#Apart from the fact that I can’t write stuff like this I mean...

[avirael]

Stuck on Repeat

He wanted to scream.

To scream and to cry and to be anywhere but here. But the best A’viloh could do was try not to tremble and instead follow Rael‘s example, who - despite the fact of being shackled and pushed around - still maintained a certain stubborn grace. He wished he knew how they did that.

What exactly was going on? A‘viloh wasn’t sure of that yet and it would take a while for him to process all of this. Everything had happened so fast. Suddenly the sultana had gasped for air, her goblet falling to the ground along with herself, soaking the expensive carpet with its dark red content. While A‘viloh had only stared in shock, Rael had immediately jumped up and was by Nanamo‘s side only split seconds after she collapsed. The next moment there had been guards everywhere and also that mean Lalafell accusing them of regicide. They had barely been able to say anything before the guards had grabbed them both, checked them for weapons and tied up their hands.

Now, as the door in front of them opened, the soldier behind A‘viloh gave him a rough push. The miqo‘te winced and stumbled forward into the room filled with people, all eyes on him. He lost his balance and with his hands tied behind his back, he landed rather ungracefully on the hard, cold stone tiles. His head started to spin, his vision began to blur, his heart was racing. It was all just too much and also too late to stop the memories that had buried their ugly dark claws deep in his mind. Miserably he gasped for air.

Rael hadn’t fallen but still knelt down and leaned towards him, wanting to make sure he was alright. „A‘vi! Please stay calm. I’m trying to find a way to get us out of this…“, the viera managed to whisper before someone pulled them away.

A’viloh still struggled to sit up and at the same time tried desperately to see where Rael had gone, when someone grabbed one of his arms and a handful of his hair and yanked him into a kneeling position. He pressed his eyes shut and tried to breathe, tried to not let the fear and the memories overwhelm him, but a small whimper still made it past his lips. He fought against his own mind, racing and about to shut itself off from all of this.

„Stop it!“, Rael hissed angrily. What else than complain could they do with their hands tied behind their back. The brass blade turned his attention to the viera instead of A’viloh. „Shut up!“, the man growled and struck Rael across the face with the back of his hand. They gasped and when they looked up again a moment later, with a mix of shock and indignation on their face, their lower lip was split and bloody.

Ashamed A’viloh stared to the ground and tried to pretend that this wasn’t his fault while the voices and turmoil around him faded to the background. Instead his mind was filled with questions and fears. Would they be executed? Thrown in jail? What had happened to Nanamo? Would their friends at least get out of this with their lifes, if Rael and him were made responsible?

Suddenly something touched his shoulder and pulled him out of his thoughts. A’viloh gave an alarmed shriek.

„Shhh!“, Rael shushed him, leaning their shoulder against his. Worried they glanced at him. „You were gone for a moment weren’t you?“ A’viloh didn’t answer but that wasn’t necessary. Rael sighed deeply. „Give me your hands. Maybe I can loosen the knots…“

Working behind their backs Rael tried their best but it was impossible. The angle was bad, they didn’t see what they were doing and the knots were simply too tight. On their own the two of them would never make it out of their ties. “Seven hells!”, Rael cursed. “I would sooner chew through these things than get that knot open!”

It was a funny imagination and under different circumstances A’viloh would maybe have laughed about it. Instead he turned to look at them and offered a sad smile. “It’s alright. At least you tried…I’m sorry about your lip.”

The viera looked surprised and then shook their head. “Don’t worry. I can fix that.”

Suddenly the turmoil around them got even worse. A’viloh only now noticed the screams and the fighting. “What’s happening?”

“Raubahn killed Adeledji. Tried to kill Lolorito too. Panic broke out and now he is fighting Ilberd. But I honestly don't think he has a chance...”

As if to confirm this, one of the giant stone pillars exploded under a heavy misaimed hit and through the cloud of dust and rubble Raubahn was hurled through the air and landed right beside them. With a swift movement of his blade he cut their ties and only then as he stood up, rubbing his wrists, A’viloh noticed that the Flame General was missing an arm.

But there was no time to question how that had happened and what else he might have missed while dissociating. Confidently as ever Raubahn spoke up saying that he never doubted them or the Scions and that they should flee. A’viloh was still to dazed to argue against that and so let Rael pull him along, to Minfilia and the others and then out of the palace.

As they hurried down the stairs of the Royal Promenade Thancred ran towards them and with a sudden peng of guilt A’viloh realised that he had been so shaken until now that he hadn’t even noticed yet that the Hyur hadn’t been with them. Thancred warned them that Lolorito’s soldiers had already taken control of all important points in the city and that it would be impossible to just walk out through the city gates. Luckily he offered another plan. Rumours about very old secret passages leading out of the city and luckily he knew how to get there.

But just as they wanted to leave the heavy steps and yells of the brass blades got closer.

“Go ahead! I’ll handle this!”, Yda exclaimed and turned towards the soldiers.

Papalymo made an incredulous face. “By yourself?! …I suppose I shall just have to join you.”

Rael offered to help them too. Papalymo and the viera could cause quite the destruction together that was certain but the thought of leaving any of them behind made A’viloh sick. There had to be a different way. One were all of them got out of here together.

“Don’t!”, he croaked and hated how his voice sounded a lot quieter and squeakier than he had intended. Had anybody heard him at all? But before he could say anything else or before Rael could join Yda and Papalymo, the Lalafell shot a fireball at the mechanism that held the palace gate open and with a roaring sound it crashed down and cut of the path between the two of them and the rest of the group. It would give them some time but neither Minfilia nor A’viloh seemed to be willing to leave without their friends. Helplessly and pleading the Miqo’te reached through the bars with one arm and stretched out a hand towards his friends. A’viloh and Yda had quickly befriended each other after meeting for the first time. They had spent a lot of time training together and Yda had soon become one of his dearest friends among the Scions. The thought that something could happen to her was unbearable for him. “Yda! Please!”

But the girl laughed at him and locked her fingers with his for a second. “Don’t worry, A’vi! We’ll see you later!” Confidently she smiled at him before she let go of his hand and turned back around to face the soldiers that had almost caught up to them.

The others called out for them and reluctantly Minfilia and A’viloh followed. There was nothing else they could do now apart from making Yda’ and Papalymo’s efforts worth it and get out of here before more soldiers appeared.

In a haste they ran through the decorated corridors of the palace district and luckily the entrance to the secret passage was exactly were Thancred had suspected it to be. The tunnels were bigger and more complex than A’viloh would have thought and for quite a while they ran through dusty old corridors trying to find the right way that would lead them out of the city.

After a while the echoes of yells and footsteps appeared again and unlike them their pusuers seemed to know the ways down here. They tried to hurry but in no time the voices were coming closer and closer.

“I will stop them.”, Y’shtola exclaimed and abruptly stood still, making everyone else pause for a moment as well. “You go on ahead!”

“No…”, A’viloh protested, he wasn’t willing to leave any more people behind. But Thancred nodded. “Then I will stay too! It would be rude to let you fight alone…”

“No! This is all wrong!”, A’vi repeated a little more loudly. “Let me and Rael fight them, we can defeat them surely.”

Y’shtola shook her head. “Not that many of them…” and Thancred agreed, “The two of you are far too important to get captured...” He didnt say or worse but it was clearly there.

