still learning, actually. It might be helpful for you too.”
He hesitated, and you caught it. You frowned, but you understood. You knew precious little about the man lying on the bed in front of you, but what little you knew gave you enough of a picture. You didn’t know all of the details of what he’d been through that night, but you knew the outcome, the injuries. You knew what happened to his son, and now you knew that something happened with him and his wife. Something was telling you that he hadn’t gone into the evening really planning on needing to communicate with anyone anytime soon.
“Help,” you said simply when you saw in his eyes that he was getting lost in his own thoughts. He looked at you, confused once more. “It’s a good sign for you to know for now.” You put one hand out, palm-up, and made a thumbs-up with your other hand and placed it in your flat palm before lifting both hands in unison. “Help.” You nodded at him. “Try it.”
For a moment you thought that he was going to brush you off. You wouldn’t have blamed him for it. He didn’t know you, didn’t owe you anything. But right now you were all he had, and he was all you had too. Maybe that was part of why he humored you, or maybe there was something else entirely going on in his head. Either way, he mirrored your hand positioning and motions.
You smiled and nodded. “Good. Now you at least know how to ask me for help.”
He nodded, almost lifting the ends of his lips. It was more than you expected to get from someone in his position. He grabbed the pad of paper again and wrote Thank you.
You pressed your fingertips to the front of your chin before pulling them away, letting your arm drop like a drawbridge. “Thank you.” You paused, laughing. “Not to be confused with, you know,” you brushed your fingertips along the bottom of your chin, flicking them outwards, “that one.” You smiled. “That one, everyone knows.”
The smile he gave at that looked a little more real. Still tired, but real enough to make it feel like a win, like a good punctuation mark to the entire conversation. You took a breath and walked back to put the last few details on his chart.
“I’ll be back to check on you in a little while. But,” you set the chart down at looked at him, “you should try to rest. You’ve been through a lot tonight.”
He gave a small nod before pressing his fingertips to the front of his chin and pulling them out and away. You laughed, nodding before stepping out of the room to go about the rest of your business.
The rest of the night wasn’t nearly as busy as when Brian had been brought in. There were no more ambulances and flashing lights. No more sirens. It was quieter for the rest of the night than it had been, but it wasn’t as still as the start of your shift had been. You glanced in Brian’s room when you would walk by even though you couldn’t stop to really check in yet. He always looked like he was sleeping. His eyes were shut.
When you finally made it back to his room, it was with an armful of paperwork. It all had to get done and there was nothing stopping you from completing it while you sat in the chair beside his bed instead of the chair at the nurses’ station.
You didn’t hear him when he started to stir again. You were so focused on the paperwork in your lap that you didn’t catch him out of the corner of your eye, either. Brian could’ve waved to get your attention, could’ve cleared his throat obnoxiously loud as a means to the same ends. Hell, if he wanted to, he could’ve thrown his pencil at you. But instead he just watched you. Watched as you scribbled on the clipboard in front of you, flipping back and forth between the pages. Watched as you gnawed at your bottom lip in concentration, deep in thought.
It wasn’t until you were moving on from one small pile of papers to the next that you looked up and realized that he was awake. You gasped quietly in surprise, eyes widening. Your shocked gasp shifted into laughter as you leaned back in your chair. “Sorry,” you said as you placed your closed fist against your chest and made a circular motion. “Didn’t realize you were awake.”
He raised his eyebrows slightly before tapping his ear with his pointer finger. You rolled your eyes and smiled, knowing exactly what he was communicating to you without him speaking or writing it down. “I know why I didn’t realize it. I’m just saying.” You were about to get back into your paperwork when you saw him copy your sign for sorry. You would have assumed that he was just repeating your motions for the sake of learning if the look on his face hadn’t been so sincere. “Why are you sorry?”
He grabbed the paper and pencil and started writing. He held it up for you to see, his handwriting just large enough so that you didn’t have to take it from him to read it. You’re here on Christmas.
You let out a humorless laugh. “Don’t be sorry. Wasn’t really, um, feeling the holiday spirit much anyway.” You paused. “I volunteered.” Leaning forward, you propped your elbows on your knees. “Lucky for you, though, right?” It was impossible to miss the conflicted look on his face. Letting out a sigh, you said, “I’m not going to ask what happened tonight. Partially because it’s probably a lot to write,” you allowed yourself a tiny smile before continuing, “but also because you’re going to have to answer all of those questions when the cops get here in the morning.” The surprised look on his face would have been amusing if the stakes were different. “Gunshot wounds—they always have to come when there are gunshot wounds.”
He let out a deep sigh, somehow managing to sink deeper into the hospital bed, into the pillow. He shut his eyes for a moment, a long, slow blink before he stared ahead at the wall opposite of him. You thought you’d lost him for the rest of the night before he grabbed his pencil again.
You don’t have to sit here all night.
You smiled, allowing the diversion of the conversation. “I know. But we’re both alone on Christmas. So now, you know,” you settled back in your chair with a fresh slip of paperwork, “now we’re not.”
Despite all of the emotions pooling and swirling around his eyes, he nodded. He moved his pencil for a moment, almost like he was about to start writing. He stared hard at the paper for a few seconds before he let the pencil drop. He looked at the blank sheet of paper for a moment longer before he turned and looked at you instead.
You gave him a small but warm smile as he looked at you, not sure what else you could offer him, or should offer him. It wasn’t much, but it must’ve been the right thing because he let out a deep breath, settling down a bit more. He was still looking at you when you went back to looking at the paper in front of you. You found yourself settling a little bit more too, feeling a little less alone than before.
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deanstead · 2 years
Text
Pieces (21): i believe in you
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Chapter 21: I believe in you
Chapter Summary: Collectively, Jay and Y/N both take steps forward.
Word Count: 1,686
Warnings: none
A/N: We are heading towards the end already! I feel like the last few chapters mostly are trying to wrap up stuff and included time jumps but I still hope you guys will enjoy it!
SERIES MASTERLIST || JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST
Previous Chapter || Next Chapter
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“Marry me.”
The words bounced around the apartment and you froze. Now, that you hadn't been expecting. And you didn’t know what to feel right about now. The sense of relief and security that came with knowing that Jay had always planned for and wanted a future with you and Chloe, or the tingle that the word ‘marry’ sent through your body half like a warning signal.
You looked up at Jay, who was sitting next to you, holding both your hands in his, as he looked back at you.
“Jay, I…” You paused.
Jay shifted just a little. “Listen, Y/N. I know maybe it sounds crazy. Trust me, I had a whole idea of how I would do it, about waiting maybe a little longer, about making a big deal out of it and taking you and making it at least twice as romantic as now. But right now, I know this is it. This is the future, our future. It’s you, Chloe and me.”
You took a deep breath.
“It took a long time for me to finally get back on my feet, to slowly put the pieces of mine and Chloe’s life back together again and I stopped believing, Jay. I stopped believing in marriage.”
You paused, as you watched Jay’s face fall, even though you knew he was struggling to keep it straight.
“But I believe in you.” You whispered.
Jay looked up again. “Is that a yes?”
Your smile was all the answer he needed. “Okay, wait. Don’t say anything.” Jay said hurriedly, letting go of your hands and pushing his chair back enough for him to slide onto one knee.
Jay pulled out a ring that he must have had with him this entire time. “Y/N, will you marry me?”
You laughed. “Yes, Jay. I’ll marry you. Probably a good idea to marry this little one’s father too.”
Jay froze. “What?”
“I’ve been freaking out about how to tell you for a week. I didn’t want things to change. I was afraid this might not be what you want, I was afraid that it would push you to move things along when you weren’t ready, I was afraid you’d ask me to marry you just because I’m pregnant.” You were talking so fast, it was like the words were coming out of your mouth in a rush. “But now I know.”
It was true. You could barely stand on your own with just Chloe but you were so afraid that Jay would make decisions based on what he should do, rather than what he truly wanted. But you should really have known better.
The smile that spread across Jay’s face was infectious as he got up, leaning over to pull you into a deep kiss, one of his arms pulling you against him, his other hand gently caressing the side of your face.
“When did you…” Jay asked as he pulled away, the happiness almost flowing out of his entire being, like a radiant light.
You smiled. “I’ll tell you. All of it.”
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The next hurdle was trying to explain this whole situation to Chloe.
You’d decided to take things slow so on one of those slow nights when Jay was home, you’d sat Chloe down. “Hey sweetheart, can I talk to you about something?”
Jay turned just a little from where he was in the kitchen but didn’t come out and you sat on the floor next to Chloe.
“I wanted to ask you about Jay.” You said, crossing your legs on the floor.
Chloe looked up from what she had been doing.
“What do you think if we all move in together?” You prompted gently.
Chloe frowned and you felt a momentary worry bubble up in your chest until she spoke. “Jay lives here.”
You bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing aloud. Chloe was right. Jay practically lived here, his bed back at his apartment probably hadn’t been slept in for months.
“Well, yes. But we were thinking of a more permanent place. We’d find a bigger place. If you’re okay with it.”
Chloe turned her head to look at Jay. “Forever?”
You glanced at Jay, who stepped out of the kitchen, hanging the cloth he was using over one of the chairs. “Yeah, you okay with that?” Jay asked Chloe directly, heading towards the both of you and settling himself on the floor next to her.
