Has anyone else wondered if the reason Allen is directionally challenged is because he should be wearing glasses like Past!Allen?
He can’t see for shit and somehow it’s slipped his knowledge that glasses are correctional tools for the eyes and thinks they’re just fashion statements of dignity or something.
And like his arm when it was paralyzed, he just got use to living with everything a giant blur. Timcanpy is always easy to keep track of, being such a bright gold. Cross’ red hair was always a beacon and Lavi’s too. Link’s blond is bright enough and the man’s usually in arm’s reach anyways.
Requested by the lovely @moonmoon-theshipper who asked for a song fic (The song is Two Birds by Regina Spektor). Enjoy!!
Two birds on a wire
Explosions were heard all around them. The blast of guns being fired just added to the chaos. In the midst of all this destruction was the Red and Blue Lion.
One tries to fly away and the other watches him close from that wire
“Lance, come on! You can do it, just a little more!” Keith’s voice broke. The Blue Lion had gotten trapped under the fallen debris of the fight, jamming all the exits. And Lance was trapped inside.
He says he wants to as well but he is a liar
Lance took a few deep breaths. The pain was unbearable. Blood was all around him. He knew it was bad. “It’s okay, Keith! I’ll be right behind you! You just go ahead, and I’ll be right behind you!” The strain in his voice was easily heard, and Keith saw right through his lies.
I’ll believe it all, there’s nothing I won’t understand, I’ll believe it all I won’t let go of your hand
“I’m not leaving you! Not now, not ever!” Keith vision began to blur as tear filled his eyes and his breath hitches. “Me and you, we’re a team! I’m not giving up on you!”
Two birds on a wire, one says come on
“You can do it Lance! Don’t give up! Don’t you quit on me, damn it!!”
And the other says I’m tired the sky is overcast and I’m sorry
The sky was now filled with thick gray smoke, almost blocking the sky. Lance let out a shaky breath. Tears had already began to fall along with the blood that trickled down his face. His head was growing fuzzy, his vision starting to fade black. “I-I’m sorry, Keith. I can’t. It’s useless now.”
One more or one less, nobody’s worried
Lance released a weak, wet chuckle. “ Don’t worry about me. You guys deserve a better Blue Paladin anyways. You deserve better. You deserve so much more than me.”
I’ll believe it all, there’s nothing I won’t understand, I’ll believe it all I won’t let go of your hand
Keith couldn’t hold back the tears. His voice was wrecked from all the screaming. “Lance, no!! Don’t say that, the team doesn’t want anybody else! I don’t want anybody else! YOU deserve someone better! You deserve the whole damn universe!”
Keith chocked on a sob.
“Lance, don’t leave me! PLEASE!!”
Two birds of a feather say that they’re always gonna stay together, but one’s never goin’ to let go of that wire
The tears fell faster from Keith’s face. They were running out of time. The explosions and bullets were coming closer. “Lance, you promised me forever! That you’ll stay with me forever! I’m keeping you to that promise, you hear me! You can’t leave me!!”
He says that he will, but he’s just a liar
“And I will be.” Lance croaked. He knew that his own time was coming to an end. He couldn’t see anymore, though the tears kept falling. His hearing was slowly fading. “I’ll always be with you. Forever and ever.”
Two birds on a wire one tries to fly away, and the other watches him close from that wire
“Lance, you’ll be okay! Everything will be okay! You just have to get up and come with me, alright?! We’re gonna get out of this! Together!!” Keith was growing hysterical, chocking on sobs and coughing with every breath.
He says he wants to as well, but he is a liar
Lance smiles gently, tears continuing to silently stream down his face. “Okay Keith. I’m coming. I’m right behind you.” Lance suddenly feels warm, pain finally vanishing. Everything becomes silent.
Two birds on a wire one tries to fly away, and the other…
since I was talking about languages headcanons, let me share an actual fav of mine: Yuuri actually started studying Russian when he first fell in love with Viktor (’s skating).
A starry eyed little Yuuri, glued to the small bulky television in the living room of the onsen, watching the recording of a young Viktor’s Junior World Championship in Bulgaria, his ponytail whipping around as he twirls and cuts the air in a perfectly executed jump; there’s nothing more Yuuri wants than to be like him, to know what this person made of starlight looks like inside. How can this beautiful angelic boy do what he does, how is it even possible to glide so effortlessly on the unforgiving ice when all Yuuri can do is fall and cry and bruise?
So he starts info dumping, collecting scraps of rare skating magazines, reading article upon article about him and interviews; but then again, there’s only a certain number of them that’s in Japanese, a little more in English, of which Yuuri’s knowledge is still wonky at best. Most of them are in Russian, because you know, Viktor is Russia’s prodigy, so of course. It’s not easy to find them.
Their dial up connection cable whirrs ominously and sucks money and energy, but he doesn’t desist, finds some approximation of a skating fan site with grainy images and pages and pages of minuscule writing, so much it makes his head hurt. Even then, he doesn’t give up. Yuuri is twelve, and stubborn, so he goes to the library and brings home a dictionary, sits down in front of their outdated computer and squints at the screen, flips through the yellowed pages and reads, painstakingly, his vision going fuzzy in between kanji and cyrillic. It’s not the best, but it’s all worth it when one day he realizes he actually can recognize some of the words without even cracking open the ratty dictionary.
When Yuuri is eighteen, he places his heart and dreams in Detroit. He slices himself open and drips red on the pavement of the rink, strips his feet raw and never stops thinking about the force that drives him, locks a wish too big to be contained into the small space between lungs and ribcage. He signs up for a Russian Language course.
When asked, he tells Viktor he had to choose an extra class to take in college. He doesn’t tell him about the little kid hunched over a shitty dictionary at two am begging to know more about his idol (he’ll tell him, a whispered confession in the middle of the night, but now it’s too much, too early). He doesn’t tell him that he knows exactly what he’s doing when he brings a tub of ice cream home and Viktor beams delightedly, exclaims “that’s my favourite!” Yuuri smiles, replies he had a hunch it would be. The old article is clear in his mind, a stolen piece of memory of a Katsuki Yuuri that wanted nothing more than to know exactly what Viktor Nikiforov’s favourite ice cream flavor would be, not knowing there’d be a time where it would become as simple as asking. Viktor laughs, makes grabby hands at it. “I love you,” he sighs wistfully, wrapping his lips around the spoon, and Yuuri flushes, takes a spoonful too, feeling incredulous and warm.
The wish that was trapped inside crawls up his throat and takes off in a huff, no more than a whisper. It has no use now, for it’s fulfilled, at last.
The ice cream tastes better than anything he’s ever had.
Date the vaguely humanoid being of light that wanders around your neighbourhood at 3 am. They make your vision get fuzzy when you go close to them but it’s alright because you trust them to lead you back home.
Can I get some headcanons were the reader goes up to Izuku, Todoroki and Bakugou (separate) and says that she's going to marry them because of something nice/ sweet (or whatever you want them to do) they did? She kinda just announced it like it's a promise, not a suggestion?
OOOOH! IMMA HAVE SOME FUN HERE! Not too much fun tho :P. Anyway enjoy!
*You had dropped your books while rushing to class. Izuku was nice enough to help you pick them up. He actually carried some while walking with you, since you have the same homeroom.
*Half way there, you just announced it.
*”You’re really nice Izuku, you know what? I’m going to marry you some day.”
*He stopped walking.
*His face was so red.
*Realizing you had broken poor midoriya, you took your books from him and went to class.
*All Might finds him still standing there 10 minutes later, and takes him to recovery girl after he continues to stand and stare.
*After he explains what happens, All Might refuses to stop giving him advice on “getting the girl”
*You had simply tripped, and before you fell on your face, Todoroki caught you.
*After that you walked to class in silence, which kind of worried Todoroki. You were never this quiet.
*He let the silence continue for a little while longer before he decided to ask you if you were alright. You were quicker to speak though.
*Hey Todoroki, I’m gonna marry you some day, okay?” you said with a smile before kissing his cheek.
*”See you in class!”
*He had a light blush on his cheek.
*He was smiling all the way to class(But then he got to class and wiped the smile off his face, not wanting to be asked about it, tbh)
*It was during the USJ incident. You had been warped to the same zone as Bakugou. You had been fighting off some villains when your vision became fuzzy, your quirk (whatever you want it to be) took a lot of energy out of you. You were passing out.
*It seemed like you were all out of luck when Bakugou showed up and saved you. You were injured.
*Kirishima offered to continue fighting, while Bakugou carried you to safety.
*He was sort of giving you a piggie back ride, you face burrowed in his neck.
*”Bakugou, someday… let’s get married.” you said just before passing out.
*He was about to start freaking out but when he saw you passed out he sighed.
*”You know what, that seems like a good idea (y/n)” he said to your sleeping form.
Prompt: Could I request an imagine with Carlos from Disneys descendants where he uses one of Mel’s love potions to make you fall for him since you’re from Auradon and he doesn’t think you’ll go for someone like him
Note: Aaaaaaaah that’s really cute. I loooove Carlos and I’ve really been in a Descendants mood since Ways to be Wicked and What’s My Name came out.
Word Count: 742
“I need a favor.” Carlos approached Mal with a fair amount of uncertainty. At this point, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to go through with his ridiculous notion anymore. Sure, he wanted to date you, but using a love potion…he wasn’t so sure. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“With what? Your love life?” Mal didn’t even bother looking up from her book.
“How did you know?”
“Evie told me. All right, who is it? Spill.”