“But…” A’viloh wanted to protest but what was there to say? So he just helplessly stared from one of them to the other. Instead Rael nodded. “Alright!”

“No! Nothing’s alright!”, A’viloh exclaimed pleadingly. „There has to be another way!“

“No, there isn’t.” Thancred said and put his hands on A’viloh’s shoulders. „Listen! There is no time. You have to get out of here, do you hear me? And you have to get Minfilia to safety. Look at me A’vi!“

He slightly shook him and despite the closeness between them A’vi did as he was told.

“Can you promise me that? To get yourself and Minfilia to safety?”, the Hyur asked with a serious voice.

Pleadingly A’vi stared at Thancred’s face wondering if it would be the last time he was going to see it. He hadn’t stopped shaking since Ilberd’s soldiers had put him in chains but now it got worse again. Nonetheless he nodded slightly.

“Good.“ Thancred said and nodded too, but hesitated to let go of him.

A strange expression appeared on his face, one A’viloh never had seen on him before. A mixture of doubt and maybe fear? Thancred sighed and muttered “Just in case…“ more to himself than anybody else but A’vi was close enough to hear it anyway.

A’viloh hadn’t expected at al what happened next. Before he even realised it, Thancred had leaned down, closed the gap between them and kissed him. He was too shocked to react, too confused as well, so he just let it happen. Weirdly this made him feel better but also hopelessly sad at the same time. What was he doing here? This was crazy! Maybe he would later curse himself for allowing this or he would wish he hadn’t wasted this moment like this but before he had figured out how to feel or to react the moment was over. Thancred pulled back a little and looked like he already regretted either what he did or simply having to let him go. Or maybe that was just how A'viloh felt himself. “Consider this my lucky charm…“, the hyur whispered, barely audible, and weakly smiled at him.

Then he pushed A’vi away, as gently as the urgency of the situation allowed, and spoke up louder to all of them.

„Now, get out of here!“

„No!“, the Miqo’te whimpered, his hands tried to hold on to Thancred’s arm but he ignored him and looked at Rael instead. „Get them out of here, please. I’m counting on you.“

The viera looked annoyed, more than usually, but nodded without a word and only when A’vi felt their hands at his arms pulling him away, he realised they were all still here watching him. At any other occasion he would have felt horribly embarrassed now but all he could think of right now was that he couldn’t leave all of his friends behind here to fight, and possibly die, while he fled to safety. He didn’t want to run any longer. But Rael seemed to share Thancred’s opinion.

“Come on, A’vi. We can’t waste time now. Every single soldier in this twelves-forsaken city is after us now, we can’t fight our way out of this. There’s no way to set this right if we don’t get out of here first.”, they explained as calmly as they could in this situation, then grabbed A’vi’s hand and dragged him along as they ran. A’viloh followed on stumbling feet but only because his body had long since stopped listening to anything his brain screamed at him. Stop! Go back! Fight!

Rael’s words made sense but still… weakly he tried to look back and see what was happening behind them but then Rael and Minfilia took a turn into another tunnel and he lost sight of Y’shtola and Thancred. For another while he just numbly let the viera pull him along until they abruptly stopped at an intersection.

“There is light! The exit must be right around that corner!”, Rael announced pointing to one of the tunnels.

Minfilia nodded. “I think so too. But I have somewhere else to go. Hydaelyn speaks to me, I have to stay behind but you two, you cannot stay with me.”

Rael shook their head: “We promised to protect you and I don’t plan to break that promise.”

Minfilia smiled kindly.

“I release you from this promise. Instead promise me to flee and clear our names for us! You are the only ones who can do this. I have a different task to fulfil. Please, you must go on! You are the Warriors of Light! You are hope - for the Scions, and for all the realm! As long as your flame continues to burn, the light of the dawn may ever be relit! You must escape, and save Eorzea from those who would plunge it into darkness! This is the only way...”

Rael grimaced but nodded. “Fine…”

A’viloh on the other hand just weakly shook his head. Words had long failed him and with every minute all of this felt more and more like it was happening to someone else and not him. Like all of this couldn’t be real. Like it was a horrible, weird dream that he would wake up from every second now! How had everything escalated so fast?

Minfilia saw his expression and put her arms around him in a tight hug. “Don’t blame yourself for this, A’vi. None of this is your fault. Everything will be alright, I promise.“

Then she ran in the opposite direction and all A’viloh could do was watch her vanish in the maze of tunnels.

After a few seconds Rael took his hand again and A’vi snapped back to attention watching the Viera’s free hand point towards the light. “Let’s go, the exit is right there.”

But A’viloh refused, even if his voice was nothing but a weak whisper. “No, please go alone. I’ll follow Minfilia. Someone has to protect her.”

Rael growled. “Were you listening at all? Do you want all of this to be in vain? I know this is difficult for you, but so it is for me!“

“But-“, A’viloh tried to protest but Rael looked like they almost wanted to hit him and angrily yelled at him. “I want you to be safe too, you know?! I would gladly stay behind and fight if it meant you and the other’s were safe but the best we can do now is run!”

Before A’vi could say anything else a deafening crash sounded through the tunnels. Alarmed they both stared back the way they came. The walls and the floor seemed to tremble and a roaring sound echoed down the tunnel and came closer and closer.

“Oh no!”, Rael gasped. “The ceiling is coming down! We have to get out of here! Now!”

“The ceiling?!”, A’vi shrieked. “But what of the others? We need to — Let go of me!!”, he protested as Rael tried to drag him out of the tunnel.

“It’s too late now, A’vi. Please!”, the viera pleaded but A’vi struggled and screamed. They almost wouldn’t have made it out in time. Just as the cloud of dust and rubble hit the protective barrier Rael had summoned up to shield them they were catapulted backwards by a burst of magic the last few meters out of the ruins and into the late afternoon sun.

Both of them coughed from the dust and it took a moment until they could see anything again. The entrance to the tunnels had collapsed entirely, lots of small and bigger pieces of stones lay in a huge pile in front of what was barely recognisable as the tunnel entrance anymore.

Shocked A’vi stared at the rubble for a few seconds before he began to scream again. Quickly he jumped up and tried to get the stones out of his way, to find a way back in, but of course it was hopeless. The old broken stones were too many and too heavy for him. They wouldn't give in to his pleading. "No! Please, no..."

As calm and soothing as they could Rael took his hands and spoke to him. “A’vi. Not now. There’s nothing we can do now…”

Slowly he let Rael turn him around. He looked at the viera, his eyes filled with tears, before he wordlessly threw his arms around the Rael‘s neck. „I‘m so sorry…“

Rael shook their head. „Not your fault…“

A’viloh didn’t answer to that. Instead he sullenly looked at Rael for a moment before he dared to ask, „Do you think they are dead.“

Rael sighed and then grimaced. „I’m not gonna lie to you, A’vi. I honestly don’t know, but it really doesn’t look good…“

The Miqo’te just nodded weakly, the corner of his mouth twitching for a second. He appreciated the honesty but he had hoped for something a little more reassuring.