Chloe turned her head back to look at you. “And he won’t leave? Ever?”
You exhaled slowly. You would never forgive Caleb for doing this to Chloe.
“Never, kiddo. What do you say?”
Chloe broke into a smile. “I love you, Jay.” She announced like an answer, getting up to go give Jay a hug, the unspoken words flowing out from that simple sentence and Jay pulled an arm around her, exchanging a smile with you as you felt the sense of relief flood through you. A conviction that everything was going to be good from now on.
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You held off on breaking the news of the pregnancy to Chloe, figuring you’d give her time to get used to a new shift of dynamics. Although maybe she was so used to either waking up to Jay’s breakfast or going to sleep after Jay tucked her in that it just felt like the three of you fell back into a normal routine.
You’d continued the conversation in little short bits, talking to her about the fact that you and Jay were going to get married, and answered her questions. Jay had started apartment hunting which as far as you knew hadn’t been going too well until he told you that he had somewhere to take you and Chloe to that weekend.
It was a nice house, stairs leading up to a nice porch and you figured you were here to see someone although you didn’t understand the mystery. Until Jay opened the door to an empty house.
You glanced at him. “What do you think?”
“What do I… Jay, are you serious?” You asked, stepping inside to a house you’d only dreamed of.
“Not too far Chloe, and be careful.” Jay reminded, as Chloe ran in to explore, only getting a yell of ‘Okay!’ in response.
He turned back towards you and smiled. “I know this guy. So, it’s ours if we want it. I bargained for some time.”
“Can we afford this?” You asked, moving further in.
It wasn’t a huge house, but it would be a nice fit for four, at least. “Don’t get my hopes up otherwise.” You warned with a smile.
Jay smiled back. “I’ll tell him we’ll take it.”
You moved closer to Jay as he enveloped you into a one-armed hug. “Home sweet home.” Jay whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.
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Between preparing for the wedding and moving into your new place, the days melded into weeks and months. Everyone was excited about the wedding and you'd kept the pregnancy as quiet as you could for a while.
But before you knew it, the day was here.
It was supposed to be a small, intimate wedding but what with Intelligence, your friends at Med, and even some of the people from Firehouse 51, it had grown to be just slightly larger than what you’d originally planned for. But it still kind of qualified as the intimate wedding you’d wanted, in a small church with only the people who knew and cared about the both of you.
“It was like a magical power that drew me to you and until this moment I can’t explain it. What I do know is this is what I want - you, me, Chloe.” Jay paused, turning to glance at your daughter sitting next to Will and smiled at her. You knew he was thinking about the little one growing in you now as well, but because you hadn’t had the talk with Chloe he kept it back.
Will lifted Chloe off the chair, nodding at her to join the two of you in the front before Jay continued, looking straight at Chloe. “I will spend the rest of my life loving, protecting and caring for my girls. Forever.”
Chloe smiled, reaching over to hug Jay and you took a deep breath, holding back the tears before you smiled back at Jay.
“I was sure the pieces of my broken heart and life were never going to be put back together again. But you took me anyway, broken pieces and all. You loved us, more than I ever thought possible and you put us back together. I’m much more me when I’m with you, and you are the reason I can feel whole again. I love you.” Your voice was low but it filled the whole church.
The minister smiled. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Jay picked Chloe into his arms before he leaned over, his hand gently tracing the line of your jaw and he kissed you, sealing the promise with Chloe squashed between the two of you, her giggles mixing with the cheers that erupted from your friends.
The after party was held at Molly’s, and even while you’d been busy with everyone else coming to congratulate you and Jay, you knew you didn’t have to worry about Chloe. Between Connor and Ethan coming to give you hugs of congratulations, or even Intelligence coming over to tell you that Jay was lucky to have found you, you could hear your daughter’s tinkling laughter resound through the bar.
The whole time, Chloe would be sitting in someone’s arms, throwing her head back to admire the twinkling lights streaking across the ceiling that she was fascinated by. You smiled, sure she felt as loved in this moment as you did. Even when she turned quiet, you’d turned to see her sleeping soundly on Will’s shoulder and Will had nodded at you not to worry. Jay pulled you against him, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“I love you.” He whispered.
You entwined your fingers and smiled. “I love you.” You whispered back.
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leossmoonn · 2 years
Note
list #3: ❛  i can’t lose you , too.  ❜
this gives me matt vibes but also maybe peter vibes
your choice lol
Matt because Matt is the king of pain
Also the way this is a whole ass fic? Idk bc I liked the prompt hehe.
————
“Where is she?” Matt asks as he runs into the hospital. Foggy and Karen stand up from the lobby, rushing over to Matt who is running to every patient room to try and find you.
“Matt,” Foggy says. “I-I can’t find her,” Matt stammers, feeling dizzy. “It’s okay, Matt. She’s upstairs resting,” Karen assures him. They take Matt to you. You’re sitting in the hospital bed with your leg in a cast. But you don’t look bothered at all. In fact, you’re watching one of your favorite Disney movies while eating an ice cream sundae. You smile as you see your friends and boyfriend walk in. “Hey! I was wondering when you guys would come back!”
Karen and Foggy wave to you, while Matt tries to figure out what’s wrong with your body. “Matty,” you say, sitting up in bed. “I have a broken leg and bruised ribs, but nothing the doctor’s said can’t fix,” you say with a happy smile. Then Matt starts crying. Foggy and Karen move to comfort him, but you give them a smile and a nod, telling them that you have this handled. They leave you two alone. You reach out for Matt’s hand, pulling him closer to your bed. He sits down next to your leg. “Baby, I’m okay,” you say. He shakes his head. “N-No, you’re not. You won’t be able to walk. Which means you won’t be able to run your restaurant. And-and I don’t even know what a bruised rib means for you.”
“Baby, it’s not as bad as you think. I just can’t lift heavy things, I have to make sure I don’t bump it. No strenuous activity. Which means no sex for a while, especially with my leg. But hey, hopefully I heal fast,” you say with a grin.
Matt shakes his head, not being able to laugh. He admires your optimism. He wishes he had that, but he can’t shake the fact that he almost lost you. You’re the most important person to him. You’re the one who keeps him grounded, the one who cares and loves him no matter if he’s having a hard day or a good day. You’ve stuck by him for many years, and the thought of losing you makes him sick. He can’t believe he got close to that today.
You slip your hand into his, bringing it up to your lips to kiss his knuckles. “Matt, stop thinking whatever you are thinking and listen to me. I know what happened was scary, but I am okay. I’m really lucky I didn’t get injured worse. I know this sucks, and trust me, I’m not happy about this either, but it’s just what it is. But the important thing is is that I’m alive. I’m breathing, and honestly, I don’t feel too bad. This bruised rib will heal quickly, and the leg will take some time, but I’ll get there.”
“I know, but I —”
“Nu-uh. Do not blame yourself,” you shake your head. “You’re not allowed to.”
Matt sighs and nods, taking his glasses off to wipe his eyes. “I know you’re okay. I-I know you’re going to be okay, but I almost lost you. This just proves that you’re in danger with being with me. I have a lot of enemies and one of them almost killed you today. I… I can’t lose you, Y/n. I’ve already lost so many, I can’t lose you, too.”
You lean over and kiss him sweetly. He leans forward so you can lean back in bed, reaching his hand up to cradle the back of your head. Your hand squeezes his as you pull away. You look into his eyes, cupping his cheek. “I’m sorry to say, Matt, but you are stuck with me. I don’t care you have enemies. I don’t care if they’re after me, too. What I do care about is helping you and sticking by your side. I know it can be scary. I’m scared, honestly, but it isn’t enough for me to break up with you. We are going to get through this together. And once I feel a little better, I can help you on your little missions again.”
Matt chuckles a little bit and you smile. He’s feeling a bit better. “You in that black suit is really tempting, but I don’t want you out with me again.” You groan, “c’mon! That’s so boring!” “I know it is for you, but… please? For me? I won’t be able to think straight if I’m worried about you,” he says. “You’re always worried about me, Matt,” you chuckle. He shrugs, “well, I think you’ll be safer at home than out with me.” “Alright,” you nod. “Then I’ll stay at home but you have to wear an earpiece so I can talk to you.”
He nods, “deal.” You smile and kiss him again, pulling away and resting your forehead onto his. “I love you, Matt. You’re the best.” He shakes his head. “No, you are. You really have no idea.”
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bultaoreunheyyy · 7 months
Text
“You’re a Jerk When You’re Sick” / “I Could Really Use a Hug Right About Now” (Yoongi, Sicktember)
Sicktember Prompt:  #7 “You’re a Jerk When You’re Sick” / Alt. #1 “I Could Really Use a Hug Right About Now”
Word Count: 591
Sickie: Yoongi (cold)
Caregiver: Taehyung
“Yoongi-hyung?”
“Fuck offfff.” 
Yoongi’s response is too whiny to be very harsh, but it still stings all the same. Taehyung stands in the doorway, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet while Yoongi pushes himself up onto his elbows to glare at him.
“Ouch. I was just coming to see if you needed anything.”
“No.”
“Okay….do you want–”
“I said no. Fuck off.” 
“You’re a jerk when you’re sick, you know that?” Taehyung’s trying to sound unaffected, but his voice wavers obviously and he feels his cheeks heat up when Yoongi looks over at him sharply. “Whatever,” he adds, turning away so Yoongi doesn’t see the way his eyes are growing watery. 