“Ariel and Eric’s kid,” Mal stated in disbelief and looked up at her friend. Carlos smiled sheepishly. “Well, I see why you’re here.”
“She’d never go for a guy like me. I’m just a VK.”
“You’re right. You’re just a VK. A VK that’s about to get the girl.”
Carlos found you sitting at your favorite part of the courtyard: in front of the fountain. You often sat here with your friends, but today you were there alone, watching the water. Carlos cleared his throat, took a breath, and then sat down beside you.
“Oh, hey Carlos!” You turned around to face him. His heart raced. Practicing this in his head and in front of his mirror was entirely different than actually sitting in front of you. He felt like Evie’s mom about to offer Snow White a poisoned apple. And while this wouldn’t send you into a death sleep, it was still magic.
Maybe he shouldn’t go through with this. Mal glared at him from behind a nearby tree. Right. He shouldn’t waste magic either. He had come this far, he may as well go all the way.
“So, Jay and I were baking cookies, and we were wondering if you wanted some?”
“What kind of cookies?”
“Chocolate chip.” He held up the plastic baggie.
“Thanks, Carlos, that’s really sweet of you.” You accepted a cookie and took a bite. It was warm and chewy and the chocolate just about melted in your mouth.
“H-how are they?”
“I think…I think this is the best cookie I’ve ever had.” You couldn’t explain the feeling that washed over you. It was a sort of euphoria. Your vision was fuzzy, your hearing was muffled, and for a few long moments, all you could think about was Carlos.
When had he gotten so cute? Had he always been this attractive? No, you would have noticed.
Suddenly, your senses returned to you, and Carlos was still there, a mix of concern and guilt strewn across his handsome features.
“What’s wrong Carlos?”
“Are…are you okay?”
“I feel…Great. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good in my entire life. Carlos, have you always been this handsome?”
“Um…yes?” He hesitated, hastily stuffing the rest of the cookies back into his bag. If one bite had done this to you, there was no telling what the rest of them would do. You slipped your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. “So do you want to go see a movie or something?”
“I’d love to.”
The love spell lasted about a week. When you finally woke up from it, your feelings for Carlos had definitely dulled a little. You weren’t obsessed with him anymore. But, you had always harbored a crush on him, he had just been too timid to ask you out because…well, you weren’t sure why. He had relied on magic when he could have done it without the aid.
You approached him at lunch. He was sitting with Jay, Mal, Evie, and Ben.
“Carlos, we need to talk.” You offered a small smile. He nodded, folding up his lunch box before getting up to follow you. Once you were out of sight of the others, you hugged him, taking him by surprise. Hesitantly, his arms wrapped around you.
“What’s this about?”
“I know you spelled me.” When the words came out, you only hugged him tighter. Carlos’ heart raced. This was it. It was over, then. You wouldn’t want him anymore. “But I liked you before the love potion, and I still like you now.”
“You…did. You do.” He paused. “This is news to me. So…you still want to go out, then?”
“Yes, Carlos, I still want to go out with you.” You pulled away to look at him. Even without the love potion filtering your sight, he was still just as handsome as you remembered. Your eyes flicked down to his lips. You wondered if they were as soft as they looked.
I love your writing! Could I request a fic please? Where McCree has a secret fiancé, living somewhere safe and reminding him that he has something to live for? But the remaining Deadlock members find her and kidnap her? And she's terrified when she realizes how much they hate Jesse and how they're willing to do anything to her in order to hurt him.
((A/N - I did this in Blackwatch era if that’s okay! It made more sense as Deadlock was more recent and oh my goodness gracious me I got so carried away with it I love writing McCree as a hero oosh. Might have to upload to AO3!))
“Please be safe.”
“I always am, doll.”
You stood on your toes to be able to press your lips against his. His rough, chapped lips that you were forever telling him to put lip balm on. You saw Jesse out the door, waving to him as set off down the road towards the Overwatch base. You twirled your engagement ring on your finger, a thin gold band that had a set of three diamonds with the middle one being slightly larger.
Jesse had proposed to you last year. You had known him since his days in the Deadlock gang, only because he used to frequent the diner you worked at. On more than one occasion he had bought you a strawberry milkshake or paid for your favourite song to be played on the jukebox. You were always careful though. You never became too close for the fear of doing something wrong which might anger him or the gang. You always accepted his compliments with a smile, and politely refused his requests to go dancing after work. It was only ever him that visited, saying what you had was a little secret, sealed with a wink.
Overwatch had then infiltrated Route 66, tearing apart the gang and luckily giving Jesse another chance at life to do good in the world. Knowing that neither of you were in any more danger, he proposed to you then and there. He constantly complimented you on your accent, your style, your pretty eyes. You had only moved to the little town a couple of years prior. He had of course sweetened you up and you accepted. You were his rock, and he was your charming cowboy.
“Honey, I’m home!” Jesse jokingly sang out as he sauntered through the front door.
You greeted him with a smile and a peck on the cheek. With what Jesse was earning working in the Blackwatch division under Overwatch, there was no need for you to carry on working at the diner. You had your own little ranch on the outskirts of town. You spent your days cleaning, cooking, sewing, ironing, being kept hidden..
“Did you tell them today, sweetie?” You held your hands in front of you, an expectant look on your face.
Jesse’s furrowed brow and sigh told you everything. Your engagement was a secret. A secret from your family, friends, and Overwatch.
You turned away from him, heading back into the kitchen to finish up the stew.
“Darlin’, it’s not fine.”
“So why can’t you tell them? Why can’t I tell them? Why can’t I tell anyone?”
You span on your heels to look at him and crossed your arms. Jesse’s eyes widened at your sudden anger. He understood your frustrations, he really did. It just seemed for however long you two has known each other everything between you had to be a secret.
“There are… Complications.”
Jesse sighed and took his hat off, moving round to sit on the sofa and patting the seat next to him. You precariously followed suit, back stiff and perched on the edge of the seat.
“Yes? What about them?”
“With Overwatch being close by, they’re gettin’ a bit antsy. Since they, well, arrested half o’ their men they didn’t take too kindly to it. Doll, the base isn’t even the direction that I head off to in the morning. I have to do that in case I’m bein’ followed.”
Your shoulders tensed slightly.
“They’re not the nicest o’ gangs and they try to keep tabs on people. Whether they know that I was given’ a second chance.. I don’t know.”
You looked at him. He was staring at the carpet, eyes drawn to a particular out of place thread. He fiddled with the hat in his hands.
“Which is why I have to keep us a secret.” Jesse slowly said.
You nodded, taking the hat from his hands and walking around the sofa to place it on a coathook. You hadn’t realised he was following you until you turned around and bumped into him.
“(Y/N), you are my home. You always have been. If anythin’ were t'happen’ to ya..”
You leant forwards onto his chest, him then covering you with his arms. He of course smelt like cigars, gunpowder and coffee. You were his home, and he was yours.
You pulled back slightly so you could look up into his chocolate eyes, etched with concern.
“I love you, Jesse McCree.”
He broke into a smile and picked you up, twirling you around.
“I love you too, (Y/N).”
The next day went off without a hitch, you said your farewells and began preparing food for dinner.
You frowned. Wiping your hands clean on a teatowel you lightly stepped over to the front door, peering through the peephole. Two young men dressed in black stood cockishly on your porch. You weren’t supposed to have any visitors today. You weren’t supposed to have any visitors, full stop.
You hooked the metal chain onto the door, so when it opened there was only a tiny crack you could see through. Better to be safe than sorry.
“May I help you, at all?”
“Is McCree here?” The one on the right spat.
“Erm, who? I think you may have the wrong ranch.”
Your heart was racing. Jesse had prepared you for this, to feign ignorance if anyone came asking for him.
You blanched. You tried to slam the door closed but one put their foot in the way. You grunted, and ran towards where you kept your shotgun in the cupboard under the stairs. You’d never had to use it before, but being so far out in the open you constantly had wild beasts and trespassers roaming your lands, you had to threaten them somehow.
You aimed it at the door, preparing for the worst when a crack shot through the air and your front windows were shattered. You held your hand up to your face to shelter from the flying glass, a few shards managing to scrape across your palm.
“Don’t come any closer.” You threatened. You inwardly cursed yourself at how weak you sounded. You emphasised by jabbing the shotgun in the direction of the window.
“Why, miss, we don’t want to hurt you.”
The two intruders stepped through the shattered pane, pointing revolvers at you and grinning wolfishly. Your breathing quickened. Your eyes scanned around the room, while slowly stepping back. You needed an exit route, and you needed one now.
“Just tell us where McCree is and we won’t have to put a bullet between your pretty eyes.”
They were stalking towards you, every step you took back they took one forward. The gun in your hands was shaking. You cocked it and aimed at their feet, firing which sent a whirlwind of wood splinters into the air.
This gave you a few mere seconds to sprint out of the living room, into the kitchen and out the back door. You heard cursing from the strangers and then heavy footsteps of them chasing you. You rounded the corner and pressed your back against the warm wooden slats, gun poised to whack the butt into one of their heads as they came round.
They never came round. You were sure they were following you. You frowned, peeking out to see if they were still there. They weren’t.
Treading carefully and aiming your shotgun, you stepped around the corner to look by the back door.
Something cold and hard pressed against the back of your neck. You shuddered out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding. You stared blankly ahead into the desert, dropping the gun on the ground and raising your open hands to shoulder height.
Gravelly footsteps made their way so the one that had originally spoken to you was standing in front of you.
“Wild one, she is.”
“No wonder McCree went for her.” The one behind you sniggered.