Rael carefully squeezed his shoulder. „But maybe they aren’t. We will figure that out, I promise. But first we have to proof that we did NOT kill Nanamo... We should really go now…“

„Thank you. I would be lost without you…“, A’viloh muttered and followed Rael along the railroads leading towards Blackbrush station, defeated and disheartened. Silently he wondered if there was a safe place now for them at all and how they possibly could manage to clear their names…

#ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv writing #ff14 screenshots #ffxiv screenshots #ffxiv gpose #gpose #Aviloh Tia #Rael Hyskaris #good luck if you decide to read all this rambling! 🙈 #I’ve been rewriting this thing over and over for weeks now! #or probably months even... #I was unsure how obviously I can make this a mirror of A’vi’s past without making it seem like he didn’t evolve at all #He’s clearly out of his mind here but if he wasn’t I’m sure there wouldn’t be a way to keep him from fighting alongside the others. #And then there’s the kiss! What was I thinking?! #Apart from the fact that I can’t write stuff like this I mean... #I was so unsure if I wanted it to happen like this but in the end I came to the conclusion that this would probably be very in-character. #It’s not romantic because how would it possibly be? #I imagine this is just another stupid overly dramatic ARR-Thancred thing! #He does this with good intentions but in reality it makes things worse than better... oops! #It is what it is is now! I don't know how to write this bastard and it shows haha... #I don’t even know where I’m going with this. tbh I just hope I can make sense of this along the way 😂 #the pictures have the prettiest outfit I have for A’vi. maybe ther would have been something more fitting but I forgot to look up options🙈 #Imagine Rael braided his hair a little more fancy than here. maybe with flowers or jewels. #just imagine he looks really insanely pretty alright? 🥰 #but he also feels very weak and defenceless here without any armor or weapon to protect himself #please also imagine Rael in these pictures 🙈 #HW will be more about Rael I promise! 😅

[bad268]

hope you’re having a great dayy :)) wondering if you could do one for paul aron in a situation like sleepy back hugs when the other person is busy whipping up breakfast in the kitchen, catching them by surprise smth like that? just fluff cause I rarely see stuff for paul 😢 tysm!!

Morning Surprises (Paul Aron X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 2/3

Requested: Clearly (thank you for being patient and tbh i was 🤏 this close to changing it to Ralf. idk why but I'm on my Ralf arc rn, I'm gonna start writing for Ralf so send it in <3)

Warnings: shirtless Paul (need I say more?)

Pronouns: You/your

W.C. 1101

Summary: Sleepy hugs in the morning. What's not to like?

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(@/Paul's insta from February 23, 2023)

It was too early to function, in your opinion. Half seven in the morning may seem late to people like your race car driver boyfriend, Paul, but to you, it was too damn early to function. Rolling over in bed to hide in Paul’s side, you notice he’s not there. In fact, he had not been there for a while since his side was completely cold.

You groaned as you got out of the warm blankets and found one of Paul’s many sweatshirts lying around before throwing it on. You walk out of your room and are met with a familiar smell, but you can’t tell exactly what it is in your drowsy state.

You walk into the kitchen and see Paul standing over the stove. He was wearing grey sweatpants and no shirt as he was making what looked like a burnt egg. You held your breath as you crept up behind him before snaking your arms around his waist quickly, causing him to quickly look back at you leaning against his back.

“Are you trying to kill me?” You mumbled as you laid your head on his shoulder, already planning to fall back asleep. “That looks burnt. I don’t think Gigi would approve.”

“I tried, okay?” He chuckled as he dumped the burnt eggs into the trash and began a new omelet. Once it started cooking, he took one hand off the skillet (skrittle) to rest it against your arm. “Are you falling asleep again? Or have you died?”

“I mean my heart is still beating. Only for you of course,” You joked halfheartedly, leaning back on his shoulder to look up at him. “I was planning on going back to sleep. You’re just too comfy, but I don’t want to leave you alone and risk burning the apartment down.”

“You’re so cheezy, I love you,” He teased, leaning over to press a small kiss to your forehead. He turned his attention back to the omelet just in time to flip it are the right time, and it landed back in the pan perfectly. 

“You’re so domestic. I love you,” You joked back, pulling away to make you both cups of coffee/tea and set them at the table. “So what’s the plan for today?”

“As far as I know, we have nothing planned,” he replied, dishing up the omelet he made to share with you as he also grabbed some fruits he had cut up earlier before sitting next to you at the table. “We can do whatever you want.”

“That’s a slippery slope, Aron. Don’t give me that much power.”

~~

That night, Paul was pulled into a last minute mandatory call with Toto Wolff and Mercedes about who knows what at this point. You took it upon yourself to make dinner, one of Paul’s favorites. He was pacing around in the living room as you busied yourself in the kitchen.

You were just pulling it out of the oven when he ended the call, and you just set it down when he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up. He spun you around in a few circles, causing you both to laugh before he placed you back on your feet as you turned in his arms.

“I assume it was a good call?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his neck as you both made eye contact. His only response was to pull you close and kiss you hard, leaving no room between you. Despite not wanting to pull away, he pulled back with a huge smile on his lips. “Wow, that good, huh?”

“Guess who has a seat in F2 next season!” He exclaimed, tightening his hold on your waist as he bounced back and forth on his heels, unable to stand still.

“Hmm, let me guess. Dino?” You teased, causing his face to fall in mock offense as he froze entirely. You laughed at his expression before going back on your word, “No. Definitely not. I’m pretty sure it has to be Zak!”

He gaped at your exclamation as he rolled his eyes, “No. You’ve got one last guess.”

“Oh, one last guess? I better guess…” you hesitated in mock joking again to get a raise out of him, “Ralf?”

“Oh, you’re just fucking with me!” He shouted, pulling you in for a bone crushing hug again, swinging you around once again. “It’s me! I’m getting a seat!”

“I couldn’t tell!” You laughed as you tightened your hold on his shoulders. He set you down with a sharp glare as you smiled back at him. “I’m kidding. I figured as much. That’s why I made your favorite food.”

~~

It was too early to function, in your opinion, but you would not dare to oversleep on a day like today. Today was Paul’s first day in Formula 2, and you wanted to surprise him with breakfast in bed.

You carefully crawled out of bed, struggling to release Paul’s arms from your torso, and snuck out of the room. You made it to the kitchen where Ralf was making oatmeal or something already. 

“How did you get in here?” You whisper shouted as you walked toward Ralf. “I was going to make him breakfast in bed. You ruined my surprise, Ralf!”

“I have a key, did you forget?” Ralf chuckled as he set two bowls in front of you. “You can take it to him. I’ll hide out here and make the protein shakes.” 

“Let me check on him first. I’ll bring him out here,” You responded, turning around and heading back into your shared room to find Paul not in the bed. You looked around and saw the light in the bathroom on as well as the sound of the shower turning off. You gave him a couple of seconds before walking in, seeing him with a towel around his waist as he ran his hand threw his blond locks. You walked up behind him as he finished pulling on his boxers and jeans, wrapping your arms around him as he did so. “You’ll never guess who broke into the apartment.”

“Gigi or Ralf? My money’s on Ralf,” he laughed, leaning back into your embrace.

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner!” You replied in mock enthusiasm, jumping up to place a kiss on his cheek, immediately feeling the roughness. You pulled back quickly and made a face at Paut through the mirror, “Dang, you need to shave. I’m going to eat the food Ralf made!”