“I just want to sleep, Taehyung.”
Taehyung bites his lip and nods, silent. He starts to leave, but stops when he hears a gasp.
“Hyung?”
A rough, sickly-sounding sneeze bursts out of Yoongi so powerfully that he’s thrown forward, forehead almost hitting his blanket-covered knees. He whimpers afterwards, clutching his head in his hands. Taehyung stays frozen in the doorway, still turned halfway to leave, unsure if Yoongi wants him to go still or if–
“Taehyungie,” comes a whisper, hoarse and broken. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be a–” 
Yoongi is cut off by a cough, and then another, until he’s coughing so hard Taehyung’s worried he’ll puke. He rushes over to the bed, hands hovering just above Yoongi’s back and shoulders as the older man coughs again and again. Just when Taehyung is about to do something, or call for someone, the coughing stops and Yoongi slumps sideways onto the bed, panting hard. 
“Oh, hyung,” Taehyung murmurs, his hands still inches away from Yoongi but not quite touching. “That sounds awful.” 
Yoongi is pinching the bridge of his nose, which is visibly running now, his breathing congested and noisy as it whistles in and out. 
“Do you…do you need anything?” Taehyung asks carefully, scooting just a fraction closer. He looks around for a tissue– the box on the bed next to Yoongi is completely empty– and finds another box on the nightstand. Pulling a few tissues out, Taehyung settles on the bed next to Yoongi and slowly sets them in front of him on the comforter.
There’s a stuffy sniffle, a weak cough, and then Yoongi clears his throat. When he looks up at Taehyung, his eyes are streaming, and Taehyung doesn’t know if it’s from the coughing fit or something else.
“I could really use a hug right about now,” Yoongi whispers.
Taehyung doesn’t even wait for confirmation before reaching down and gathering his hyung up in his arms, pulling him close to his chest even though the angle is a bit awkward. Tissues forgotten on the bed, Yoongi presses his face into Taehyung’s chest and Taehyung tries not to cringe at both the dampness that quickly seeps through his shirt and the hot, open-mouth breaths that puff out over his ribcage. Instead, he focuses on trying to comfort Yoongi, rubbing his hands up and down his arms and back.
Yoongi is practically limp in his arms, body still even as he’s sniffling and clearing his throat and making all sorts of noises. Taehyung is pretty sure he’s holding back tears– or maybe a sneeze– based on the sounds he’s making. 
“Yoongi-hyung?”
“Huh?”
“You should sleep now,” Taehyung urges, patting Yoongi on the back. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” 
Taehyung leans down, his lips brushing against Yoongi’s forehead. He stays there until Yoongi is asleep, his soft snores muffled into his chest.
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philipjohnclapp · 7 months
Text
Cheap cologne, even cheaper cigarettes, and Tennessee whiskey.
Goretober Day 2
Prompt: Strangulation/Choking
Word Count: 1317
A/N: This beats yesterdays, I hope y’all like it. It’s a bit rushed, but, you know. I’m also filling a request with this too- a win-win for me.
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Drinking was always fun, especially when it was with Knoxville. Or just with Knoxville, when his eyes were just on Steve-O, and Steve-O alone. Away from the eyes of everybody else. This was the only time he could shut down his attention whore antics; well, not completely. Just for everyone else, but he always wanted Knoxville's attention. Whether that was requited or not, he fed off it like a tic on a dog.
It was another one of those times, one of his favorites. Just Knoxville in him locked in the bathroom of some frat house. The bathroom was trashed and Knoxville was leaning his back against one of the tiled walls. Steve-O was hovering in front of the sink, he had just done a line; well, Knoxville did too. And Knoxville watched him with an amused look as he watched through the mirror's reflection, watching the light blood trail from Steve-O's nose. Watching his nose scrunch up, as he wiped the blood with the pad of his thumb. Staying there for a moment before he had turned to face Knoxville.
“Fuckkk, dude.. that shits strong.”
Steve-O rasped, finding himself leaning his back against the brim of the sink, as if he could barely keep up and needed something to hold him. His hands ghosted the edge of the sink. Perhaps to hold onto it. Feeling like he was starting to lose all mobility in his waist down, his head all fuzzy from his mixed substances. He wished he could see Johnny's eyes right about now, and not just that taunting, amused, smirk.
“I got only the best for ya, doll.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. He didn't do blow often, but when he did, he REALLY did it. Plus, it felt like a time of celebration. Why not celebrate in a locked bathroom with a bony chick with the only feminine feature about him being his chicken legs, and maybe his Angelina Jolie lips. Otherwise he was about as masculine as they come, no chick has a dick, but Steve-O's barely counted anyways.
Steve-O started to wobble on over to Knoxville, tripping over his feet as he did. Knoxville grasping onto both of his arms, helping to keep him standing. Steve-O just looked at him with dazed eyes, and he laughed. Even though his cheeks tinted with a light shade of red, slightly embarrassed.
“Sorry, dude.. but fuck, thank you so much.”
He hummed, not even backing away from the arms that held him, it was probably the only thing keeping him upright now. His body swayed forward as he got a nice whiff of Knoxville. His cheap cologne, and even cheaper cigarettes. Fucking Tennessee whiskey, he found himself taking a deep inhale. It made his head spin.
“You know…”
Knoxville started, if he didn’t have his shades on Steve-O would be able to see that weird look in his eyes, his stomach flipped at the thought of it. Bringing his head up slightly as if to try and look into his eyes, see past the too dark shades. And maybe even predict his next words,
“Hm?”
Steve-O enlightened him, even the hm sounded slightly slurred. Couldn’t even get that right. His head felt like it was weighing him right back down, so he stopped trying to look up and he looked straight back down at his worn sneakers. Toe and toe with Knoxvilles.
“You could pay me back with a kiss, O.”
His voice sounded too cool, too serious to be a joke. That made Steve-O's nose scrunch. To make it even worse, Knoxville changed the placement of his hands from grasping onto Steve-O's arms, to his waist instead, hulling his ass up pretty much.
He laughed again, a rather nervous one. Unsure how to go about it. It felt wrong, it was wrong, but when did he ever do something right? Nobody was here, and nobody would be there. It wouldn’t hurt to indulge in something. Fill that deep desire that was starting to make itself a home in his gut, so he agreed. Like a sorry fool; nobody could resist Knoxville's charms. Not even Steve-O apparently.
“If you insist.”
As the coke started to kick in, he found himself with the balls to go through with it. Barely managing to lift up his head enough to almost be at levels with Knoxvilles. Kissing the edge of his mouth, cause that’s all he could reach from how he was standing.
Johnny pulled him closer. It surprised him, it made his heart skip a couple beats. His face was flushing. He was now chest and chest with Knoxville. Johnny tilting down his head enough to where they could kiss, Johnny pushing his fingers down onto his hips. Digging them into his bones until it started to burn, and he squealed. Which was muffled by Johnny suddenly pressing his lips completely against Steve-Os. Steve-O deepened it rather desperately.
Johnny's tongue flickered out and he licked Steve-O's bottom lip, before pulling away and somehow managing to flip them around. To where Steve-O's back was now pressed hard against the bathrooms tiled walls. Johnny spoke in a husky voice, it was low and made shivers run down Steve-O's spine as he leaned his head back against the tile. Looking at him with eyes of want, his stomach started to burn with desire, even though the pain of Johnny's grip was there. Even though Johnny was a guy and he shouldn’t be turned on by this.
“Yer a fuckin’ needy whore, Stephen.”
He growled, if his grip could get any tighter, it did. He was gonna have Knoxville shaped bruises tomorrow, he let out a whine as Johnny spoke, rubbing his groin against whatever part of Knoxville was closer. Desperate. He wasn’t even sure what for.
And then Johnny suddenly let go of his waist, only one hand did, but still. It was his right hand. He wrapped it before Steve-O could say a word around his neck. Pressing about as hard as he did on his waist. Hard enough to leave his vision all splotchy, to prevent any word from falling from his now agape mouth. Not even a needy noise.
Johnny pressed his groin against Steve-Os, he could feel Johnny's semi through his jeans. If Johnny wasn’t cutting off his oxygen he’d be on his knees right now. If his bones weren’t all mush he’d have his dick in his mouth.
Knoxville pressed his lips against Steve-Os mouth, kissing him rough and hard. Dragging his teeth against his lip and biting at it. He was sure that his lips were chapped and starting to bleed now. But Johnny licked whatever blood came from his lips without a word. With each kiss, Johnny's hand tightened around his throat, his vision was starting to tunnel as he started to grind himself against Johnny like the dirty dog he was. Trying to let out a moan that wouldn’t escape.
Steve-O's heart starting to race with worry, like the fight or flight was starting to kick in. His hands shooting up to grasp onto Johnny's arm. Subconsciously digging his nails into it. It felt like his eyes were about to bulge straight out of his head. Like they would explode like water balloons. He was leaving deep crescent moons into Johnnys arm. Steve-O had tears coming from his eyes as his head started to lull forward, he could barely keep his eyes open now. They were so close to shutting, and then Johnny adjusted his grip, and it felt like his head would pop off like in a cartoon. His face flushed a deep shade of purplish red as he slipped into a blissed out unconsciousness, coming in his slacks.