You narrowed your eyes at the one in front, who was now pointing his gun at your chest.
“Don’t try anythin’ funny, sweetheart.” He smiled sickly sweet at you, and then nodded at the one behind you.
A rag soaked in something sweet and alcoholic covered your nose and mouth, making you cry out. You scrabbled at the man’s hands by your face, hearing him wince from where you cut him with your nails. He was relentless. Trying to struggle made you breath in more sharply and quickly, which you didn’t realise was helping their cause. Your hands became fuzzy, knees weak and vision blurring.
“Sleep tight.” They chuckled.
Everything went black.
“Why ain’t she pickin’ up..”
Jesse scowled at his burner phone, the number he had been ringing going to voicemail. He wanted to let you know that he was going to be home early today, as he’d managed to get a half day off and he could help you cook dinner as an apology for yesterday.
He scuffed his way through the long grass, the heat forming sweat droplets on the back of his neck.
He frowned. Tyre tracks by the front of your ranch. You weren’t supposed to have visitors. Feeling uneasy, Jesse unholstered his peacekeeper. Before he had made it to the front of the house, he could see that the front window had been smashed in and the door was slightly ajar.
“(Y/N)? You home, doll?”
He peaked in through the window and saw glass everywhere. Two pairs of dusty footprints by window making their way towards- blood? He stepped through the wooden pane on high alert for any signs there’s someone still in the house. It was deathly silent.
Jesse crouched when he made it to the doorway to the kitchen, picking up a shard of glass that definitely had blood on it.
He quickly put his earpiece in and channeled it to the base.
“McCree to Watchpoint 66.”
“McCree. Reyes here.”
“I need your help.”
Your head was pounding. Your palm stung. Your breathing was rattling, as though you were dehydrated. Your neck ached from where it was hanging awkwardly, a stray hair tickling your nose. You tried to reach up to brush it out of the way and scratch your nose. You tensed your arms when you realised you couldn’t, something rough had bound your wrists together behind your back. Your eyes shot open. Your vision was blurry, trying to adjust to the dim lit room. You looked down and realised you had been bound to a wooden chair. Trying to cry out for help, you realised a cloth of some sort was drawn tightly across your mouth. Glancing down, even your ankles were tied together from what you could see with rough hemp rope. You tried to regulate your breathing, air heavily leaving your nose.
Your head shot up when the rickety door swung open, a dark figure standing in the doorway.
“She’s awake.” The voice rumbled, nodding to someone else in the hallway.
The figure stepped over the threshold towards you. You tensed up, drawing in a sharp breath and head held high.
He wore dark leather trousers and a billowing cream top, almost like an old fashioned pirate. He grabbed your jaw with his calloused hand, forcing you to look up towards his shadowed face.
“So you’re the one that Jesse McCree has fallen for. A pretty lil’ thing, huh.”
He had the same southern accent as Jesse, albeit more menacing. He turned your head to the side, losing eye contact. Only spending a minute with this savage and he’s already made you feel like a piece of meat up for inspection. He leaned in close, lips hesitating over your ear.
“Do ya love him, sweetpea?”
You shut your eyes, tears squeezing out the corners and you drew in a shuddering breath.
You nodded your head, him only being satisfied when he let his grip go off your face and moved back. You bowed your head, wondering how you got into this situation. Wondering what Jesse’s reaction would be when he saw how ransacked your house was. Wondering about Jesse.
“Don’t cry. I di'n’t mean to make ya cry.”
He gently wiped away a streaming tear, his touch as soft as a lover’s. You glanced at his tan hand that was so close to your cheek. He took his hand back and thwack. His right hand struck your cheek, snapping your head to the right and hair falling over your face. The pain brought a fresh batch of waterworks, sobs choking in your throat.
A dark chuckle escaped from your captor. He pulled up another wooden chair from the darkness and sat down.
“D'ya know how long we’ve been lookin’ for that mutt?”
You shook your head, learning quickly it’s better to play along.
“Too long. After that darned Overwatch took half o’ my men we wanted to fight. Obviously we didn’t have enough manpower. When we learnt that ingrate was alive and workin’ for them? Hoo, that’s a whole ‘nother story.”
He leant back in the chair, his right ankle coming up to rest on his left knee.
“I had my men follow him. That Overwatch weren’t pretty smart to keep an ex-Deadlock member livin’ on Route 66 were they? He tried to be clever. Sent them on a fox hunt, he did. Until one day we finally caught him going back to ya nice lil’ ranch out back. Seein’ you greet him at the door warmed my heart, I must say.”
Your eyes widened.
“He had a lil’ missy and he was keepin’ her secret from the world. Well, I wonder why that is? That Jesse McCree had snagged himself somethin’ real nice and didn’t wanna share her. We thought we could do him the favor. We could let him know how much he hurt us, at the same time hurtin’ him.”
You frowned at this. They wanted to hurt him? By hurting you?
The stranger leant forwards placing a hand on your knee.
“Don’t worry, doll. We only want to let him know how big o’ a mistake he made when he betrayed us.“ He stood up, stalking around to the back of your chair and placed his hands heavily on your shoulders. "You are the key.”
You shuddered under his grasp, your entire body shivering at the thought of what they, or he, were going to do to you.
“Jesse, you need to calm-”
“I am calm.” Jesse seethed.
“Well then get your hand off of my desk.”
Jesse looked down, his nails digging into the wood creating splints on Gabriel’s desk. He grunted, flumping himself into the chair opposite Reyes and hiding his dark eyes behind his hands.
“She’s out there somewhere and we’re sittin’ here doin’ nothin’. She could be hurt or dyin’ or-”
“Don’t. Don’t you dare say it. Jesse, we will find her. I promise.”
You don’t know how long it had been. They would occasionally bring in water and sludge for what they called food. They had to feed you, this being the only time they would ungag you. Your wrists were chafed from being constantly bound, your ankles only released when you needed to relieve yourself. You had lost all energy to fight. It didn’t help that every now and then they would rough you up.
Your head ached, there was dried blood crackling by your nostril and you were sure your ribs were either cracked or majorly bruised. Breathing became a struggle, it was all you could focus on.
They didn’t seem to care about information about Jesse. All Deadlock wanted to do was hurt you. Hurt you so they could hurt him.
The door creaked open, you flinching at the light that shone through the doorway. You were tired and you wanted to give up. It was the man that you had first seen when you were taken.
“Looks like he’s given up lookin’ for ya, doll.” He smirked. “There’s been no word for.. Oh. Four days now.”
You stared blankly at the floor by his feet; you wouldn’t have given him a reaction even if you could. He walked over to you, holding something in his hand that glinted against the light.
“I think it’s time to.. Up the pace. Don’t you think, sweetheart?”
Only then did you look at him properly, studying what he had in his hand. A knife. You tried to shrink into your chair, worried eyes passing between the knife and his shadowed face. A swift strike and the blade was plunged into your thigh, blood seeping out from around the edges. You shut your eyes and let out a muffled cry, pain blinding your vision.
“Good girl. I made sure t'record that one. I’ll send it to ya fiancé and let him know how ya doin’.”
You breathed in deeply through your nose, tears now running freely down your cheeks and you trying to hold back sobs. You’d never known pain like this before.
He pulled the knife from its warm confines to wipe on his trousers, your blood running down onto the floorboards. He twirled the knife in his hands, looking like a predator wondering where he was going to make his next strike. You pleaded with your eyes as much as you could, you couldn’t take much more. You’d fantasized about being back at home, in your bed, with Jesse.
You didn’t know how strong your threshold was for pain but you knew you weren’t going to last long if they started torturing you for the hell of it.
“Com'ere, doll.” He grabbed your throat, leaning in dangerously close.
He passed the blade down the side of your face, making a deep cut down your cheekbone. You could feel blood trickling down, just adding to the list of injuries you had. He tightened his grip around your neck, digging his fingers in which would no doubt leave some lovely purple splotches.
An earthy rumble echoed through the building. Your captor looked at you in concern then span around to face the doorway. He moved around you, behind your chair and pulled your hair so your neck was on show. A loud crash and then suddenly there were three people all in dark clothing looking through the doorway where a rickety door has once stood.
“Long time, no see, McCree.” The man said, now pushing the blade against your bare throat.
“Get your dirty hands off of her, Max.”
You whimpered, struggling in your bounds on the chair. The grip in your hair tightened, making you take a short breath and changing your view so all you could see was the ceiling.
“You ain’t in a position to tell me what to do, Jesse. Unless you want your sweetheart’s blood spewin’ everywhere. Say, how does it feel? To have somethin’ you love taken away from ya?”
“Let her go.” A voice you didn’t recognise said.
“Uh uh. Not until the lil’ rat here understand what Overwatch did to my gang. And how betrayed I felt when I learnt he’d gone off gallavantin’ with ya.”
You could feel the blade dig in deeper, droplets beginning to form. The pain in your leg was excruciating.
“She’s got nothin’ to do with that.”
Your breathing was becoming heavier, the tightness by your throat and the general aches and pains from your leg, ribs, cheek and hair were becoming too much for you. The room became incredibly warm, your hands and feet becoming tingly and limp and eyes drifting shut.
“Looks like she’s already given’ up, Jesse. You’re too late.”
You heard a muffled crack in the air before you let yourself drift off.
You leaned into the touch of someone stroking your hair back from your face. You stirred, eyes shooting open and breathing increasing from what you last remembered.
“(Y/N), it’s okay. You’re safe.”