With that, you left him to finish up in the bathroom as you got started with your day.

~~~~~

© BAD268 2023. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

#paul aron x reader #paul aron #paul aron imagine #paul x reader #formula 3 x reader #formula 2 x reader #formula 2 imagine #formula 3 imagine #prema racing #mercedes amg petronas #f2 x reader #f3 x reader #f2 imagine #f3 imagine #f2 #f3 #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

[byers-bowlcut]

Mike’s love for El being platonic, and not romantic, and realizing it over the course of season 3 reconciles nearly every contradiction with his behaviour.

He stands like a gay scarecrow as she kisses him in front of Will’s closet. That's him realizing that when he blurted out "I love her and I can't lose her again!" he meant it platonically. But her saying "ily too” WAS CLEARLY NOT PLATONIC, so now he’s left very confused (If he was simply shocked by the fact that she overheard him, he would’ve been surprised initially, and then kissed her back, and been all emotional and happy. But he wasnt.) 

In fact he probably realized his heart fluttered when Will said “not possible” to him in the scene literally 1 minute prior, but NOT when his gf was attempting to make out with him? That’s clearly a problem! lol

This leads flawlessly into season 4.

Mike has apparently been refusing to even write the word 'love’ in his letters for 6 whole months. Why? Cause he didn't want them to look like love letters.

Meanwhile, he’s jealous of Will painting something for a girl. So he argues with Will about growing apart.

El argues with him about not saying ily. In the fight, he deflects romantic connotations with words like “care” and superhero idolization that he seems suuuper into this season.

He NODS when Will says “What if they don’t like the truth?”. That’s him thinking “Yeah, El won’t like the truth that I don't return her romantic feelings.”

In the van, he says their meeting was dumb luck and anyone could've been there for her that night. That’s hinting that he was just being a decent human. Not that it was a fated love at first sight meeting.

Then Will says, “You’re afraid of losing her”. And THAT is the true issue here.

This whole concept of ‘losing El’ (be it in relationship/daily life, or in death), is scary to Mike, because of what he went through seasons 1-2. At 12 years old, he saw another kid that he developed a bond with, die right in front of his freaking eyes. But they didn’t have a body or anything. So Mike kept getting signs and intuitive feelings that she was still alive. So he questioned his own sanity. For a WHOLE YEAR. Can you imagine how traumatic that is? And then for a kid that age?? That’s exactly why he develops an unhealthy codependency with her in Season 3. And we see it have a negative impact on the unity of the party, and on Will.

But a traumatic response doesn’t change the fact that Season 3 transitions us through the party’s puberty and growth into teenage hood. 

And because of said puberty, Mike starts to realize what actual attraction towards someone is, or in this case… isnt.

Like if we think about the first two seasons, for a 12-13 year old living in that type of society, era, and a picture perfect white suburban American family, it would’ve been really really hard to figure it out back then! Like simply becoming very close friends with the opposite gender caused everyone (cough Nancy cough Lucas) to tell him that “ooooh you must like her”. So yeah, he thinks “I really must like her”. Because he does! He just can’t separate it from actual romantic attraction at that point due to age, and strong heteronormative standards, and no role models like Jonathan telling him “it’s okay to stray from the norm bro”. So of course he acts on it? That’s the NORM. He’s like, “You’re supposed to take a girl you like to the ball”, “We're supposed like girls now”, “This is what growing up means”, “This what old people do”. Like HELLO? Mike says stuff similar to that constantly. Dustin and Lucas do not. So yeah, it can be easily be read as heteronormativity. Not romantic attraction!

And so despite wanting to spend every day in the summer with El because of copious amounts of trauma from S1-2, he can’t continue believing its romantic attraction when his hormones say otherwise. 

Like just look at their kissing scenes S3-4:

Seasons 3 starts with him pulling her hands OFF of him when kissing. He’s voluntarily kissing her instead of spending time with his friends, cause he thinks that’s what he’s supposed to do as he’s “not a kid anymore!”, yet he’s evidently not even enjoying it if he’s taking her hands off lol. Then by the end of the season he doesn’t even kiss back, and has his eyes wide open. Then six months later, when he’s way more self aware of his own feelings, this dude wears SUNGLASSES to the airport. We (and all the characters there) can’t even see his true expression when kissing her. And what’s more, he puts the bouquet of flowers between their bodies, to SEPARATE FASTER. When he could’ve very easily put that hand/arm around her, not between them (that's what he does with his other hand holding the bags).  

And all of this: all this repression, the contradictions, the unsaid things... it all culminates to the monologue. Will told Mike in the van that El really needed him. And then Will reminds him of this again when El is in the piggyback, cause Will is annoying! (jokes lol). So of course, all rationality, all of Mike's realizations or progression, goes out the window. After all, he is THE HEART. He is needed by her. He can’t go through what he went through in season 1-2 again! It doesn’t matter if it’s not totally true. He needs to tell her what she wants to hear so she won’t DIE. The stakes are extremely high. So he delivers. He even takes all his knowledge of mediocre romance stories, and blurts out that it was love at first sight. It's silly to us the audience, cause if you actually go back and watch season 1 you can see that it's not even fucking true. 

So why would he lie? Well because he doesn’t KNOW when he fell in love with El. Because he never fell in love with her. So yeah. It’s PLATONIC with a capital P.

(And to add a cherry on top, he gives his sister’s ring to her jfc) 

#mike wheeler #gay mike wheeler #bi mike wheeler #btw im not trying to say 'mike isn't attracted to women period' #i'm just saying he sees EL platonically #my post can be interpreted as gay mike ofc #but i'm not trying to discount bi mike either #sexuality is a spectrum #bi kids can also confuse feelings due to heteronormativity #byler #will byers #elmike

[justwonder113]

I love your writing sm 🫠🫠

could you write something fluffy and suggestive for han were you sit on his lap in his studio chair and you can’t stop kissing him and you’re distracting him from his work and he finds it so cute that you’re like this x

Oh my god thank you so much sweetheart! You don't know how much it means to me that you like my writing. I'm really sorry for taking so long to write, even though I absolutely LOVED the idea!!! I had one the meltdowns and uni has been an absolute nightmare so sorry. I really hope this was what you wanted and I hope you will like it. I will try to update stories more and more. Thankfully I will have more time^^

My masterlist

If you have any requests feel free to ask(though it might take me some time)

Warnings: Kind of suggestive, Bold reader, Cute whiney Jisung but he does complete 180 in the end. Jisung calls reader a brat

23:33

You woke up from your sweet slumber by soft clicking of the keyboard. You didn't even realize when you started to dose off. All the work must have caught up to you. The week you had sure was hectic.

You looked at your boyfriend's hunched figure, he was deeply immersed in his work, he hadn't even noticed that you were awake. You felt sad, you barely saw each other. Your schedule was swarmed and he had comeback coming real soon. You tried to text and call but sometimes he was just so swarmed with work he responded hours later. He was really apologetic, he really tired his best. He texted you whenever he could, he sent gifts for you, sometimes flowers, sometimes food, when he knew your schedule was extra hectic. He also left you little notes around the house and, lets just say, randomly finding them was highlight of your day. Sometimes they were sweet messages, sometimes random quotes, sometimes silly little jokes and doodles. You loved every one of them and kept them in a little box in your room. You also tried to be just as supportive, this is why you were here in his studio, you came earlier with food and snacks for him and the boys. Jisung had barely texted you the whole day, so you knew he was extra busy, also you got suspicious that he wouldn't eat anything, he always got so involved with his work he sometimes forgot to even eat.