The last thing he heard was Johnny letting out a low moan, one he hoped to remember when he woke up. He needed to do cocaine with Johnny Knoxville more often.
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fanficshiddles · 2 years
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All His Fault, One Shot
Thanks for the prompt, tomhiddlesbaby07 Hope you like it!
Could you pls write a fic we’re your a college student and Tom Hiddleston is your professor and you have to get your grades up 🤭 im sorry im just addicted to professor Hiddleston
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You really struggled in his class. But it wasn’t your fault at all, of course. It was his fault.
His fault for being so bloody gorgeous. For having the voice like an angel, or maybe the devil, that always sent shivers through you whenever he spoke. His fault for having such authority over everyone that it made your thighs clench together.
Professor Hiddleston. Who taught English. It was all his fault, for merely existing.
At the end of his class, you managed to talk yourself into asking him for help. As you really needed to get your grades up, desperately. But you were a bit scared to ask him, as it meant you’d have to actually speak to him one on one.
He was so intimidating you felt like bailing out as you hung back to speak to him once everyone else had left.
‘What can I do for you?’ Professor Hiddleston asked with a smile as you approached his desk at the front of the class.
‘Professor Hiddleston… I uhm… I’m really struggling with my grades right now…’
‘Yes, I can tell by your work. Not your best.’ He cut in with, making you feel even smaller at his tone.
‘I… I was wondering if I could get some extra tuition? Or what can I do to get my grades up more?’ You blurted out quickly, hoping he would maybe give you some extra help.
Hiddleston folded his hands together on his desk and leaned forward a bit, eyeing you intently.
‘You’re struggling because you’re not focusing in class.’ He said sternly.
‘I… yeah… I know.’ You looked down and fiddled with your hands.
Professor Hiddleston eyed you up and down slowly as he leaned back in his seat, not that you noticed as you were too busy looking down. Till he spoke again, that made you jump a little.
‘Come to my office at lunch. I’ll give you a way to get your grades up.’ Was all he said, then he looked down and began marking some work again.
You frowned, confused at what he meant. How would he help with your grades? Maybe just extra tuition at lunch times? You sure hoped so.
‘Thanks, professor.’ You whispered, then rushed out of his class to get to your next one.
When lunch time rolled round, you were once again very nervous as you made your way to professor Hiddleston’s office. You knocked and he instantly called you in.
‘Lock the door behind you.’ He said firmly as you stepped inside and shut the door. You looked over at him, confused. But the look on his face just told you to do as you’re told. So you did.
‘Professor Hiddleston, I appreciate getting some extra tuition. It will really help.’ You said as you walked towards his desk.
‘Who said anything about tuition?’ He said with a raised eyebrow.
‘I… I’m sorry, professor? I thought… I thought that was why you wanted to see me just now.’ You frowned.
‘I said I’d give you a way to get your grades up. But not that I would give you extra tuition.’
‘So… why am I here?’ You asked nervously, the look of hunger in his eyes both terrifying and arousing at the same time. You had a feeling you knew deep down what was going on here… Or what was about to go on.
‘Come here, pet. Kneel on front of me.’ He said calmly, but dominantly.
How could you refuse?
Your feet moved of their own accord and you quickly found yourself on front of him as he turned to the side in his chair, legs splayed wide open. Obviously he was aroused from the big bulge in his trousers.
He reached out and cupped your cheek softly, his thumb brushed against your skin. Setting you alight.
‘Relax, pet. You can leave whenever you want…’
‘I… I don’t want to leave.’ You whispered.
Hiddleston grinned. ‘Good girl.’
You shivered under his praise as he started unzipping, taking his cock out. He was already aroused, pre cum pooled at the tip.
‘If you please me, then I will make sure your grades are sorted.’ He sat back in his seat, waiting for you to start.
Taking a deep breath, you reached out and hesitantly touched him, softly at first. He twitched at your touch instantly, making you feel bolder as you wrapped your hand around him and began stroking up and down.
‘You can be harder, pet.’ He growled and let his head tip backwards as he closed his eyes.
Your grip tightened around him more and you continued stroking him, then you leaned in and pressed an innocent kiss to the tip, tasting his pre cum. He moaned, but still kept his head back. So you parted your lips and started taking him properly into your mouth.
‘Ohh that’s it.’ He purred and his left hand reached out into your hair, stroking through to your scalp, feeling so good.
Your hand continued stroking him, making up for what you couldn’t get in your mouth. He was very well equipped. And you focused on lavishing your tongue around him, swirling and then hollowing your cheeks and sucking him as far as you could, that really got him moaning and grunting.
When his grip in your hair tightened and he started panting, you could tell he was close. You relaxed your throat and jaw, and focused on breathing through your nose, so you could swallow him as deep as possible. Then you pulled out a trick that made him explode. For a brief second you were able to bob your head right down so your nose pressed into his pubic hair.
Hiddleston’s eyes flew open in utter surprise at you being able to do that. And he moaned so loud, you were worried that someone will have heard. But you couldn’t worry for long as he spurted hotly straight down your throat.
You of course choked on his cock because of how far down you had him. But that feeling only made his orgasm all the sweeter.
As you pulled off him, gasping to get air back into your lungs properly, drool and cum mixed together dribbled down your chin.
His mouth was still parted in shock as he looked down at you. He leaned forward, his forehead rather sweaty, and leaned out to tuck your hair back behind your ear as you licked your lips.
‘Well…’ He coughed to try and compose himself a bit more. ‘That was a delightful surprise… It’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?’ He winked at you, making you blush.
‘You did say I had to please you… And I want good grades.’ You said the last part quickly. Though both of you knew really that pleasing him was your main goal. The fact your knickers were soaking was enough proof of that, just from pleasuring him.
‘I think you deserve much more than just good grades for that, pet.’
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rocknrollsalad · 5 months
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Oooh, Stargyle has so much unexplored potential.
What about Steve and Argyle both going to community college for something hands on: woodworking, welding, pottery, plumbing--I don't really care? (Why? Steve is a very tactile, hands-on guy and not big on academics, and we see Argyle in woodshop.)
And they have to partner up for a project. They both turn out to be really good at one aspect of the project. Flirtation ensues.
OKAY, so I may have done a really shitty job of following this prompt. I read maybe seven words of it and rushed to a new gdoc. Immediately, I vomited out 1200 words and took it from there.
However, it's received some less-than-favorable reviews already so I stopped writing it. I'm kind of sorry. I'm more sorry about publishing it knowing it's neither finished nor as good as it should be. HOWEVER, here's what I got and I hope you get so many nice things for sending this to me in my hour of need.
tw: drug use (pot) word count: 2705
College was the last place Steve thought he’d be. Sure it was a community college and his parents made sure to let him know exactly how beneath them that was but it was still school. Something he thought he’d finished with because…school sucked. 
It was also the way forward. 
So, yeah, he was twenty-six and attending a full day of classes at some community college. He was also working part-time and somehow finding time to have something close to a social life. Occasionally. Not as much as he wanted on the latter and less in the way of dating but he was out of Hawkins and doing this on his own. 
He’d moved out west three years ago, the last of his friends went off to colleges of their own and left him looking at a ghost of town that held nothing special anymore. It was a necessary bit of sadness to push Steve toward following his dreams. 
Sun and surf, palm trees and tacos, and never a single snow day. Everyone wanted him to hate it, it was so far from them, but Steve hadn’t worn pants or a long sleeve shirt in 30 months. He’d been permanently tan for just as long and his hair found its way to something closer to blonde. The food was better, the people friendlier, and, yeah, everyone he’d grown up with was a plane ride away now but the good outweighed the bad. 
Not to mention, he breathed easier out from under the Harrington shadow. Carving his own way for the first time in his life had been more freeing than being allowed to wear flip-flops to work. Robin, Nancy, Dustin, Max, they’d all understand eventually. Especially if they’d make that plane ride. 
With a job at a daycare, Steve found himself a calling among all the naps on the beach. It made sense that he was good at it but it was luck he’d found out. At least until he got too comfortable there. His boss was the one who talked him into college, she had a list a mile long of things an early childhood education degree could bring him and, by extension, her. Steve wasn’t into the idea. Obviously, he’d done fine without it but she swore he could do so much more. After months of lectures and pamphlets and attempts at reasoning with him, Steve finally caved. 
Once he did, though, she was his biggest supporter. Something Steve actually needed in all this. He didn’t have a lot of faith in himself to earn this degree. On paper, it looked daunting. But his boss helped him pick courses and study for his assessments. Holding his hand every step of the way and crossing a few t’s Steve missed. However, she didn’t console him when the results came back and he was below college level on everything. It would mean a lot of math courses and even more English ones. 
Something he bogged himself down with for the first quarter. Wanting to speed run through catching up, all Steve did was depress himself and lose the desire to carry on. For the next quarter, they balanced things a little more. Classes for his degree and classes for catching up. 
His boss had pushed a course on nutrition, promising it’d be fun and though not directly part of his degree requirements, would come in handy with their new programs and funding. Steve wasn’t sure about the fun part but it sounded far better than another stab at algebra. 
So at ten o’clock in the god-forsaken morning, Steve dragged himself to a part of the school he’d never seen to learn about what foods were healthy. An easy A, Steve thought, the answer to everything here is just vegetables. Don’t give kids candy for breakfast. Carrot cake wasn’t actually healthy. It seemed like something he could do in his sleep. A fact he might put to the test at this hour. 