You quickly scanned the area and all you could see was white. White ceiling, white walls, white bed. Bed. You turned to where the voice came from and there was Jesse. Your Jesse that had come to save you, perched on the edge of the chair waiting anxiously. You leaned back onto the cushy pillows and let out a sigh. You glanced him over. His beard was more scraggly and under his eyes were dark. You held out your hand towards him, him instantly taking it in his grasp and holding you tightly. His thumb rubbed over your engagement ring.
“Jesse..” You croaked.
“Stop. (Y/N), I’m so sorry.” His voice sounded gravelly, broken. “I thought I could protect you.”
You squeezed his hand in reply, trying not to say anything which could damage your throat.
“I should'a been more careful. I should'a done what you said and told them about us. They could’ve protected you more than what I could.”
You frowned at this.
“I did this to ya. I wouldn’t be surprised if you up and left me.” He covered his face with his free hand, rubbing his forehead.
You retreated your hand slightly before slapping him on the wrist.
“Don’t you dare. You rescued me. What’s done is done but we’re here now. Safe.”
He peeked at you through his fingers, brown eyes meeting yours. A small smile formed on his lips before darting around your face and taking in what Deadlock had really done to you. It faded.
“Wounds heal, Jesse.” You reassured, catching on to what he was looking at. “I never doubted for a second you wouldn’t come for me.”
“Could'n'ta done it without Reyes.”
“I’m sure he’s lovely.”
“He’s the one that took me in after Deadlock.”
“Even more so.”
Jesse relaxed a bit, glad to see that you had woken up and hadn’t changed a bit.
“So I’m guessing Overwatch know about us then, huh?”
“I had to.”
“Not under the best circumstances.”
“I wish it could’ve been better.”
You turned your head towards him so you were facing him fully. You grabbed his hand that was still laying on your pristine sheets with both hands, bringing it up to kiss his knuckles. You hesitantly glanced down at your wrists, ropeburn clearly showing.
“I love you, Jesse McCree. Don’t you ever forget or think that anything will come in between that.”
I was prompt to make this after answering at least 10 asks
about this. During my latest ask about it, I found myself really thinking more about
posting it because I was so inspired. I dedicate much of my blog and much of my study as
a psychology student to awareness and advocating for mental health, so I was driven to post
However, I also made this post because I see stuff like this around tumblr and social media: ”Omggggg I dissociated soooo baddddd todayyyyyy I was in school and didn’t payy attention!!!!” ”I zoned outttttt! I am so symptomatic!”
Ok let’s stop.
There’s all these people who read about it on google and tumblr, then run around acting like
they’re “sooooooo symptomaticcc!” and so many people think they have what they read. It’s quite insulting and mocking of the struggle. Some may just need to be more informed.
Dissociation is a general and broad term referring to a lack
of and disconnection from reality. It’s a psychological defense
Dissociation is not to be confused with psychosis/psychotic symptoms,
which is a loss of reality (rather than a lack of reality) in which
symptoms outside of reality occur (hallucinations, delusions, etc).
The concept of dissociation in psychology is very broad and very complex. It is
based on a spectrum– it can be anything from
(Which is “normal” dissociation; not relating to and not caused by a disorder, such as daydreaming and zoning out),
to pathological dissociation as a symptom, to dissociation as a disorder in itself.
So while daydreaming and zoning out is a form of dissociation, there is a difference between
pathological dissociation as a symptom, and dissociation as a disorder in itself.
Compared to symptomatic pathological dissociation, daydreaming, zoning out, among other states, is a
nonpathologicaldissociation. This psychological
response is typically minor and natural. Examples of this include daydreaming and kind of
zoning out in a convo, dissociating while driving for long distances, and zoning out while watching a movie or reading a book.
dissociation can occur for various reasons, whether it’s a psychological defense mechanism to boredom, fatigue, a lack of stimulation, if
someone has a lot on their mind, to disconnect from stress/anxiety, etc.
Now, just because it is common and nonpathological doesn’t mean it can’t be problematic. We can all agree dissociating while driving or when stressed in certain circumstances can be very problematic. There
are still grounding techniques to manage this issue.
as you can see, we all dissociate. Sometimes, every day!
On the other hand, pathological dissociation means it is dissociation relative to and caused by a disorder. This symptomatic dissociation: disrupts one’s life, continues despite
efforts to stop it, is autonomous, intrusive, typically very unsettling and startling, and is more chronic.
dissociation usually occurs in Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and Related Disorders (PTSD) and Borderline
Personality Disorder (BPD).
I want to mention that periods of dissociation may clearly happen more
often in disorders like Major Depressive Disorder and Anxiety Disorders. In those mental illnesses, it’s not on
the criteria, nor is it typically as severe.
is not a main hallmark symptom like it is for PTSD and BPD, in which it is on the main
symptom criteria. Naturally, as stress/anxiety may be a trigger for even nonpathological dissociation, it
would make sense to see that if someone has a disorder that causes
stress, anxiety, and depression, it may occur more often and more severe than it would for someone without those disorders! While it’s not on the criteria or a main severe symptom, that doesn’t mean there’s no struggle and need to handle it and put it under control through grounding and therapeutic techniques and skills.
Symptomatic dissociation in PTSD and BPD is a psychological defense mechanism
that is to a severe extent where it starts to affect multiple areas of one’s life, has various
symptoms attached to it, and occurs typically because of triggers. One can
almost view it as the fight/flight system “freezing” in response to stimuli or an altered state of consciousness.
Dissociation occurs in these disorders to lessen and fend off the emotional
reaction, memory, perception, or occurrence, and defend itself by “blocking it
out” and disconnecting from it. For example, with PTSD, it may be in response to a traumatic trigger or reminder. In BPD, it may occur in response to reactive anger and impulsiveness or a distorted perception.
Due to the nervous system “blocking out,” a series of symptoms occur that cause
one to feel detached, disconnected, and separated from themselves, the things
around them, and reality. Overall symptoms include:
-Fuzzy/foggy and disconnected vision, hearing, and other senses
-Difficulty making out objects (smaller/bigger than what they are, distorted,
-Fatigue or a heavy feeling
-Feeling empty and detached
-Feeling as if one is floating or in a dream
-Feeling as if one is watching themselves from outside their body
-Feeling as if their body does not belong to them
-A deja vu feeling
-May or may not have trouble with memory (complete lapses or difficulty remembering what happened
during the dissociation)
-Freezing (note it’s not to mean completely frozen. It’s referring to limited
movement, a lack of responses, such as someone just standing there not doing
much, sitting there, seemingly daydreaming at times).
It’s NOT just experiencing one or two of some of these symptoms, either. Someone isn’t symptomatic because they’ll feel deja vu at times or moments in which they may experience one or two of those reactions. Additionally, sometimes nonpathological dissociation may also be worse at times than others during times of fatigue or stress, but it doesn’t automatically make it pathological. Psychological reactions like that would be on the verge of nonpathological dissociation because as you can see, there’s a few overlaps, and it’s a spectrum.
Some of this logic also wouldn’t make sense. If someone was only experiencing dizziness or a headache and nothing else, that’s clearly not dissociation. That’s a headache.
I write this because people tend to think they’re symptomatic when they experience some of these responses that can be part of nonpathological dissociation to a certain degree. Pathological dissociation, as mentioned, is disruptive to life, autonomous, typically a trigger, etc.,
Dissociative reactions can be more acute (i.e., dissociating/blocking out in
response to an immediate trigger, distortions, etc.) or more chronic, such as if dissociative feelings
(i.e. disconnected, floating, etc.) remain for periods of time. Notice how some of the symptoms listed there wouldn’t necessarily last as a chronic dissociation– someone wouldn’t chronically “freeze,” for example.
of dissociation that typically occur in chronic instances throughout one’s day, may include:
-Talking in a monotone, quiet, slow, or dull manner
-Talking in a manner that may not make sense or seem disorganized
-Seeming very “off” and short attention span for a period of time
-Doing things and not remembering
-Having brief memory disturbance and lapses throughout their day, etc.
When it comes to dissociation as a separate mental disorder in itself, it
occurs with its own set of symptoms/criteria to a severe extent and unique pattern, rather than a
symptom of another mental disorder. Dissociative disorders are defined by affecting perception, feelings, identity, and awareness.
Very briefly, this would include:
Dissociative Identity Disorder(formerly multiple personality disorder): Typically
caused by severe trauma or sexual abuse, this is when the individual
dissociates as a result of a defense mechanism from the trauma, and there is an alter identity/personality during those dissociative states. Their memory during these states is impaired and
they may or may not be aware of the alters. The presentation of the
alter differs per individual– there may be extreme changes of behavior,
voice, appearance, or name, but it isn’t typically noticeable and may be less obvious and remain hidden, as the point is to protect and preserve the self. The individual has gone through so much severe trauma, that the dissociative states have an alter to take over during these stressful states and other triggers to preserve and protect the self– They switch between
their alter(s) and themselves.
Dissociative Amnesia: Due to trauma and other disasters, the individual acutely loses memory– may forget who they are, where they are, and/or what happened.
Dissociative fugue: Amnesia
of the identity, which includes perception, memory, and personality. As a result, it includes a sudden change in who they are, which then may result in wandering or traveling to places, unplanned, a make-up of a new identity, etc.
Depersonalization/Derealization Disorder: There are two parts of dissociation. Depersonalization (dissociation of the self) and delrealization (dissociation of surroundings). This
is when someone persistently dissociates and is aware it is a feeling and not really occuring,
and it is a condition in itself and not a result of another condition
like BPD and PTSD.