You were not wrong. Jisung shyly admitted to you that he, in fact, skipped a meal when you asked if he ate anything. Good for him that he was so cute and adorable you never had the ability to stay mad at him. He got so happy when he saw you that he almost knocked you down. He really was so adrable. The boys also thanked you, and you ate together, talking about what you were up to.

You talked for a while but one by one they left to do their own stuff leaving you with Jisung. Honestly, you were glad to be left alone with him, you've missed him too much. You talked with hushed voice, not once he let go of you, he was hugging you like a koala and showered your face with kisses. You couldn't help but giggle at his cute antics. After a while he excused himself and asked you to wait a little bit as he finished his song, promising to quickly wrap it up and go home together. But here you were now, still stuck in the studio.

You scanned around to find your phone to check the time, Jisung must have noticed you had fallen asleep and draped his jacket to keep you warm . He really was cute but you really wanted to scold him. He already worked inhuman hours he really was straining his body!

Your eyes almost popped out of your eyes when you noticed that it was basically midnight. Oh he really was done for now!

You got up, groaning from pain, your muscles were sore from laying on this uncomfortable sofa. After stretching a little you approached him, he was so immersed he didn't even notice you. You couldn't help but scoff when you carefully examined his face. His eyes were so red from looking at this damn screen all day. Apart from bloodshot eyes, he had dark eyebags, he looked a paler and you didn't know if you were exaggerating or not but he also looked a bit thinner. Also there was no way his body wouldn't ache from sitting like that, especially after dancing and practicing for ungodly amounts of time.

You carefully threaded your fingers through his hair and leaned down to kiss his cheek. He did jump a little not expecting your touch but he quickly relaxed and leaned into it. He opened his arms and looked at you with wide eyes expecting you to get into his lap and hug him. Sadly, it also meant that he still wasn't done. You sighed yet again, there was no way you could win this one. You complied and sat in his lap. Jisung immediately wrapped his arm around you and brought you closer to him so that you were chest to chest with no room between you, he quickly pecked your cheek and went back to working.

You tried your best to sit still and let him work so that you could go home as soon as possible, but you were also getting really bored.

After a minute or two an idea popped into your head. You shuffled a bit and hid your face into the crook of his neck, the smell of his perfume immediately soothing your senses. You put your right hand on his chest and wrapped the other around his shoulders. You waited for a second so that Jisung would think you were just getting comfortable, if he even noticed you moving around that is... The truth was that Han Jisung was really ticklish and his neck was especially sensitive. Whenever you decided to kiss his neck he would always reel back giggling and pouting at you cutely. He would always try and run away from you whenever he sensed that you were about to attack his neck. But where would he go now? You were in his lap, there was no way he could run.

You somewhat felt bad, he was always so sweet and gentle to you and no matter how ticklish he was he always let you snuggle up to his neck knowing that you loved it. Should you betray his trust like this?

He did notice you shuffling around, he tensed up for a second when your nose brushed against his sensitive skin but he quickly relaxed. You grinned it was your time to shine!

Carefully not to alert him you brushed your lips against his neck. The response was immediate, his hold around your waist immediately tightened. Oh you were going to get a reaction out of him one way or another. You kissed him again but with more passion now and quickly pecked him few more times. Jisung glanced at you but he didn't say anything. Oh he was on!

You continued your assault on his reddening skin and pecked every part of his skin you could reach one arm around his shoulders while the other had slid through his neck and into his hair playing with the silky soft stands on his nape, oaccasionaly pulling them drawing soft quiet groans from the boy. He whined out your name so prettily! And let's just say you absolutely adored his "little" reactions. He was set on staying as still as he could and act as if this whole thing didn't affect him at all but you could see right through him. "Babyy." He whined out but you didn't stop. His skin was all flushed in a beautiful shade of red, his breathing had become more rugged and shalllow. His left hand held onto your hip for dear life and brought you as close to him as it possibly could as if you would dissappear if he let go. God you loved this boy! You kissed him more and let's just say you hoped his jacket had a high collar because you had left really pretty marks onto his skin. You would gladly show it to the world but you were not sure how his fans would react if anyone were to see you and share photos. And you knew many stays had hawklike vision.

You didn't even consider to stop your attack, Jisung hadn't even done anything to stop you so, you let yourself go. It was only when you moved a little and started kissing his jaw and in the haze let your teeth graze against his skin that he held you tightly and pulled you off.

You looked at him with confused eyes, his face unreadable. Did you upset him? Was he mad? You were about to apologize when he sighed out something and leaned in to smash his lips against yours, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Both of his hands were around your waist now, pulling you impossibly close, as if he wanted to devour you, wanted to be one with you, and who were you to deny him anything? You tried your best to keep up with him and return the kiss with the same burning passion but honestly you couldn't keep up. You didn't know what came up to him but you loved it. You felt like melting, like you really thought you could turn into a puddle, you felt ignited, you felt alive. There was no thought in your head other than that you loved this boy. Your lungs were burning but you weren't even considering to lean back for air. You were just consumed with Han Jisung.

It was Han who broke the kiss and leaned back to let you breathe. Both of you struggled to breathe normally, as if you had forgotten how to do so. You wanted to say something but were at loss for words, it was Han who broke the silence. He flicked your forehead and pouted at you. "You're a real brat do you know that?" You couldn't help but giggle. You swore this boy had some type of switch into his head. He almost made you melt into a puddle by giving you the best kiss of your life and now he was pouting at you all cutely like he did nothing wrong. God you loved him!

You grinned at him, "Does this mean we're going home?"

Han rolled his eyes and softly pinched your side. "Brat."

Yup, you had won.

#stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz #stray kids imagines #skz fluff #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #han jisung #han jisung fluff #han jisung hard hours #han jisung imagines #han jisung reactions #han jisung x reader #han skz #stray kids han #stray kids han jisung #han drabble

[slxtslovebambi]

Stalker analysis.

Characters: Eren and Floch <3

Synopsis: what kind of stalkers/yandere they would be.

Warnings: the titel says it all

Wc: 900+

Eren

Eren knows you since Highschool.

You were close with Mikasa and Annie and since he’s friends with Mikasa he quickly gains a lot of knowledge about you.

He’s the anti social type of stalker for sure. He has friends yes but only a few close ones and he’s not interested in making new ones.

He’d be the type to constantly call night and day, just to hang up on you before you even have the opportunity to pick up.

Eren always had trouble with controlling his emotions, what makes him so unpredictable. One moment he obsesses over you, thinking his life doesn’t have any meaning without you being around, and the next moment he wants to break you, take everything from you and make you live a miserable life, for simple things like talking to another guy, or throwing away the flowers he sent you.

Eren would send you a lot of stuff. Teddy bears, letters etc. At first you didn’t think much of it, but when random gifts started appearing all over your apartment, it started to freak you out. You were scared of being alone. If he was able to make his way into your place before, he could break in anytime.