Claiming a seat in the middle of the room, against the wall in case he needed a nap, Steve readied his supplies in some weird impression of Nancy Wheeler. Trying to look ready to learn even if he wasn’t. Something about faking it until he made it or whatever people said. No one could tell him he wasn’t trying. 
Barely a minute before the class was meant to start (the teacher was nowhere in sight) laughter came from outside the door and followed a couple of guys in. Two other people stood up and they exchanged hi-fives as the jokes were explained and the laughter doubled. 
One guy among them was enough to make Steve sit upright and pay a bit more attention. A gorgeous man with a loud printed t-shirt and the longest hair Steve had ever seen on anyone. He laughed and joked with everyone and Steve couldn’t stop staring. Like everything else in the room had just fizzled away and he was left with this muted conversation and his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. 
This was also something new to California. Not cartoon hearts appearing around guys, that had always been there, but being okay with it. Losing the pressure to be the golden boy had allowed him a chance to experiment and Steve could, with confidence, now say he liked all genders. If only the increase in possibilities had led to less striking out. 
Almost immediately, Steve envisioned being rejected by this guy. He didn’t seem the sort to laugh in his face, maybe he’d let him down gently, say it wasn’t his thing. But a small part of Steve’s mind toyed with the “yes” of it all as he stared across the classroom. 
The teacher had apparently arrived because everyone started to find seats and Steve was left feeling a bit lost and more than a little confused as he tried to come back to the present. The man in the front of the room trying to settle everyone was everything TV made hippies out to be, he sounded like Cheech or Chong and flashed the peace sign seven different times in his introduction. He certainly wasn’t going to be holding any of Steve’s attention but, again, this was just meant to be an easy A. It didn’t have to be dynamic. At least he had a reason to show up every day. 
For days that drifted into weeks, Steve watched the other students arrive nearly the same way every day. This ball of energy and light, laughing and talking with everyone until the teacher made him sit down. Which he did with a casual apology and presented the floor to the man who had no command of the room. It felt like high school, hardly a higher learning situation but Steve’s boss had warned him, that college wasn’t as serious as people made it out to be. 
They were supposed to learn about nutrition and why it mattered but mostly the guy talked about his garden and how to keep pests away. Other students stopped coming but that happened in all classes. Those that stayed, Steve found out, were all in the culinary program and it was this or more practice chopping onions. They were thrilled to be here and didn’t care what the guy talked about. 
Which brought on a new feeling as the class list was an obvious clique and him. Steve was on the outside, not part of the group having fun, and it was a place he’d never been. Robin said it was good for him but he wasn’t so sure. 
Steve thought he was going to spend the whole quarter looking on from afar, not even knowing this guy’s name, and he’d begun to make peace with that. Wondering where just a touch of King Steve was so he could waltz in like he belonged like he was a blessing to them. Maybe he didn’t have to swing his personality so far the other way but there was comfort in being on the outskirts that Steve wasn’t ready to give up. 
Until a month into the quarter, the teacher didn’t show up. Everyone chimed in with different amounts of time they had to wait before they could leave but eventually, one brave soul made the call. Dismissed them all with a promise of an A for the day. Power they didn’t have but a joke the whole class shared. 
As those who weren’t in the culinary program packed up, Steve was approached by the guy he’d been staring at day in and day out. Whatever it was that had Cinderella able to make animals do her chores, this guy had. It was almost hard to be in the presence of and typically Steve wasn’t a fan of anything that made his confidence falter but he recovered in enough time. He hoped. 
“Yo, man. You sit in the class by yourself, like, every day and I keep thinking ‘y’know what? That guy needs a friend!’ so here I am! We’re gonna go across the street to the Erin’s. They both got the same name but one’s a guy and one’s a girl, and they’re dating. It’s not weird, I guess, but I don’t want to be saying my own name in bed, ya know? But, yeah, they got a few new recipes to try and, y’know, plenty of weed. If you wanna come?” 
There was a desperate “yes” on the tip of Steve’s tongue that he hated. “Yeah, I don’t have anything going on until later,” he lied. 
“Righteous! I’m not an Aaron, by the way. Name’s Argyle.” 
“Steve.” 
“That’s so easy to remember. You look like a Steve. Steven?” 
Steve nodded, not really wanting to claim the name in case Argyle wanted to start using it. 
Instead, he nodded for the door and made moves toward it. “Alright, so have you ever had tres leches cake? Tell me you’ve tried this.” 
“I’ve..never heard of it.” 
“Prepare to be delighted. This is a big day for you, man. You’ll never be the same after it. Tell your taste buds to get ready, their tiny minds are going to be blown clean off.” 
The description brought on a familiar feeling, Argyle was gorgeous and kind but under that amazing smile, he was as weird as everyone else Steve knew. And he knew how to hang out with the weird kids. 
On the walk over, Argyle talked about how he got into cooking, why he was in college so “late” in life, and his restaurant owning dreams for the future. Steve couldn’t get a word in but he didn’t trust his flirting or conversational ability so it was for the best. 
And Argyle didn’t seem to have a problem filling the silences or depriving Steve of them. Walking them around and introducing Steve to a bunch of people whose names he forgot immediately, feeding him snacks, and getting them both settled in the “backyard” where, for the first time, Argyle stopped talking. There were a bunch of other people to fill the silences though. 
Most of what was shared, Steve didn’t follow. They spoke with familiarity Steve didn’t have, he hadn’t earned yet. Instead, he listened, passed the joint around, and ate more cake in one sitting than he ever had before. 
All of it made it hard to stay focused. Steve realized his tolerance was not what it used to be and that made it that much harder to impress. Unless sitting quietly and nursing one drink because you were afraid you’d never see another beverage again in your life was now charming. Best he could tell no one seemed to mind but everything was really hazy so they could have been ripping Steve apart and he wouldn’t know. Just smile and take another sip. 
How he got home was a mystery but the half a cake on his kitchen counter said it was done so with kindness. As with any night under the influence, Steve prayed he didn’t make an ass of himself and for the first time, all quarter found himself dreading the nutrition class. 
But Argyle walked in the room and pointed at Steve, crowing out “He lives!!!!” before lowering his voice to add “Glad to see you among the living again, my man. You can not handle your weed.” 
“I’m out of practice and…from Indiana.” 
Argyle’s eyes went wide like the second point explained everything and before he could add anything else, the teacher came in demanding attention for another day of teaching them nothing. Steve moved up a row and relaxed some. Though he did spend more time daydreaming about burgers than cute boys who mock him. 
Not that he didn’t deserve it. He’d been so wrapped up in the new experience that he forgot to seal the deal and there was a version of Steve out there that never would have let that happen. Now he was back to not knowing where he stood but knowing full well he should just find out. He knew how to find out but years of bad luck, a personality shift, and maybe a healthy fear of rejection kept Steve in his seat. 
Every day after that, though, he got a little wave or nod from Argyle as he breezed into class with his group of friends. It was easier to pick out now that Argyle wasn’t the leader of the group, just a very devoted follower whom Steve had made the most important. A familiar scene from the other side. College wasn’t quite the same as high school though and Steve would kill for a pep rally to skip or dance to go to. 
Instead, he stuck to quiet greetings. Like all the other classes he’d had. A group project here or there brought strangers together but for the most part, it was a roomful of people living their lives. At least these guys now welcomed him into the laughs. Though there wasn’t another invite to sit on a square foot of dirt and eat amazing food so he wasn’t part of the club, obviously. 
By the time Steve had made peace with that, the invite to come out to have snacks at a friend’s was thrown his way. Though he was denied a chance to get high. Something he pouted about for far too long. It earned him sympathy but not drugs. He did remember the night this time and got himself home so maybe it was for the best. 
The week after it wasn’t a friend’s place but the kitchens at the school because there was a ton of beef wellingtons that needed to be eaten. Sure most of them were overdone, a couple were burnt, but it was free food, and eating a bit of charred pastry was hardly anything to complain about. 
After everything settled and people were hanging around talking, Argyle grabbed Steve and brought him through to an area with multiple kitchen setups. Lit only by the wall of windows, stovetops sparkled and the smell of bleach overpowered anything they’d been used for. Far beyond any home ec class he’d been in but he felt just as out of place. 
They head over to one of the setups and sure, maybe they were there to try some amazing dish Argyle had in the fridge. Perhaps he just wanted to show off his area or maybe they’d “break the rules” and cook something special. Okay, so that last one was a bit too Hollywood but Steve was lonely, his brain did things like this now. 
It also presented him with a fourth option that changed what sort of movie it was. All alone in a dark room with a guy he’d been lusting after for weeks, there was a very obvious choice. Far more risky than baking after hours, Steve wasn’t sure if he was picking up hints or Argyle just loved everyone but he’d never know if he didn’t try. 
So Steve sucked in a breath and crowded Argyle’s space until the man was backed against the fridge, waiting for any indication this wasn’t welcome. When nothing was said Steve leaned against him. From there instinct took over for both of them and their lips pressed together.