(Eeeyyyy this is pure angst like @alliedoesstuff@cheers-love-tracer-is-bae and @i-am-a-fan was wanting! I hope y'all enjoy and cry over this because while I enjoyed writing it, it was kind of hard to capture their emotions fully. Tell me if I did well and if this is what y'all were wanting):
He can already feel them resurfacing, the emotions that he’s tried so hard to ignore, to bury. He can feel them rising, climbing into his throats and making it hard for him to breathe or think. The fact that the Colonel- no… why does he still make that mistake?- Wilford is currently speaking, rambling about one of his other crazy, ridiculous ideas, further showing that he is completely gone.
That they lost him forever.
He clears his throat, gaining the eyes of all currently in the room. Colone- Wilford pauses, cutting himself off abruptly to stare curiously at him. He knows that Colon- Wilford has not trusted him to the furthest extent, that he doesn’t all remember what happened… that night. He can just tell that Wilford doesn’t know what to fully think of him, glaring or giving him longing side glances.
It hurts him to remember how the four of them used to be.
He pushes those thoughts aside for now, pulling at the sides of his suit to straighten it out. He can already feel his shell cracking, hear how it creaks. He won’t be able to stand or sit much longer. He needs to get out of here.
“As much as I love to listen to you speak, Will,” he began, placing a placating hand on the table before him. He knows how the eccentric man can get sometimes. He needs a calming hand, a soothing voice. So of course he keeps his voice low, trying to help keep Wilford as calm as possible as he informs everyone he needs to leave.
Wilford has always seemed to be most clingy to him. No one else understands why. No one else knows of their past. Their bloody and heart tearing pst that he hates to remember.
He can normally forget everything, only remembering information that is sometimes important in the moment. But sometimes, like now, the memories are crowding his mind. His vessel and shell are weakening, making it harder for him to do this. He clenches the hand still hanging beneath the table, grinding his teeth together. He swallows heavily to keep down a sob from Damien and his shell shaking worsens. It’s on the verge of cracking.
“I must excuse myself,” he informed, nodding his head respectfully. But he can already see the panic, the desperation growing in Wilford’s eyes and his heart cracks. Damien is crying harder, finding it hard to handle this spur of emotion. Selene is seething, pacing. His eye twitches. “But do not worry, Will. We can speak again at a later time.”
That seems to please Wilford because he gives a thumbs up and nods, looking to the Host to speak to next.
He takes his leave quickly, stumbling into his room and barely closing the door before he crashes to his knees.
He claws at his face, both Damien and Selene screaming in frustration and pain now. His vessel, his shell, is cracking, shaking, and he too is trembling. He lets out the scream that had been building up and the world around him turns to static before fully blackening.
“It was all my fault!” He screamed, hands moving down to his neck, clawing and squeezing and trying to remove the pressure from his brain and chest. Damien and Selene had appeared before him, their blue and red colors glowing brightly in the dark void. The two had switched roles; Damien is growling, hands clenching and his hair very much disorderly, messed up and sticking up terribly. Selene is sobbing quietly, once more softly calling out to Mark like she had done so before.
“Of course it wasn’t our fault!” Damien yelled, his voice amplifying as he seethes in his anger, his fiery emotion hitting Dark in a wave. He can feel his vessel aching, burning and he bows his head, letting out a sob of his own. “It was Mark’s! He planned everything, fooled us all and stole my body!”
“But it wasn’t Mark!” Selene cried. They normally agree, go with one another’s words, keep Dark balanced. But on rare days such as this one they argue, yell and scream at one another and throw him into chaos. Dark curls further inwards, the clouds of burning hatred and freezing pain makes his vessel grow weaker. The poor human’s body is hardly strong enough to hold all of them still. It grows weaker every day and he fears if they continue to argue and fight such as this then it will break, wilt away and become nothing.
That he will become nothing.
“Mark was the one that was killed!” Selene continued, turning to face Damien with all of her might, all of the fury she currently holds towards him. Dark looks up to her, his vision fuzzy. “He couldn’t have done what you accuse him of!”
Damien turns to face her in return, a dark look of anger and hatred mixing in his shaded eyes. He’s not mad at Selene, though. No no, he would never be angry with Selene.
He’s pissed at Mark.
“You yourself that anything involving the dead could happen!” Damien yells, taking a warning step towards her. She takes a step back and Damien realizes that she is afraid of him. He clears his throat and steps back, smoothing out the front of his shirt and brushing his hair back down. He speaks much more smoothly now, meeting her eyes with a calmer expression. A wave of relief hits Dark and he sighs in relief. “You know it was his fault, Selene.”
Selene looks down at what would be the ground if they were not in the void, sighing heavily. She looks over to Dark and Damien’s gaze follows, landing at the manifestation that they had created together. He looks up in return, shell and vessel finding great relief as they once more agree. He relaxes in the slightest, wetting his lips precariously.
“How is our friend-” Damien cuts off and his eyes dart away. Just like Dark had been slipping up with Wilford’s new name, Damien must be forgetting the state of who he currently speaks of. A look of guilt flashes across both Damien’s and Selene’s faces. Both still feel terrible what they did to their old friend years ago… “How is the vessel?”
Dark clears his throat and swallows bile which had been rising while they had been fighting and slowly pushes to his feet, knees nearly giving out beneath him. He looks from Selene to Damien and then looks to the floor. “I had been meaning to speak of this… problem-” Damien coughs and Selene glares- “for sometime now. The vessel is growing weak. It will break beneath the amounts of stress you are exerting if you do not cease your fruitless bickering.”
Damien’s eye twitches and he steps forward, grabbing the collar of Dark’s suit. Dark chokes for a moment before drawing in a deep breath.
Selene and Damien have never seemed to enjoy him despite the fact that he is them.
“What do you mean?” Damien demands and his eyes looks Dark’s body up and down, a layer of concern shaded over by his anger and annoyance. “Why did you not warn us of this problem before?”
“Because, I did not have the time. Wilford-”
“The Colonel,” Selene hisses in the background.
“He does not go by-”
“I don’t care what the fuck he calls himself now!” Selene yells, suddenly losing her temper as well now. Dark’s eyes widen and he gasps, their anger tearing at his chest. “He will always be the Colonel! That’s who he is and always will be!”
Damien slowly releases Dark, taking a step back towards her. “I cannot believe this,” he said and his voice is soft once more, more lost and confused. Selene looks over at him in concern, hearing his chance in voice immediately. “I knew that becoming or vessel would have repercussions on them… but Selene…” he looks to her, gets in his eyes, “we’re killing them.”
Selene gasps and her hands fly to her mouth as it drops open. Dark watches as they both try to handle their own grief. “But we were supposed to save them by helping them,” Selene pointed out and Dark can hear the tightness in her voice. Tears are gathering in his own eyes and his vessel aches so terribly. “We were supposed to help them stay alive- not only kill them more slowly and painfully!”
“Maybe…” Damien begins. “Maybe we should-”
But then a hand is rested on Dark’s shoulder. He jolts, void snapping and disappearing from around him and he glances over his shoulder, finds the Host to be knelt behind him, lips drawn down into a frown. “You were slipping again…” the short informed softly and Dark’s eye twitches. How dare he enter his room without his permission! And then he assumes what is happening?! Sure the Host has a good understanding of what happened, but he doesn’t know fully. “You knows it’s not-”
Dark turns and slaps the Host’s hand away, leaping to his feet all in one smooth movement. The Host doesn’t move, only angles his chin upwards. “How dare you presume!” Dark tells and he knows that he’s letting his anger and other negative emotions out on the Host. But he was the first person here and Dark needs to let off some steam. “You have no idea what you speak of!” He can hear both Damien and Selene screaming, his vessel and shell having a hard time containing them once more with another bout of anger. At least they all agree on this in one shape or another. He wipes at his leaking eyes. “Leave me,” he orders despite losing volume and strength in his voice, slowly bending back to his knees. “Just leave. I need to be alone.”
The Host hesitates for a moment but thankfully leaves. Dark is just glad it hadn’t been Wilford to stumble into his room, searching for him-
The Host shuts the door and before anyone else could enter, Dark bends over, forehead pressing against the floor as he weaves his fingers tightly into his hair, finally letting out the sob he’d been holding onto.
The wards in the Underworld are starting to weaken and Alec has to find the reborn Persephone before it’s too late and Valentine gets out. But when at-first-glance-mortal Magnus turns out to be the personification of spring itself who doesn’t know his true powers it gets a little more complicated than just restoring the wards in a flash.
pairing: reader x park jimin themes: smut / pwp warning! → graphic sexual content word count: 1.5k summary: you’re unknowingly cast in the starring role of jimin’s latest sexual fantasy; that he penitently indulges in during his routine late night shower.
( a/n: yes, the rumours are true, i literally wrote an entire piece of pure filth drabble at 2am that is nothing but jimin jacking off in the shower. )
Welcome Home - Josh Washington x Reader (Until Dawn)
There were many things that Josh wish he could have done
differently, that if he had the time to sit down and list them all, it would
take years to finish naming them all. But as he was tugging the scarf that
coved his face despite already wearing a mask, he decided to list some of them.
He would have been a better brother for his sisters. He
would have stayed sober that night that his sisters ran into the forest. He
wouldn’t have stopped taken his meds that sent his mind into a spiral. He
wouldn’t have played the prank that nearly got all his friends, if he could
still call them that. He wouldn’t have restored to eating human meat down in
the mines, because it wasn’t too long later than they found him, but the
wendigo curse was already upon him.