But you’re not supposed to be scared of him. He doesn’t want that. He thinks that nothing that he’s doing is wrong. He wants to be the person you run to when you’re scared, but at the same time nothing gets him more of than the thought of being the person that scares you, and makes you feel so helpless.

He forgets to eat, sleep and to take care of his close friends and family, since he spends so much time watching your social media accounts and following you around in his car.

Today he wants to change things though. He waited for you to end your shift at the bakery that you work at. He inhales the smoke from his cigarette once more before throwing it to the side and making his way over to you.

You were looking for you’re keys to close the store as they fell out of your purse, on the ground. You bend down, trying to pick them up when a muscular pale hand gets ahead of you.

"those are yours right?" He gives you a smirk, handing over the keys with one finger. "y-yes, thank you. Do we know each other?" You inspect his face, convinced that you’ve seen him at your job before. "Oh yeah… I think I’ve seen you around before."

Floch

Floch knows you personally, however you’re not even aware of the fact that he exists…at least that’s what he thinks. Back in Highschool he was more of a loner actually. He didn’t have that many friends but the ones that he had weren’t close to you at all, wich is why you never really talked to him.

The fact that you didn’t see him scratched his ego, and at first he only felt hatred towards you but that quickly changed when he noticed your selfless behavior towards other people.

Floch is the unstable stalker type with a lot of self image issues and insecurities. He feels very entitled, like you deserve being watched by him for not acknowledging his presence. If anything then he’s the victim in this story, for having his feelings played with, right?

Different from Eren he’s not really in to writing letter’s or stuff like that. He’ll just send you hundreds of anonymous messages throughout the day, saying things like "I like the way you did your make up today." Or "what a pretty dress :)" with attached photos.

To him it’s not really stalking, he feels like he’s just 'protecting' you. Making sure you get home safely by following you after you just left your friends house or tracking your location after hacking your phone, was just the beginning of a series of things that Floch would do.

Floch would also actually go out of his way to ask people he doesn’t even like, personal information about you.

He’s totally the 'if I can’t have you, no one can.' type of guy and he’s not shy about it. He hasn’t killed anybody over you but he’s more likely to do so than Eren.

Floch has always struggled with things like lack of empathy due to some psychopathic traits and maybe some kind of personality disorder. That’s also why he never really felt bad whenever you cried over the fact that there was yet another picture of you, that you never saw before, sent via text message.

You were grocery shopping today while talking to one of your friends on the phone when suddenly your cart bumps into another one.

"Oh my god I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Are you okay?" You quickly apologize as you turn your head to face whoever you just accidentally hit.

"Yes don’t worry I’m fine." The tall man speaks softly while looking down at you.

He looks so familiar…

"Wait I know you…did we went to school together?" Your brain tries its best to put a name to the face in front of you.

Floch looks at you stunned at the fact that you seem to remember him. He doesn’t know what to say as he feels his heart beating faster and his palms getting sweaty.

"I- I… yes I think you were in my biology class."

He speaks taken back.

"Yeah I remember! Did you change your hair?"

You smile warmly at him, waiting for an answer. He’s too flabbergasted to actually talk to you so he just nods in response.

"How about we go drink a coffee sometime?"

There’s no way you just asked him that.

He doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry right now, but having this conversation with you just showed him that all the analysis he made about you were correct. You have to be the sweetest human being on earth, he just wants to protect you.

"Sure… I’d love that."

Might create a tag list (idk yet)

Don’t forget to like and reblog <3

#aot smut #aot x female reader #eren smut #eren x reader #aot x y/n #eren x you #eren headcanons #eren jeager smut #floch x reader #aot floch #floch x eren #floch forster x reader #floch smut #yandere eren #yandere floch #floch forster smut #yandere aot #yandere snk

[lilacs-and-vanilla]

@shslsimpette commented on a different Spot post that they want an N$FW alphabet for the Spot 😈

Honestly I was thinking of making one of these because they seem very thorough. Great way to make a guideline for smut writing.

First one I’ve done before, and it was hard to get all of the words for the funky letters like Q and X. But anyways…

(god this took so long…)

N$FW Alphabet for The Spot/Johnathan Ohnn

All of the writing beyond this point is smutty

A - How good is he at aftercare?

He’s very doting.

“Did that feel good?” “Are you alright?” “Do you need anything?” “Let me get you some water.” “Do you want to rinse off?”

If you decide you want a bath, he will use his portals to (haphazardly) run you one so he doesn’t have to leave your side.

Cuddles and pillows and blankets galore, trying his best to make you comfortable.

B - What’s his favorite body part on you?

He likes looking at your face, studying your features and committing them to memory. Especially your eyes.

It completely stumps the both of you as to how he can perceive things like sight, scent, and sound without normal features like a nose or eyes or ears, but you won’t question it.

He doesn’t mean to stare, he really doesn’t. You can always tell when he is though, because the his face portal swirls in a different kind of way. What an interesting way to read someone.

He just likes your eyes, your freckles, your birthmarks, your scars, the features that set you apart from everyone else and makes you you.

The fact that he’s missing his own face adds to this little obsession. He misses his old body, but that doesn’t mean he can’t love you for yours.

It’s not entirely sexual, but he does like watching the way your face looks when you’re.. ahem. Enjoying yourself.

The way your eyes roll back, or the way your mouth hangs open, the drool and the tears. He loves all of it and he loves that he’s the one making you look that way.

C - Cum. Anything to do with that particular liquid.

He doesn’t excrete normal bodily fluids like saliva or semen. At least not anymore. Anything that comes out of him is dark and oozy.

If he’s overstimulated, all of his holes will start leaking. It can get a bit messy, especially on the sheets. Thank goodness it doesn’t stain fabric or skin…

He gets very embarrassed whenever he starts leaking (or sees it leaking out of you).

D - What’s his dirty secret?

He won’t admit it, but he’s stolen a few pieces of your clothing.

It’s proven that he can eat through the hole on his face and taste and sense spice. So I want to assume that he can also smell.

He likes to hold your clothes or your sheets over the hole in his face while he touches himself, sometimes even slipping some of the fabric in to get a taste.

But there was one time he got a little too carried away and now one of your favorite hoodies that you thought you lost is floating around in dark matter space somewhere.

He’s too ashamed to tell you.

E - Experience. How much does he have?

None. None whatsoever. At least not any hands on experience with partners other than you.

He’s seen enough p0rn (the good stuff, none of that over dramatic acting crap) to know what’s good or not. He knows what to look for, signs your close or if you’re uncomfortable.

In typical scientist fashion, he has his strategies and, in theory, he could easily keep you on the edge for as long as he wants or absolutely wreck you.

He just hasn’t mustered up the courage to put his plans into action though…

F - What’s his favorite position?

Ride him. Ride him. He likes seeing you on top of him.

He’s very vanilla when it comes to this. He doesn’t want you to twist or bend in uncomfortable positions.

But with that power of his, the ability to stick a limb through one hole and make it appear somewhere else? What else could he do…?

G - Goof or aloof? His general attitude.

He’s a goof. A whole nerd. What else would you expect of a scientist?

The only time he’s not is when he’s brooding, focused on revenge, on proving himself.