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Just in Time - Pete Wentz x Reader
Prompt: J: Just in time (The present arrives just barely in time! How do they rush up to hand it to them? Do they wait for the perfect time?)(from this list) Reader: can be read as any gender (no pronouns used) Word count: 637
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The entire day Pete had waited by the window, had waited for the van of the shipping agency to turn into the street. Weeks ago he had ordered your Christmas present, with lots of time should things take longer. And of course they had taken as long as possible, rearranging the delivery date every other day, until it was just the day before Christmas. You were still at work, and Pete prayed that the package would arrive here before you did. He had made an effort keeping the order a secret, wanting to create the ultimate surprise with the gift he had chosen.
And now time was running out. You might not be able to guess what was inside the package just from noticing it getting delivered, but you would probably guess that it was a gift for you, because Pete always told you about everything he had ordered. Unless it was a gift.
Impatiently Pete bit down on his lower lip, as if his nervousness would make the driver arrive faster. Once again, like so many times these past hours his glance moved over to the clock above the entrance to the living room. You’d arrive home any minute. Damnit. But he probably should be glad if the package arrived before Christmas either way.
As if manifested by Pete’s pure willpower he suddenly heard the deep rumbling of the motor he had waited for. Quickly he jumped up and pressed his nose against the window. Time and time again he had watched the van drive by without stopping, but now it thankfully slowed down right in front of the house. Excitedly Pete jumped up and ran over to the front door, pulling it open just a second after the door bell had rung through the house.
“Delivery for Wentz,” the exhausted looking, middle aged man grumbled.
Quickly Pete signed the delivery note, and thanked the poor man way too enthusiastically. After watching him walk back to the van, Pete slammed the front door shut and carried the precious package into the furthest corner of the basement where he kept all the presents hidden. Somehow you had not yet discovered his secret hiding place. Before he walked back up the stairs, he checked if the contents of the package were undamaged, luckily finding everything was as it was supposed to be.
As soon as he stepped into the hallway on the ground floor, he noticed your coat on the rack and your boots by the door. He had not even been gone for two minutes, so the package had really arrived in the last minutes before you’d arrived to stay home for the Christmas holidays.
Turning around the corner of the living room, Pete found you had flopped down on the sofa, an arm dramatically draped over your face.
“Looks like you had fun at work,” he joked. Lifting your legs up carefully, he sat down on the sofa, settling your legs in his lap.
“I’m so fucking glad I don’t have to turn up there for the next days,” you mumbled, reaching one hand out to Pete’s arm, searching for additional body contact. “I don’t want to see any of these people over the holidays.”
Pete chuckled lowly and gently massaged your calves, while still thinking about the present he had gotten you. He would need to wrap it, maybe while you were in the bathroom? And on Christmas Eve he’d quickly sneak it underneath the Christmas tree while you were already asleep. He needed an excuse to stay up late. Maybe he could say he wanted to stay up to read or something, or write. Either way, he was absolutely certain he had found the perfect Christmas present for you, and was already looking forward to the expression on your face when you would unwrap it.
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Taglist:
@alexstyx @jayloverthe3rd @robinruns @lookalivefrosty @butterflycore  @omgsuperstarg @fivelegance @casmustdiee @cmtryghoul  
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l0vem00nlight · 6 months
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Welcome to my blog ! I’m so happy to be here with you ! 🩵
I’ve had a few tumblr accounts myself in the passed but I lost interest in some of the things that I was posting. Hopefully that won’t happen with this blog because I looked forward to this. I’m always finding new things to explore on and it just makes me sad to just leave all my hardwork. But it’s always okay to start fresh.
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Rules are one of the most important things for my blogs. Not only do they establish boundaries, they also keep everyone calm. Rules are my number one thing that I will put out for a introduction blog on the internet because when you establish these rules on your blog people will know what to follow and what’s okay and what’s not okay.
RULE ONE - DON’T request smut. I’ll get into more of this rule for the next section of the blog. Lime is fine since it doesn’t really include sexual content just a little bit.
RULE TWO - DON’T request something that doesn’t give me enough information. Tell me what you want the plot to be, what gender you want the reader to be, what you wish to happen in the request that you sent. It’s not fun messing up someone else’s request due to the fact that I didn’t have enough information or it wasn’t explained properly. I want to make you, the person who requested happy. I want you to see that your request has been answered to its fullest extent.
RULE THREE - DON’T rush me. I have school and a life too. I won’t always be able to get your request done in a few days. The reasons being is because of school, maybe I get sick or something happened between family, or it’s simply just because there’s people in front of you awaiting requests. So just wait patiently for me and i’ll make sure that your request gets received.
RULE FOUR - DON’T steal my work. You can repost, of course. But don’t steal it or translate it. Ask for my permission first and specify what your going to do with the work. If I say that you could, go for it and make sure you say that you asked for my permission. If I say no then that’s the end of it. If you see someone who copied my work, please tell me the user.
RULE FIVE - Be nice to not just me, but to everyone else. Everyone earns respect. Be respectful to everyone here and treat people with kindness.
RULE SIX - DON’T be afraid to request. Don’t ever be afraid to request. It’s not like i’m gonna tell you no unless you just didn’t follow the rules and suggested something vulgar.
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I will be writing Finn Wolfhard’s characters. This is why I requested no smut. Some of Finn’s characters are like 15-17 if I am correct. Sorry if i’m not, I just don’t like making smut of characters that aren’t 18 or over. Sorry. I include scenarios, oneshots, prompts, drabbles. I may need to do more research on some of his characters because I only know a few. I don’t want to just list characters that I only know. I want everyone to be able to pick a character that they love ! So don’t let this stop you from requesting your favorite characters that Finn plays.
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✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧
‍ ‍ ♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎
✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧
┆ ┆┆ ✰ [𝗡𝗮𝗺𝗲 - 𝗠𝗼𝗼𝗻𝘆]
┆ ⭒ ‍┆ ✰ [𝗦𝗵𝗲/𝗛𝗲𝗿]
┆ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ✦ ‍ ‍✰ ‍
‍ ♡ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍✰ [𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁]
✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧
‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍
✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧
┆ ‍ ┆ ┆ ‍✰ [𝗜 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴!]
‍ ✮ ┆ ┆ ‍✰ [𝗪𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸]
‍ ‍ ‍ ┆ ‍ ☾︎ ‍✰
‍ ‍ ‍ꕤ
✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧
✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧
┆ ┆ ┆ ‍ ‍✰
┆ ┆ ‍ ‍ ᪥ ‍✰
┆ ✧ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍✰
⊹ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍✰
✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧
✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧
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eternally-smitten · 2 years
Note
How about Othello for the kiss prompts? :D
Hi Caitie!! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to this, today has been crazy for me! ^^; thank you so much for the prompt! I hope you have a fantastic weekend!! :))
40. finger
Natalie furrowed her brows and pouted a bit, "But you promised!"
The corner of Othello's mouth tugged downward a little, "I know, I know. Believe me, I don't want this either, but there's just too much work right now."
Natalie leaned forward against her desk, "Do you know when you'll be done?"
"No, not yet. But definitely not in time for dinner. I'm sorry, I really am."
She leaned back in her chair and started playing with one of her pens, "It's alright. It's not really your fault."
Othello took a seat on her desk and sighed. They had been planning this date for weeks, just to have it be ruined by a whole load of paperwork. Natalie went the whole nine yards planning it too; she had somehow reserved a table for them at this restaurant that is exclusive and hard to get into, and a new candle shop was set to open that very night so she planned on taking him to that as well. It was perfect timing too, both of them had free spots in their schedule at that time. But, of course, nothing can be easy here at the Reaper Headquarters. As soon as Othello was about to grab lunch, a mess of files was slammed on his desk without a second word. He did the math in his head and he'd swamped with it long after their date was supposed to happen. He couldn't put it off, even for an hour. Othello knows Natalie understands this, but it still stings just a little when she tries to figure out a way for them to skirt around it so they can both get their work done and have their date.
He turned to her, "I know you've been looking forward to this. Are you able to try to reserve another spot next month, maybe?"
Natalie gently shook her head, "This was the only opening they had as of recent. I doubt we'll get anything sooner than four months in advanced, and who knows how much work we'll have by then."
"Damn."
"Yeah, damn is right." She joked, turning back to her work, "Listen, it's okay! It's not too important. We'll just figure something else out, I guess!" Her tone was cheery and she was trying her best to stay optimistic, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't disappointed. Crushed, even. A reaper's job is a busy one. No matter what department you're in, you're always either rushing about or up to your neck in files and paperwork. So to be able to plan out this perfect, quiet evening with none of that involved is the chance of a lifetime. Deep down, she knew that there was a very high possibility of this happening, but it still came as a surprise to her.
"Are you sure it's okay?" Othello asked, despite knowing he could do nothing to fix this.
"Of course! It's not your fault you have a job to do!" Natalie tried to smile but it ended up looking a bit fake.
"You know I hate it when you do that." Othello reached over and took a piece of scrap paper, "I'm upset, too."
Natalie let her smile fall and huffed, "It's just...I really thought we had this figured out."
"I know lovely, so did I." He says without looking up from the paper. He started folding and creasing it in his hands, being as gentle as possible to avoid ripping it.
She let out a frustrated chuckle, "A reaper's job is never truly done, is it?"
"Guess not!" Othello hopped off her desk and threw an origami heart on her desk, "I'm sorry, but I gotta get back to work. Maybe if you're still here and I have a moment to breathe, I can walk you home?"
Natalie raised her eyebrows and shook her head, "I guess that'll do." She turned around to face her work when a gloved pinky is shoved in her face. She opens her mouth to question it, but Othello is quick to interrupt her.