He wasn’t sure what happened in the months after the wendigo
curse took over, all he remembered was being dragged down to the mines by the
monster that used to be his sister, Hannah, the hunger that he felt in the
mines. He wasn’t sure how many days he spent there. The last thing he could
officially remember was finally giving into the hunger that took over his
sister, and then that’s when things got fuzzy. He had visions of seeing the
Cree natives chanting, a pain deep coursing throughout his body that felt like
lava coursing his veins; being locked up in a steel room, flashes of hearing
people calling him a monster.
Then he remembered hearing his mother and father whispering
his name, and that was that. According to his doctors and the Cree natives, he
was free of the wendigo curse, or at least most of it. Josh hard time believing
that because when he looks at his reflection, all he sees is the monster that
his friends called him over and over. The scar on his left cheek running up to
nearly his ear, his eyes were gladly back to normal, but they still had a
slight scar on his right eye. His teeth even though he had them filed down,
they still remained sharp since there was only so much he could file before
they became too painful for him to bear.
Josh was at the local park, wanting to look down a phone,
but at the same time he didn’t.
He felt nervous because of the one person that was going to
meet. (Y/N), the love of his life since before he knew what love was as kids.
You were always there for him, and valued him as a person and not because of
his name and status as son of a famous film director, much like his friend
Chris, but they bond you had with him was different. You hadn’t been part of the prank, because you
weren’t there since you were with your own family that cold dark weekend, but
when you heard the news of his sisters, you were there for him like no other.
You would help him with his nightmares, even if it meant
staying up all night with Josh on the phone or in person. You would hold his
hand as he drove to his therapy sessions. You were his light when the world
around him was dark and grey. But even the brightest of lights couldn’t shine
in the darkest parts of his mind. Despite you being with him through his
troubles, even you weren’t enough to shake him from his thoughts of revenge. He
wanted them to pay, he wanted them to feel the same heart racing, anxiety, fear
that his sisters felt.
So when he invited his so called friends back to Blackwood Mountain,
he said that it would be best if you didn’t go. You had insisted on going,
wanting to be there for him on the anniversary of his sisters’ disappearance,
because you knew that his mood could drastically change from one moment to
another. But he said that it would be better to stay, since you being there
would make them feel odd since you weren’t there when it happened, saying it
was more of a way to mend what happened that night between them.
You sighed and trusted him, leaning up to kiss his lips just
asking him to come back to you, and he promised he would. He really did want to
bring you along but he knew the best way of keeping you safe would be to keep
you as far away from the lodge as possible, because with your kind nature, he
knew that you would be caught up in his prank. But he wasn’t able to keep his
But as he stood under the lamppost, he reached for a small
photograph that he had kept in his pocket since he could remember, even in the
dark of the mines; he knew that he held onto it. He stared down at it, the
photo of you and him. You and him when you visited in the summer at his lodge.
You were caught kissing in the forest, and Beth and Hannah thought that it was
too good of a moment to not capture.
This photo helped him when he was recovering after those few
months after his ritual, since you reminded him of what it meant to be human,
and not like the monster he felt like he still is. Josh felt like he didn’t
deserve you after everything that’s he’s done, but Chris insisted that he met
up with you. In fact it was Chris that called you to meet him.
Josh was scared that at the mere mention of your name, that
you would have nothing to do with him, especially after everything that the
gang would have told you of what he put them through, but to his surprise you
He finally looked down at his phone, only five more minutes
till six, and the time you and Chris arranged, Josh had honestly been here
since five not knowing what else to do with his time, and giving him enough
time to calm his nerves. But so far each minute that past just sent his nerves
on a growing slope. He looked down at the photo, seeing how happy you were as
you kissed him, and thought of the other photos of you that he had kept throughout
your relationship, each of them filled with happiness that was because of him.
frames and albums filled of your pictures from when you were friends in
elementary to when you were dating in your second year of high school, he would
always notice the small details of your face, that if someone were to hand him
a photo of you he could pretty much tell how old you were, that’s how well he
paid attention to detail.
But one thing that never changed was the smile that you
reserved just for him, and right now that’s what worried him. Josh worried that
you would never smile for him again, that instead of giving him the smile he
loves, you would frown in anger and fear, especially once you would see the
changes his face has gone through. He was scared that he wouldn’t your Josh, the man that you would whisper
sweet nothings to as he held you till you both fell asleep, the guy that you
said you would always love, but instead be the Josh the monster, the wendigo,
the sick murder, that the voices in his head chanted over and over when he was
growing a tolerance to his medication.
One more minute…his stomach clenched, he felt nauseous like
he was going to throw up, never had he felt so sick in stomach, not even when
he ate the very thing that made him a wendigo. He looked down at the photo,
hoping it would calm him like it always does, but it didn’t, in fact it made
him feel worse.
It would be his fault
if things turn out bad, it would be his fault if he alone, and it would be his
fault if you walked out of him. His
fault, all of it, his fault. The voice in his head, now becoming voices,
chanting that it was his fault, all of it, he deserved to be alone.
And just like that the voices were silent. Josh didn’t want
to look up, he was afraid that the voice that he heard was just part of his
imagination, like the way he heard it in the mines over and over again but just
teasing him of what he lost and reminding him that you wouldn’t be there to
save him like you normally would.
Josh was paralyzed with doubt.
“Josh, is that you?” hearing the voice closer than before.
Josh knew that he had to look up, the urge to see her
burning deep in his veins. Josh’s green
eyes looked up, seeing there the one person he thought that he would never see
again. The girl that still owns his heart to this day and pretty sure always
will. (h/c) flowed down your shoulders, different then he last saw it but still
beautiful as he remembered, the features of your face that made him want to
shower you kisses as he mapped out your face and body with gentle kisses and
soft touches. But what stood out to him the most were your eyes, a beautiful
shade of (e/c) one that he could get lost him. Green met (e/c) but the moment
that he felt a smile coming through his mask, he saw your eyes begin to water.
His heart was breaking…he had barely even said a word and you
were already crying. He couldn’t handle this, it was too much for him, and he
needed to leave…now! He quickly shoved the picture in his jacket and stood up,
and to walk away, not wanting to hear you say that you were scared of him. He
had only taken two steps when he felt two arms wrap around his torso. He knew
that he could easily break free of your hold, wouldn’t be that hard, but he
couldn’t, in fact he wanted to stay in your arms forever, because to him it was
one of the few hugs he received since he was ‘cured’.
“Please don’t leave me, not again,” did all you could
whisper to him, not want to let him go.
Your words struck a chord in him, you still cared…about him.
He wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure how to respond, his deformities
now bearing all the weight, because he wasn’t the same Josh that left to Blackwood
Mountain nearly a year ago, he was different both physically and mentally.
“(Y/N),” your name rolling off so smoothly from his mouth,
one of the few times he said it without crying, since recovering his humanity.
The hold on Josh tightened the moment he whispered your
name. He pried your hand off, letting him turn to face your tear streaked face.
He looked down at his hands, double checking that they looked normal, like a
human because right now he felt more like a monster compared to you, he placed
his hands on your cheeks. The warm skin beneath his fingers, making this feel
real to him, you were here…with him, you weren’t a figment of his imagination
like in the mines.
You leaned in towards his touch, your reddened lips pressing
a small kiss against his palm, tasting the saltiness of your tears. “You’re
actually here, you’re alive,” you whimpered, “I missed you so much Josh.”
It was funny; those were Josh’s same exact thoughts.
“(Y/N),” at this point he wondered if that was all he could
say, “I’m sorry for everything, all of it, I should’ve…”
“Joshua Washington you have nothing to be sorry for, none of
it was your fault,” your voice coming out a bit harsh, but you needed him to
know that you don’t blame him for anything that happened that night.
“But if it wasn’t because of me, no one would’ve gotten
hurt, not Sam, Chris, Jessica, none of them.
And it was my fault that I ate…” not wanting to continue those last few
“Josh it wasn’t your fault, you had no control over what
happened that night, no one did. and what happened down there in the mines, you
had to do what you needed to survive, I don’t blame you for anything, I’m just
so glad you’re here, you have no idea how much I missed you” leaning in to hug
“If it’s anything like the way I missed you…then I think I
have an idea,” he said wrapping his arms around you.
Your warmth seeped into him and his onto you. This was
something that he missed, the feeling of being cared for. Josh didn’t even know
that he was crying till he felt his vision blur, but he did silently, glad that
despite going to hell and back, you were still the same as always, beautiful
and kind inside and out. But he knew that as much as he wanted to bask in your
light, he didn’t deserve it, none of it at all, it was the only way that he
felt that he could pay for what he’s done, for the monster he considers
himself. Because in his mind monsters and demons don’t get the happy ending,
they don’t fall in love with angels, and especially don’t get to be loved by
But the selfish part of him wanted to keep you, but he
needed to unselfish for once, as he pushed away.
“I’m sorry (Y/N), I can’t do this, I thought I could but I
can’t,” his voice wavering as part of his heart wanted to take it all back.
“Josh, don’t push me away again,” wanting to hug him again,
but his strength keeping you at a distance.
“(Y/N), I’m doing this for your own good, you can’t be with
me, I’m not good for you, I wish I was”, he said feeling his own heart break at
seeing how broken you were becoming, you weren’t meant to have a frown on your
face, your smile was beautiful yet he hated that the reason you weren’t smiling
was because of him, “but I’m not (Y/N), I don’t think I ever was.”
“Josh, I love you, I don’t care what happened in the
mountains, wasn’t your fault, if anything I feel bad that I couldn’t notice
that you were hurting that bad, I’m sorry Josh,” you said wanting to fall into
his arms again.