He wants to prove he’s not just some “Villain of the Week.” He wants to prove to you that he’s all you need.

H - Hair. How much does he have? Is he well groomed?

The poor man misses his hair, so he lives vicariously through yours.

He’s not particularly into hair pulling. He does enjoy this though:

Your head leaned back against a pillow on top of his fist as he grips the back of your head, holding it in place as he… (insert smexy scene that I can’t put into proper words right now).

When you’re both finished he likes to run his fingers through it, play with it, braid it, just touch it in general.

I - Intimacy. How is he in romantic aspect?

He tries to be romantic, and sometimes it works. Other times it comes off cheesy. That just makes you love him more though.

He’s a bit traditional. Flowers, candle light, cute little picturesque date night set ups (away from onlookers, obviously)

Secluded spots around the city like rooftops or museums and restaurants after they close.

And when you tell him it’s goofy shit like this that makes you want to absolutely destroy him in the bedroom, date night is normally cut a little short.

J - Does he jerk off?

He prefers to do it with you, but if he’s alone he’ll make do with his hands.

K - What are his kinks?

Edging. Edge him until all of his holes are leaking black ooze (call me weird, I have a vision). Edge him until he whines and cries and begs to cum.

Degrade him, but in a nice way. He won’t let anyone do it but you. Don’t call him pathetic. Don’t make him feel bad about himself. Make him feel like you’re in control. Like he can let himself go.

L - Location. What’s his favorite place to do it?

He’s down to do it anywhere as long as no one else is around.

And he can really go anywhere. Anywhere in your dimension or any other. Pick a spot, and he’ll take you there.

M - Motivation. What turns him on?

The edges of his holes are sensitive. If you touch the place where spot meets skin, he’ll squirm.

It feels like a tingle to him. A localized one.

Run your fingers along the inside of a hole on his palm and the feeling will shoot up his forearm. Do it on his stomach or his thighs or god forbid between his legs when his cock isn’t in use (he keeps it somewhere), and you’ll work him up real quick.

N - No, absolutely not. What turns him off? Something he won’t do?

He won’t participate in exhibitionism. He wants to be the only one to see you come undone. It’s all because of him after all. He should be the only one to witness it.

O - Oral. How does he feel about it? Giving? Receiving?

Seeing as though he doesn’t have a mouth anymore, he can’t eat you out. But he really, really wishes he could.

He was reluctant to let you put himself in your mouth, seeing as though he wasn’t sure if his strange ooze could be safely digested.

You were confident though, insistent you wanted it.

P - Pace. Fast and rough or slow and gentle?

It depends on how he feels.

If he’s feeling intimate and romantic, laid back, he’ll take things slow.

If he’s trying in that state of mind where he’s trying to prove himself to you, he will give it all he’s got to the point where he wears himself out.

Q - Quickies. How does he feel about them?

If you work him up in public, he will find somewhere in an alley or rooftop to bang one out. To bang you.

R - Does he take risks?

What’s a good villain without a few risks? And he wants to be a good villain. He just doesn’t think that applies to the bedroom.

There was the time he got a bit carried away, and in the middle of a particularly intense love making session, one of his portals opened involuntarily.

You immediately recognized your apartment building’s elevator. The mirrored walls, the carpet, the sliding doors closing behind a neighbor as they were leaving.

He apologized profusely and said he’d close it, but you told him to keep it open and he was too riled up to stop now. He was so close. Maybe just one more minute…

It was a sick, nerve-racking game of elevator roulette.

S - Stamina. How many rounds will he last?

He can last maybe two or three rounds when he’s on top. If you want more, you’ll have to take over, climbing on top of him and pressing him into the bed as you pull more out of him.

T - Toys. Does he use them? On you? On himself?

He’s a big fan of vibes. Whether it’s something that goes inside either you or him or something that slides around his cock.

Anything that gives off that extra little buzzy feeling.

He doesn’t like fleshlights. He’d rather be inside you.

U - “Unfair!” How does he feel about teasing? Giving? Receiving?

He’s absolute shit at dishing it out. He gets too flustered to tease you, even when he’s on top.

He’s also the “don’t bully me, I’ll cum” type. Tease him, degrade him (but be kind), call him your little cum puppy (Dalmatian comment reference?) and he will pass away.

V - How vocal is he? What sounds does he make?

Johnathan has a tendency to ramble during love making. One moment he’s drilling you or getting drilled by you, and the next he’s telling you fun facts about whatever comes to mind.

He doesn’t do it on purpose. His brain simply short circuits at some point. He goes with what he knows.

(Why don’t you turn it into a game? See how many facts he can name about a specific subject before he cums…)

In general, he’s very whiny. That coupled with all of the begging creates a perfect symphony.

Exhibit A: “Ohh fuck! Ah, youfeelsssoosogood.. please, (Y/N) please. m’ so close, please. don’t stop dontstopp aaahhn~”

W - Wild card. A miscellaneous headcanon.

As a part of the monster fucker fandom, of course anything that doesn’t have a standard cock has a tentacle one.

Anyways. Portal cock…

Enough said.

X - X Marks the Spot (kms for this joke). His favorite place to be touched.

Anywhere! He just wants you to touch him.

So many people think he’s scary or creepy. When you touch him, all of that goes away.

Y - Yearning. How high is his sex drive?

He’s not insane about it to the point where he constantly craves sex but when he gets in the mood he can be very needy.

Z - ZZZ… how long does it take to fall asleep after the deed is done?

If he’s been thoroughly fucked beyond his limit, he will pass out almost immediately after (after cuddling up beside you and making sure you’re comfortable)

Feel free to ask for different characters to write these for! (but maybe limit it to 4 or 5 letters…)

#spider man across the spider verse #the spot #the spot x reader #i want him inside me #or i want to be inside him #me when #when he #when #portal cock

[astro-ellie]

you should write about how the reader gets mad at abby and tells her she dont want nothing to do with her and gives her back all her shit and abby is just like “oh okay, whos hoodie is that? i want it back, and the shirt under i bought that for you. i think the whole outfit” which leads to something ykykykykk ☮️

it’s immature.

it’s immature, childish and stupid, but after your last fight, you can’t bring yourself to care. you’re fed up with abby and her antics, and on top of that, you’re angry.

you’re angry with her attitude and how she seemingly doesn’t really care about your relationship. she’s always been flaky, cancelling dates last minutes and not showing up to important things- well, things that are important to you.

abby is a busy woman, she always has been. you’re also busy, but you still manage to make it to her stuff. the only time you’ve missed a game of hers is that time you had the flu, and you even show up to training sessions that are extra important to you.

but abby doesn’t do that for you. there’s always something that she just can’t miss, and it has started to feel like you’re at the bottom of her priority-list.

it was an ongoing issue in the relationship, and something you needed to deal with, but you still expected her to show this once. not even abby was clueless to not know how important your birthday was.

when she didn’t show up at the restaurant, you had waited at first. checking the time every five minutes, giving her the benefit of the doubt until the feeling of embarrassment became too much.

you tried to call her, just once. when she didn’t pick up, you took your jacket and left. the way the staff had looked at you in pity only made the feeling deep in your stomach grow.

just like you expected, it takes two days of radio silence from your side for her to come crawling to your front door. you know this all too well, she’ll be pounding on your door with that guilty look on her face.

never even apologies before she uses your hidden spare key to open the door, then she’ll slip into whatever room your hiding in. press a kiss onto your cheek, and it’s like nothing ever happened.