"Now listen, I promise you I will make it up to you in the best way possible. I will plan weeks, no, months in advance, and come up with the best date I can think of. I will give you the date of your dreams, okay? Pinky promise!"
Natalie is so caught off guard that she starts laughing, "You don't have to worry about that."
"Who said I was worried?" Othello gives her a sly smirk, "I'm just promising you that I will make it up to you."
Natalie chuckled and linked her pinky with his, "Alright, Othello."
His smile grows wider before he plants a soft kiss on the pad of her thumb. Natalie's cheeks flush bright red and she starts stuttering. Before she can even ask what that was for, Othello answers for her, "That's to seal the promise!"
"Isn't it the other way around? Aren't you supposed to kiss your thumb to seal it?"
He shrugs and gives her thumb another kiss, "Eh, this way is more fun! You're too cute when you blush."
She quickly jerks her hand back to hide her face in it and Othello just laughs.
"I mean it, I promise!" He turns and starts heading down the hall, sadly back to his work. But after that exchange, he is in better spirits about his duties.
F/O kiss prompts here!
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twilight-orchid · 3 years
Text
How the Undatebales React After A Fight
Thank you to my friendo @wholelottatiffy ​ who helped me brainstorm this one. I’m only on chapter 19 at the moment, so I haven’t interacted with anyone but Diavolo much. And thank you to everyone who wanted a follow up to my previous post, I did not expect that. Y’all are super sweet!
tw: Fighting (a bit more in depth than my first post), description of panic attack, minor name calling, insecurity, depression, angst with resolution.
Diavolo:
Diavolo doesn’t know what to do with himself. 
To start, we need to talk about how the argument unfolds.
He’s not used to arguing. 
He’s Lord Diavolo, Prince of The Devildom, head of the RAD student council. No one defys him on anything.
So you raising your voice at him, trying to get him to see your way,
It was very overwhelming.
He tried to reason calmly with you at first, but he felt cornered. 
When fight or flight kicked in, his body chose fight.
His wings burst open in all their glory as he screamed back, his towering frame far more intimidating than yours.
The blind rage is slapped out of him when he sees your terrified face.
If you’re at the castle, he’ll order you to leave if you haven’t already. Anywhere else, he’ll turn and leave without a word. 
He wants to put distance between you both for fear of making things worse.
He absolutely cannot believe he just blew up at you. He would have never thought he'd raise his voice at his partner regardless of the situation.
He can’t shake the image of you flinching from him from his mind.
Now, being the prince of hell certainty has it’s perks; He has power, influence, and everything he could want.
But the one thing he wants the most seems to evade him no matter what: a friend.
A real friend. 
He has Barbatos and Lucifer, but it’s Barbatos’ job to accompany the prince, and Lucifer is bound to Diavolo whether he likes the future king or not.
MC was the first person who chooses to be with and around him for no other reason than the fact that they love him.
And now he’s terrified them. Gotten in their face and screamed at them.
He assumes he’s permanently driven you away.
As soon as you leave or he gets home, he rushes to find Barbatos. To explain what happened and hope his butler would know what to do.
He’ll text Lucifer and ask him to check on you as well.
He just feels lost. 
He wanders the palace aimlessly and he can’t focus on his work without his thoughts drifting to you.
He doesn’t feel like going to school or even getting out of bed. He doesn’t want to speak to anyone - to put on a happy face and pretend his world isn’t shaking.
Yet, a prince has his responsibilities. He will go about his normal public appearances as usual, smile and laugh and carry on, but it’s a mask.
Those close to him clearly notice the prince isn’t himself.
After school he visits the spots that you two visit together frequently.  
Anything to make him feel as if you are still at his side.
If you don’t sleep in his bed that night, he’ll take it as proof that he was right and that you don’t want to be with him anymore.
He doesn’t sleep that night. He clutches your pillow that still smells of you and just bawls. 
He will tell Barbatos he feels unwell the next morning and to postpone his obligations for the day.
This prompts Barbatos to seek you out and see if he can help resolve the issue.
Barbatos tries to stay out of your relationship as he doesn't feel it's his business, but his job is to assist Diabolo in any way necessary. And right now, he needs you more than anything.
If you sleep at his side still, it will be a glimmer a hope. That all may not be lost. 
He’ll give you you space that night. He’ll walk around you on eggshells but always watch you from the corner of his eye to gauge the temperature.
He avoids your gaze, stays on the other side of the room as you prepare for bed, and as much as it kills him, doesn’t hug you or kiss you goodnight.
He spends the night staring at your sleeping face and making silent promises that, if you forgive him, he will never let this happen again.
He thinks of how to apologize. What he could say, what he could do. 
Ultimately though, it feels like everything he could think of is too little of an apology. 
He pretends to be asleep when he sees you stir and decides to let you choose if you want to forgive him on your own.
You will have to approach him first. 
He thinks losing his temper with you was unacceptable and feels like he has no right to ask for your forgiveness.
Worse, he’s terrified of not being given forgiveness.
Thus, I feel a fight with Diavolo will take as long as you let it. He’s willing to suffer as long as you need him to.
Barbatos:
Barbatos doesn’t argue. He sits quietly and watches you, his responses calm but absolute.
He’s no pushover, he will defend his side, but he’s not going to enter a screaming match. It’s just not him.
You know you’ve really gotten under his skin when he offers a tight, forcefully pleasant smile.
He finally shuts down the conflict with "It's your right to feel that way just as it's mine to disagree." And leave it at that.
Post argument, he will avoid you and lock his feelings about the fight inside.
He tells himself he doesn’t have time to deal with the terrible feeling clawing at his heart and takes to his duties as an escape.
If you sleep in another room, he realizes that this isn’t a minor disagreement and he’s suddenly very distressed.
His instinct is to use his future vision. 
To scour the timelines and see how the different versions of himself handle it and to replicate the one with the most desirable outcome.
However, he stops himself. He feels it isn’t fair to you. 
You have a right to be upset about things and he doesn’t want to manipulate the situation, and by extension, you.
Thus, he must find another way to cope.
He’s always a devoted butler, but it’s not his whole life. 
He takes time for himself throughout the day and in the evenings. Unless Diavolo needs him, nights are usually his to do with as he wants.
Now, however, his identity becomes Diavolo’s butler. 
He’s constantly asking for extra work and hovering more than usual around the young lord in hopes of being given a task. 
Diavolo finds it odd and asks about it, but he brushes it off. This isn’t anyone else’s business, least of all his employer’s.
Even though Barbatos won’t tell him, Diavolo can clearly tell his friend is off.
In hopes of giving him something to distract himself with, Diavolo requests hellfire mushroom rolled cigar cookies and Barbatos jumps on the opportunity. 
Baking has always been his escape as well as his happy place. Diavolo’s favorite isn’t easy to make, so he looked forward to the task.
And it worked. Keeping track of the ingredients, the steps, and the technique required was enough to occupy his mind.
But then it was time to wait for it to bake. 
He suddenly feels trapped in the suffocating silence of the kitchen.
His mind replays the argument on repeat as he falls down a rabbit hole of what ifs.
He loves you more than anything and the last thing he could ever want is for you to be mad at him.
No, the worst thing would to no longer be able to call you his.
Suddenly, he becomes aware of the sharp scent of burnt food.
He jumps up and runs to the oven. He’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed the timer go off.
He pulls the blackened desert out, puts the cookie sheet on the stove top, and just stares at the burnt cookies.
His sight blurs and a soft sob escapes from the prison he’s created in his heart.
He wasn’t crying because he burnt the cookies, but because they were a visual representation of everything he’s been trying to suppress.
Once he collects himself, he knows he can’t continue like this. 
He doesn’t want to invade your space in case you’re still mad, but he needs a resolution.
He’ll send a quick text and silently begs you to respond. 
“MC, I understand if you are still upset with me, but would you be willing to talk though it? I look forward to hearing from you.”
If you still sleep with him that night, it is a great weight off of his shoulders. 
He hopes it means that it will be easier to make up with you and that you aren’t too mad.
When you wake up, he will be watching you like he has all night with a small, tired smile. 
He’ll put on your favorite tea as you get ready for the day then asks if you’d be willing to talk things over.
Because of how it affects both his job and himself, a fight with Barbados will not last long. He’ll seek a resolution by one, maybe two days tops.
Solomon: 
Lucifer may be the avatar of pride, but Solomon can certainly give the demon a run for his money.
In the moment of a particularly heated argument, he absolutely will not admit he’s wrong. 
In fact, he really doesn’t consider it a possibility.
There’s no point in trying to get him to see your side until things have calmed down. It’s like talking to a brick wall.
He won’t yell, but he gets a pissy, condescending tone and almost talks down to you.
If you really push his buttons, his patience with this “useless” argument runs out.
“Oh please, listen to yourself! You’re acting like a dull child!”
Freezes as soon as it leaves his mouth.
He didn’t mean to say that.
He opens his mouth to apologize immediately, but upon seeing your hurt reaction he becomes flustered and can’t get the words out.
He’ll simply turn and leave. 
He’s absolutely furious with himself. 
Solomon is old and wise. He’s seen many things, been many places, and he knows many things.
Sometimes though, he needs a reminder that he doesn’t know everything.
Even if he still feels he was right, he knows name-calling is unacceptable.