Salty tears were trailing down your face, making Josh feel guiltier
but he knew that this was the better option, he couldn’t hurt you again and he
knew that if you stayed with him, he could hurt you, since at times he wasn’t
sure that he was fully cured from the wendigo spirit. His heart was clenching,
it was in his instinct to always be there for you, to make you smile, and this
was going against that nature, but he had to follow through…it was the only way
he knew that he could keep you safe…from him.
“I’m a monster (Y/N), they don’t deserve happiness, I don’t
deserve you at all, its best if you leave me,” his jaw clenching underneath his
mask and scarf.
“You don’t know what’s best for me Josh, because if you
did…you would know that you’re what’s best for me. You’re my best friend Josh, and
you’ve been with me through everything, my highs and my lows. You know me best,
you’re patient with me, and you love me. No one else is going to love me like
the way you do Josh,” your hand reaching out for his face, wanting to caress
his cheek like the way you normally did, but he immediately pulled his face
back, almost as if your touch would burn him, making you pull back your hand
with an even more broken heart.
“that’s not true, there are people who will love you more
than I can, and are better for you than me…millions out there that are better
than a monster like me,” his voice becoming a bit deeper as he wanted to keep
himself calm but deep down his heart was breaking as much as yours.
“Stop calling yourself a monster! You are not a monster, and
I don’t want any of them…I want you!” Feeling you come undone with each passing
“Yes I am!” losing his calm slowly, he wished that you would
listen to him, but he knew that it was because you loved him that you didn’t
want to leave.
“No you aren’t!” more tears steaking down your face.
Finally knowing that there was only one way to make you see
the monster that he is, he pulled off his mask and scarf, letting you see his
face the scars that ran up to his cheek, marred skin near his lips, and the
fang like teeth, letting you see what he was trying to make you understand, “I
am a monster, this is what a monster looks like.” He looked down not wanting to
see how you were most likely scared of his appearance, not wanting to see those
rejecting eyes that were sure to come.
He expected you to scream or run, but instead there was a
long silence. He felt like his heart was breaking all over again, were you
scared of him that you couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything but wait till you
left. He wanted to cry, but he would do that when he gets home, he didn’t
deserve to cry in front of you, not when this was what he thought he wanted.
Finally he heard steps, he shut his eyes, and you were
leaving him. He wanted to keep you, but this was for the best. A warm touch
landed on his cheeks, gently ghosting over the scars on his face, almost like a
Your eyes were puffy and red, from crying, but held a look
of wonder on them, as they took in his new appearance. The pads of your fingers
gently applying gentle pressure that made him lean into your touch like how he
always does, making your palm feel his new fang like teeth, he momentarily felt
you tense, but quickly ease into it. His eyes were analyzing you, wanting to
see a fraction of fear but nothing it was just wonder that was laced across
“you’re still beautiful to me,” you whispered your eyes
finally locking with his giving him a smile, which he returned with a small one
of his own, “you’re still not a monster to me,” you finished as you leaned up
to place a gentle kiss against his scarred skin, going in slowly in case he
pulls back but he didn’t.
Your lips against his skin was another thing he missed; but
he didn’t think he would miss it as much as he did right now. It still ensured
him of how much you cared for him, as he relaxed in your kiss, he badly wanted
to kiss you, but didn’t want to startle you. “I still love you Josh, this
doesn’t change anything” you said as you leaned against his shoulder, feeling
your own cheeks burn as being so close to him again, taking him all in scent
since the sweaters that you kept no longer smelled like him, which always
something you loved. “but I understand if you don’t love me anymore, I’ll stay
away if you want me to, just promise me that you won’t call yourself a monster”
you said expecting the worse.
You felt his chest vibrate as a laugh escaped his mouth,
“I’m always going to love you (Y/N), but I’m dangerous, I mean look at me,” he
said with a broken smile.
“Josh do you want to hurt me?” you whispered.
“No, that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do,” he
“Then you aren’t dangerous to me Josh, I told you, this
doesn’t make a difference to me, you’re still the Josh I know, the Josh I love,
my Josh,” you said with a smile.
Something inside him snapped, pulling you into his arms. He finally
let the tears out, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, letting
take in your scent, and just like you…it reminded him of home, a home that he
thought he that he lost a long time ago when he awoke in those mines. Your neck
was becoming wet with his tears, but you were sure that you were making a wet
spot on his shirt was well, with your own tears. You hugged him close, loving
the feel of being in his arms.
Warmth was what Josh felt, like the warmth of coming home
from a snowstorm was what this reminded him of. Everything about you still felt
like home, he couldn’t push you away, not anymore, not when you wanted him, and
when it came to you…he couldn’t deny you anything for too long. And the selfish
part of him craved your attention that you were so willing to give him, maybe
because you really did remind him what it was to be human, a human in love.
“I missed you so much,” he whispered against your neck,
wanting to kiss your neck but was afraid of hurting you. “I thought I would
never see you again.”
“I missed you too.”
There was so much pain that needed to be mended between the
two of you. It was felt, your tears proof of that. You both had unvoiced pain
that you wondered how long it would be till everything was as it used to, so
full of love and admiration, that you wondered if you ever go back to that, but you would still want to try. You pulled
back slightly just too look at his face, really trying to take in his new
“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, almost reminding you of the
first time he kissed you, so shy and nervous.
You nodded, leaning up a bit for him. Josh took in a breath
of air, still amazed that you would still want him, especially like this. His
hand cupped your face, leaning your face up towards him. He looked at your
face, into your eyes wanting to make sure that this was ok. Seeing no hesitance,
he leaned in and closed the space between your lips. He was careful of his
teeth, not wanting to hurt you, but he missed this, missed kissing you all the
time, when he would see you in the morning, or when he would drop you off, or
at night when you stayed the night at his place, reminding him of the home that
you provided for him. He relished the feeling of your lips against his, how
soft they were against the scarred corner of his lips. He wished things were
different, but not at the expense if it would change how he felt right now. You
wanted more, wanting to feel more of Josh after not having him for so long. He
wanted more too, slowly opening up the kiss more, nearly making you moan as you
felt his teeth brush against your bottom lip, which encouraged him to actually
nibble your lips, this time making you moan as your grip on shirt tightened,
which made Josh smirk against your lip.
He was hungry, not for flesh, but for you. He wanted to quench
his thirst of you, but that would have to wait when he felt more control of
himself. He wanted more, feeling his body burn with you, pulling you closer
wanting and needing to feel your love again. Josh broke the kiss, loving the
look on your face, your eyes lulled over with a lust like haze, your lips reddened
from his kiss and bites, the quick breaths that made your chest rise, which
wanted him to mark it all with his bites, especially with how your skin glowed
under the light of the lamp post.
“You have no idea how much I missed you (Y/N),”pressing a
kiss on your forehead
“Welcome home Josh,” you said with a smile as you pulled him
to a hug again.
He still thinks that he’s not completely human, yes the
curse is lifted, but he still didn’t feel like he is fully. But maybe with you,
you could really teach him what it meant to be human, starting with the love
that you would give him, and he would give you. but since that fateful night
when he landed in the mines, almost a year ago…he finally did feel like he was
home, because to him, home was where you were, not his room, not the hospital,
not the lodge, but here with you in his arms, because that’s where his heart
was, in your hands.
Josh was finally home, “it’s good to be home (Y/N)” pulling
you closer under the light of the lamppost, “I promise I won’t leave you
again,” and this time he meant it.
never thought i would write something this long, but couldnt stop writing once i started, and felt that it would be to odd to cut it to two pieces.
I was hoping that I could get a Harry Hook x reader where she is the daughter of Dr. Facilier and he is teaching her to sword fight and they are being really flirty and then she accidentally gets hurt and it gets super fluffy after that
Disclaimer - I do not own any of Descendants’ characters and/or ideas all credit goes to the creator and producers of Disney Descendants
Pairing - Harry Hook x Reader
Summary – While sword fighting, Harry accidentally hurts his lover, the daughter of Dr. Facilier.
Warning(s) - negative thoughts towards oneself, mentions of past injury (accidental and self-inflicted), injury, blood, angst, fluff
new to the town of Derry and don’t have many friends, due to your lack of
hearing. But, one day your neighbor Bill helps you out.
Denbrough x Reader
and bullying are it I believe.
Authors note: So, I know there is nothing in the book or movie that says that Bill can sign, but I love the head cannon that Bill learned sign language to more easily communicate. As usual, I’d love to hear what you guys think, so any and all feedback is appreciated! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
You walked down the street, pulling your rain coat tighter
around you, trying to protect yourself from the relentless storm raging above
you. You had just left the library after spending most of your Saturday
afternoon reading. It was really the only fun thing you could find to do here
in Derry. You and your father had moved here a few months ago, trying to get
away from the city and into a more peaceful area. That’s what your dad told you
at least. You knew the real reason though, your mother had died in a car
accident back in your old home town, and staying there hurt too much. So here
you were, the new girl with no friends.
You huffed and looked down at your rainboots, splashing
their way through the small stream formed on the side of the road. You couldn’t
hear anything though. That was why you spent most of your time in the library,
you were deaf, and reading required nothing but the sense of sight, and the
ability to read of course.