In fact, he doesn’t miss the irony that he was the one being childish. 
His self-fury is replaced by overwhelming worry if you sleep in another room that night.
Of all the treasures he’s come across, none were as precious as you. 
He can’t stand the thought of losing you because of his thoughtlessness.
For once, he feels like an idiot.
He locks himself in his study that night and brainstorms on how to make it up to you.
He decides to approach you in the morning at RAD. He’s terrified that you think he actually meant the insult and wants to clear the air as soon as possible.
He’s afraid of you taking anything less than his highest praise to heart or for you to think that he views you as below himself. 
The thought of how he must have made you feel makes him sick to his stomach.
The more he thinks about it, the more his body demands that he act. 
While he has many virtues, patience is not high on his list. 
Assuming you returned to The House of Lamentation that night, he’ll text Asmo to explain what happened and asks if he’d let him in first thing in the morning.
Thus, when you leave to head for breakfast, be careful not to trip over your sorcerer who’s seated against the wall outside of your room.
He scrambles to his feet, his hair and clothes a mess and bags heavy under his eyes.
“MC! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I just- *sighs* I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. Would you be willing to discuss the matter again? The right way this time.”
If you do sleep with him, he’s at least relieved that you don’t seem like you plan to leave him.
Once again, however, he wants to clear the air as soon as he can.
You’ll both be sitting in silence as you get ready for bed. He’s clearly lost in thought, his eyes focused unblinking on his feet and any movements slow and disjointed.
He's not sure how to apologize, if it's too soon, and is afraid to make things worse if it's not an appropriate time.
However, seeing you move about the room he decides to risk it so he doesn't risk losing you.
Suddenly, he stands up straight and locks eyes with you.
“MC, we don’t have to talk about the fight tonight, but I need you to know that I didn’t mean what I said. I’m sorry.”
It’s up to you if you want to forgive him immediately, but he will at least apologize for the insult as soon as he gathers his thoughts.
Simeon:
If you yell at him, Simeon is just gonna sit there stunned
Your relationship is usually as laid back as he is, so he doesn't know what to do with you blowing up at him.
All he knows it that this is bad and he needs to find a way to make you happy again. 
The thought of losing you takes precedence over everything and, though he will not sway to your side just because you’re upset, the argument loses any worth it had to him.
He’ll go to Solomon almost immediately in hopes your fellow human might know better about how arguments are resolved between human couples.
He becomes very distressed when Solomon says everyone handles it differently. He then asks what he should to make up with you specifically.
He doesn't have a defined emotion right now, he's just on edge. He wants to gather information first and foremost so he can figure out what to do from there.
He’s just a walking ball of anxiety and those close to the angel even become concerned. No one has seen him like this before.
If you decide to sleep in another room, the anxiety just takes over. 
His chest feels like fiery chains are crushing his ribs, he can hear his heart is hammering in his head, and his body begins to shake as if he were buried in an avalanche.
He doesn’t realize he’s crying as he struggles to breathe.
Solomon had expected something like this may happen so he made sure to be nearby to help coach him though it.
Once he’s calmed down, Solomon urges him to talk to you as soon as possible.
Simeon isn't sure though. True, he wasn't in a good place, but he didn't want to push you if you weren't ready to talk.
He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t feel like he can think let alone coherently tell you how he feels.
He begins to feel overwhelmed again and decides to try writing down his thoughts in hopes of it helping him sort through the tsunami of emotions consuming him.
While it doesn't completely calm him down, it does help.
He stares down at the messy, tear blotted papee and has an idea.
The next morning you should expect to find a hand-written letter slipped under you door.
The letter is long and and rambling. His usually pristine handwriting is as shaky as his hands were when writing it.
It's not as dense and heartbroken as his original one, but the further it goes the more desperate his words become.
He writes about how much you mean to him and apologizes for allowing things to get that intense. He writes that he loves you and doesn’t want to lose you. 
He reminisces about his favorite memories of you two together more than once.
Finally, that no disagreement you two could ever have is more importantly to him than being with you.
It's really just a collection of everything sitting on his heart at the moment.
That day at RAD he’ll watch you from the sidelines and pray you approach him about the letter so you two can work things out.
If you still sleep in his bed, he’ll be very conflicted about if he should approach you yet. 
He’s afraid of making it worse if you’re still mad.
However, Simeon is an open book when it comes to his emotions so you will absolutely be able to tell that he’s freaking out.
So please, save the man a terrible night and talk it though with him.
He wants you to not be angry anymore, but even if you’re still upset just having concrete information to cling to will help him immensely. 
He’s thinking of all the worst case scenarios and needs reassurance that the relationship isn’t over.
Simeon will try to make up within a day, so however long it lasts after that is up to you.
Luke (MC is his best friend):
Luke will be very, very distressed. 
You’re his best friend aside from Simeon. Friends don’t fight like this, right?
Wait, so if you’re fighting with him, does that mean you’re not his friend anymore???
As soon as the thought enters his mind, he decides that must be the case. 
Real friends don’t fight with each other like this.
Externally he takes a “I don’t need a lousy human like you for a friend anyway” attitude. 
He’s not just testy with you though, anyone who interacts with him that day learns that chihuahuas bite.
Simeon immediately realizes something isn’t right and is very concerned.
As soon as he asks him what’s wrong, Luke's mask of anger is discarded and he tosses himself in the older angel’s arms crying hysterically.
He doesn’t want to lose you for a friend.
I doubt Luke has ever truly argued with someone so this uncharted territory is earth shattering to him.
Simeon, as he tries to calm Luke, he will text you and ask you to come to wherever they are immediately.
Because of Simeon’s intervention, the fight will only go undiscussed for a few hours max.
Again, sorry if I don’t know these characters as well as I’d like yet. Thank you for reading! 
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The Genshin self aware au characters receiving compliments
Zhongli works hard every day and night to take care of you, to ensure your health and safety and happiness. He has heard your thanks multiple times by now and he still feels his chest warm and his mind haze whenever you do it. This however, is a bit different. It’s the first time you complimented him, out of the blue and without prompt, he had just stopped talking as you hummed and smiled at him. He could already feel his mind clouding and then- “You have quite the nice voice, you know?”. He froze for a moment as he registered your words before thanking you, almost stumbling over his words as he promised to talk as much as you’d like. Otherwise you will barely notice, but your words keep replaying in his head for the rest of the day, pride and warmth seeping into every part of his body as he recalls your gaze and the way your lips moved and how relaxed you looked and - basically, he’ll have that moment memorised, engraved in his mind forever.
Beidou was sitting across from you, a beer in one hand while desticulating with the other as she described one of her many adventures on board of her ship. She loved the attention you were giving her, you leaning forward and attentively listening was giving her a rush of energy. It was always like that, your presence alone energising her beyond belief. The captain had just finished depicting how she had defeated the monsters, allowing her crew to finally keep on sailing and took a gulp of her beverage as she heard you mumble: “You truly are selfless”. Almost chocking in surprise she quickly set her drink down, laughing loudly as she felt flustered at your sudden compliment. “Well, that’s just the kind of responsibility a captain carries”. Even though she herself saw it as natural, she couldn’t deny how good your acknowledgement felt and how light her heart seemed. She also couldn’t deny the surge of protectiveness that almost flooded her system, telling her to destroy any threat to your existence, to swing her weapon down on anyone who believed they could try to harm you. Beidou will keep the conversation going but you can’t help but notice her red ears and how refreshed she seemed, all weariness seemingly having been lifted.   
Sucrose was fidgeting beside you, nervously glancing at you, trying to gauge your reaction as you read through the file you had requested. She was so excited, you, her god, were interested in her research! Oh how lucky she was to have you. At the same time the alchemist feared your response, she didn’t know what she would do if you ended up disliking it, or maybe she rambled too much or- your eyes lifted to meet hers and she froze, all attention on you. “This is really interesting, I can see that you put a lot of work into this”, a small smile grazed your lips. Sucrose flushed and stuttered, managing a thank you and maybe, but just maybe and if you want to, she could go more in depth or do you have any questions or opinions you want to share or are you interested in anything else? Even after she has left the teapot after your conversation, all the way to her home and even in bed she’ll keep on replaying your response in her head over and over with a shy grin decorating her face. Sucrose vows to herself that she will work even harder if it means that you’ll compliment her again. 
Ganyu is barely able to reply, her cheeks flushing as she fumbles with her fingers and finally a small “thank you” leaves her lips. It feels as if she was dunked in sunshine, warming every part of her body and fresh air cooling her hot skin all the same. She’ll take her leave after you’ve granted her permission but this interaction is far from over, at least for her. “I admire your hard work, Ganyu”. The words keep repeating in her head and she can’t help but grow weak at the way her name sounded and how genuine you looked. If you admire her hard work, then surely you’ll compliment her again if she works even harder, right? She has heard that you sometimes, on rare occasions, give head pats or even hugs for exceptionally good results or efforts and she can’t help but fantasize about your touch, your hand brushing back her hair or your arms engulfing her form. The adepti wants to achieve that at least once and surely your compliment meant that she was on a good way to her goal. The next days and even weeks Zhongli’s shrine for you will be filled to the brim with offerings from Ganyu, each day something new accompanied with some qingxin flowers in hopes of repaying you and hopefully, and she knows she shouldn’t dare, but hopefully gaining even more of your praise.
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