I've been thinking about panicky Keith a lot lately because I love,,,panicked caretaker Keith. So what about a situation where lance is trapped in a place where the oxygen levels (or if you'd prefer, a poisonous gas is filling the room) are quickly draining and Keith can't do anything but talk to lance on the coms and try to break him out? Also congrats on the blog can't wait to see you grow :0
Lance had been trapped in the lift for what seemed like hours now, he wasn’t quite sure how long it had been, delirium taking over from the sheer lack of oxygen filling his lungs.
He had just wanted to go for a relaxing dip in the pool on his day off, as if he could get so lucky.
Sprawled out on the floor of the altean deathtrap gasping for breath, tears began to fill Lance’s eyes.
All the missions he’d gone on, all the injuries he sustained in the fight to protect the universe and this was how he was going to go; choking on his own breath in an elevator while his closest friends continue on with their day, not even noticing his disappearance.
He’d yelled for them. Over and over, nobody answered. The pain of being so disposable mirroring the ache in his heaving chest.
Mind going fuzzy and vision beginning to blur around the edges, Lance was about to let the appealing thought of an endless slumber take over his body when he heard the com crack on above.
“Lance? Lance! Talk to me buddy?”
The tears began to flow hard and fast down Lance’s face now, they did care.
“Hang tight Lance we’re getting you out now just breath for me”
Keith was a nervous wreck.
He’d spent the good part of three hours searching the ship top to bottom until Pidge suggested that maybe Lance was trapped in the lift.
Over the coms Keith tried to keep his cool so as not to scare Lance, but truth be told, he was at breaking point.
“Allura get him out NOW!”
“I’m working on it Keith please just try and relax a bit he’ll be fine”
Everyone seemed so calm about the whole situation which made Keith furious.
“How can you say that?! Just listen to him!” Keith screeched before pressing the button to the com so the entire room could hear Lance’s laboured breathing.
Seeing the distress take hold of his fellow paladin, Shiro moved over and placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder.
“I know you’re worried Keith but you’ve gotta be strong for him, okay?”
Sobs now wracking his already shaking form, Keith waited for the affirmative from Allura before rushing out of the crowded room and into the hallway just as the doors of the lift came whooshing open.
Bending down to the crumpled form on the floor he laced his gloved fingers through the other boys damp hair.
Eyes fluttering open, Lance drew in a shaky breath before launching into a coughing fit. Keith positioned himself behind the trembling boy, rubbing his hand up and down his back in the attempt to comfort him. When the harsh coughs had finally subsided Lance allowed himself to fall back into the warm embrace of Keith’s arms.
“H-heyy” he all but whispered, voice strained from his long since forgotten about screams for help.
Tears began to fill Keith’s eyes once more as he starred down at Lance’s beautiful caramel complexion that had been tinged blue from oxygen deprivation.
Practically launching himself onto the blue paladin Keith began to bawl.
“NEVER scare me like that again do you hear me? I was so worried I thought I thought-”
Keith was cut off.
“It’s okay, I-i’m okay now” Lance reassured.
“Y-yeah?” Keith sniffled.
“Yeah, you saved me, my knight in fluffy pajama bottoms” Lance joked, shooting Keith a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts.
God, he just couldn’t with this boy.
“Yeah. I’ve got you.”
Here it is!
I’m sorry if it’s really bad and really short this is my first fic :o
Thank you so much and again sorry for the poor quality I am here to improve :)
Request: you and Obi are on a mission when you’re seriously injured by Count Dooku. It is left up to Obi-Wan to save your life. Though, as your condition worsens, he begins to lose hope.
Kinda short but I know you guys have been waiting a while for me to post something. Hope you like it !! Love you guys !! 💖❤️💕
“No, (y/n). You cannot just waltz into Dooku’s ship and demand he return the holocron. Are you insane?” Obi-Wan asked you with a scowl. Truth be told, you wanted this mission to be over. Stuck on Dagobah for weeks with someone you loved but couldn’t have? It was torture. So, you were ready to do anything to retrieve the holocron that Dooku had stolen.
“Nope, just tired of being stuck on this planet with nothing to do but study the same trade routes over and over again” you retorted. “It’s overkill, Obi. We might as well just get it over with” you shrugged. Obi-Wan scoffed.
“I truly don’t understand how you could have been taught by Master Windu when you are this….reckless” he replied as he crossed his arms over his chest.
You decided you would just have to wait until Obi-Wan fell asleep before leaving. You could have used his help had he not been so stubborn.
You entered Dooku’s ship and immediately fell under attack. Battle droids shot at your ship as soon as you docked. Thankfully, it was a sturdy ship, so all you had to worry about was not getting yourself shot.
Your lightsaber easily sliced through the battle droids as you deflected the beams of plasma shooting from their blasters. You didn’t need Obi’s help, not when you were just so skilled yourself.
Suddenly, a wave of electricity sparked through you. You cried out in pain and dropped to the durasteel floor. Your lightsaber slid from your hand and skittered across the floor, hitting the toe of a boot. You slowly looked up from the stranger’s boot to their face. It was no stranger at all. It was Dooku.
“Looking for something, Master Jedi?” he smirked, outstretching his hand to show you the holocron. “Did you really think I wouldn’t see you coming?”.
You tried to stand, but you were knocked down by Dooku’s Force push. You were thrown back, hitting your head against a durasteel wall. Your vision became fuzzy and you were sure that you’d pass out at any moment. However, Dooku wasn’t done with you just yet.
Two droids hoisted you up off the ground and held you still as Dooku approached you. He held your lightsaber in his hand and glanced at it with mild curiosity.
“You weren’t planning on killing me and taking the holocron, were you?” he teased. You glared at him and spit in his face. This only angered Dooku further. He outstretched his hand and a burst of lightning instantly emanated from the tips of his fingers to your aching body.
The pain was fierce and overwhelming and you could only remember a faint voice in your head, which sounded strangely like Obi-Wan, begging you to hold on before you blacked out.
Obi-Wan watched you as you lay on your cot back on Dagobah. He’d fought Dooku and escaped with you on your ship. Still no holocron, but he didn’t care about that. All he cared about was making sure you woke up. Which, at the moment, seemed like it would take a miracle for that to happen.
You’d been in a coma for days. Obi-Wan had tried everything he could. He used his Force signature to attempt to transfer some of his strength to you. He meditated with you, trying to communicate with you because he knew you wouldn’t leave him. Not like this.
He loved you so dearly. He swore that his moon eyed Padawan days were over, and then he met you. He hadn’t ever seen you before since your Master was so strict. But, when he did finally meet you, he knew he was in love. He was a Padawan all over again.
“My dearest, please come back to me” he murmured. His hand grabbed your cold and limp one and gave it a squeeze. “If only you’d listened” he frowned. A tear trickled down his cheek and fell from his chin onto your shoulder. You felt it.
You were coming to. Your eyes fought to open and your brain tried to send signals to your limbs to get them to move. You wanted to tell Obi-Wan everything you thought you wouldn’t be able to. You had to tell him because you weren’t sure how much time you had left.
“Obi,” you licked your chapped lips as the words tumbled from your lips. Obi’s eyes widened as he jumped up.
“(Y/n)!” he exclaimed, instantly cupping your face in his hands. “Darling, you’re here..you came back” there was a light in his eyes that you had never seen before.
“I should tell you,” you croaked. Your arm shakily reached up. You brushed your fingertips across his cheekbone as he watched you intently. “I have always loved you. Every day” you were terribly weak, and you sunk back to the bed.
Your eyes grew heavy once more as you heard Republic ships in the distance. They had finally arrived for you.
“Wait, (y/n), please,” Obi-Wan grabbed your shoulders forcefully and pleaded with you to stay awake. He knew if you were to leave him now, it would be forever.
“I love you, I love you” you whispered to him softly. Had he been just a few inches farther away, he wouldn’t have heard it.
“I love you, Obi. I’m so sorry” and with that, your eyes closed once more.
You were inside a capsule, floating. Something had been fastened around your face. Everything was blurry. There were lights and, as you stared closer, people.
The bacta with which you were floating in immediately began to drain. As soon as your head was exposed to the oxygen, you ripped the mask off of you.
The people. You knew them. Your old Master, Master Yoda, Anakin, and of course, Obi-Wan.
You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread over your lips as your family crowded the tank, glad that you recovered from your encounter.
Though, at the moment, you only cared about one person. Obi-Wan rested his palm against the glass as he beamed at you. There was something different about him, but you couldn’t figure it out. So, you pressed your own palm against his. The layer of glass was the only thing separating the two of you.
Slowly, the Masters left the room as you were removed from your tank and able to walk again. Obi-Wan stayed behind, telling Master Yoda that he would keep an eye on you.
“Well, Master (l/n), you’ve made a full recovery. I do suggest you rest for the next few days, though” the healer told you. “And try not to get yourself killed next time” she teased. You laughed along, thanking the healer for all of her help.
“I never got to tell you, you know” Obi-Wan murmured after the healer left the room. You turned to him as knots began to tie in your stomach.
“Tell me what?” you asked Obi-Wan skeptically. “I told you so?” you questioned with an eye roll.
“That,” Obi chuckled as he stepped toward you confidently. “And there was something else” he came to stand directly in front of you. His hand reached up to stroke your cheek as he gazed lovingly into your eyes.
“And what might that be?” you asked him with a knowing smile. Obi leaned forward slowly and pressed his soft lips to yours. You rested your hands against his chest as he pulled you closer to him by your waist.
The kiss was all you’d expected. Passionate, slow, sensual, loving. It was so Obi-Wan. You couldn’t help the smile that claimed your lips after Obi-Wan pulled away.
“I meant to tell you that I love you too” he whispered. You rested your forehead against his and grinned up at him.