not this time though. you’ve dumped all of her stuff in your hallway, and you’ve just been waiting to hear the sound of her car pull up next to your home, just waiting for her to use the spare key, just waiting for her to see the boxes with all her stuff in.

you can hear the door being unlocked, hear the front door open and you certainly hear abby’s exclaim of; “what the fuck?” all the way into your bedroom.

it’s immature and childish, but it’s working.

it has abby stomping into your bedroom, with furrowed eyebrows and a hand on her hip. you know you’re being immature, but still you feign nonchalance and look down on your phone. act busy, act busy, act busy.

“why is all that shit in the hallway?”

“your shit.”

“what?”

“it’s your shit. your shit is in the hallway, abby.” the tension in the room becomes thick, and it seems that abby now can feel it too. you see the way she shifts her weight around on her feet, the way she opens her mouth only to close it again.

“are you fucking serious?” her lips are pressed into a thin line, and she’s moving towards you with unsure steps.

you can’t help but let out a sigh, leaning back on your elbows on the bed. “yes, i’m fucking serious.”

“why is all my shit packed up then? can you tell me that?”

this all feels bittersweet, ‘cause abby is right where you wanted her, she’s getting angry and upset and that means she’s feeling exactly how she made you feel.

but the fact that she can’t see it, can’t see what pushed you to put all her belongings left behind in your apartment in those cardboard boxes makes you feel worse. why can’t she just see how bad she’s been treating you?

“your shit is in the hallway ‘cause i’m sick of you. i’m sick of your shit, abby.” you’re noticeable upset now, the pitch of your voice going up as you speak.

the room becomes silent, and god, the way abby looks at you is almost enough to make you feel guilty. almost. she looks like a kicked puppy, she nervously takes a step back and you see the way her lip trembles.

“are you- are you breaking up with me?”

her question is met with silence. if you speak now, you won’t be able to stop the tears from flowing. it’s too much, and you’re afraid that you’ll let her win. that one more look at her sad expression will have you apologising and pressing a kiss to her forehead, then going back to your normal lives as if this never happened.

you’re not looking at her anymore, your eyes instead trained on your lap. if you were looking at her, you would be able to see how abby’s expression was changing from her sad, sad puppy look into an angry, aggravated one.

when she says your name, you almost wince. it’s dripping with anger, and it hurts. ‘cause abby has never said your name like this before.

“if you’re just going to fucking dump me, i want all my shit back.” now that catches your attention, looking up in confusion. before you can open your mouth, point out the fact that all her shit is already packed, abby’s voice booms out again.

”like that fucking shirt for example, oh, and the hoodie. yeah, you know the fucking one.” she’s storming over to your closet, ripping it open, and rummaging around. you know which hoodie she means, and you feel heat creeping up your neck.

it’s the hoodie you stole from her a few months into your relationship. abby let you keep it ‘cause wearing it helped you sleep when she wasn’t there, making it feel like she was physically there with you in the bed.

“fuck you, abby.” you’re standing up in anger now, hands clammy. it’s her time to be immature, childish and stupid.

“oh now you decide to speak up. so, will you tell me what the fuck is up with you?” when abby is met with silence, she barks out a menacing laugh. “okay, then give me my fucking shit back. now.”

your eyes are burning, and you’re desperate to do something back. so, you pull abby’s shirt, the shirt you’ve been wearing, off your body and throw it at her. “here, happy now?”

she looks shocked for a few seconds before a taunting smile appears on her lips. she's raising her hand and pointing her finger at you, taking one, two, steps forward and saying something. you can't make it out, too busy staring at how her lips move.

it's the adrenaline from arguing, that must be it. that must be what pushes you to take a step towards her, and suddenly you're pressing your lips against hers. or was it abby that pushed hers against yours?

everything after that is a blur. abby brings her hands to your face, holding your face in between the rough palms of her hands. she walks you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed. when you sit down, abby pulls away. if you weren't so far gone, you'd be embarrassed by the whine you let out at the loss of her lips.

abby stands between your knees, moving her head to your ear. you use all your energy to focus on her voice, to try to hear what she's whispering against the side of your face.

“i’m not going to- not going to give it you” she’s panting in your ear, and all you can do is whine in frustration as you try to grind your hips, seeking relief. “you’re not getting anything. not until you fucking talk to me, you get that?”

moving your hand to the button of your pants and grunting out a “fine, i’ll just do it myself.” you almost except abby to try to stop you, for her to just cave in.

instead, she leans back and gives you a teasing smile. “fine, get off on your own. you know it won’t feel as good as me though, right?”

and you hate how she’s right, but you can’t let her know that. so, in a haste you shimmy your way out of your pants and move your hand towards your underwear.

the way abby’s eyes follow your movements with lust makes you feel good, powerful. for a few seconds, you forget why you’re here in front of her on the edge of the bed. forget about the look of anger and hatred a few moments ago. you almost even forget the way she made you feel at the restaurant, that humiliation.

the spell breaks when you hear abby’s voice again, her voice brings you back to reality.

“what are you waiting for?”

clearly, abby wants a show. so you’ll give her a show. slowly pulling your panties off your body, letting them fall down onto the floor next to her. the way abby’s eyes fixate on your cunt spreads confidence throughout you.

slowly moving your hands from your bra clad chest, relishing in the way abby looks at you, the way she bites her lips while looking at you.

you’re teasing her, moving one of your hands to the back of your back and unclasping your bra. the bra gets thrown to the side of the bed, and abby lets out a breathy sigh at the sight of your naked chest.

the way abby is still completely dressed in front of you, still standing in between your legs, while you’re completely undressed sends a wave of pleasure throughout your body.

you’re now fed up with your own teasing, moving your hands from your upper body downwards until you reach the space in between your thighs. abby’s eyes almost roll to the back of her head when you slip a finger inside of you, the sight making her weak in the knees.

leaning your head back in pleasure as you slowly start moving the digit, you quickly realise it’s not enough.

so, instead you try using two fingers. moving them in and out of you at a slow pace, you almost don’t notice it when abby suddenly sits down on the floor, on her knees, eye level with your pussy.

when she grabs the hand you got between your legs, you huff out an annoyed “what?”. she’s just sitting there, completely quiet, before she eventually says “fuck it” and before you can question her she dives right in.

abby’s tongue feels heavenly, she knows you well enough to bring you pleasure quickly. her nose is bumping into your clit, and you can’t help but let out a pathetic moan at the feeling.

the way her eyes are hazed over with desire is enough to make you grind up against her face, desperate for more. you swear, you swear, you see abby move one of her hands down to her own crotch. you crane your neck to try to get a better view of it, and when you do you can’t help but let out a whine of her name.

she moans against your slick, and works her tongue faster. when she moves her face slightly upwards and suck on your clit, you reach your peak. heart beating fast in your chest, completely out of breath, you feel how abby moves away from you.

before you can feel disappointed by her distance, she sits on the bed and pull you upwards, further from the edge.

still fully clothed she lays beside you, who’s still coming down from your high. you’re too gone to think about the way she lays besides you, the way she moves her arm and tries to carefully hold you.

the room is silent once again, but the thick tension seems to have melted away and instead there’s something else in the air, something neither abby or you can quite put your finger on.

“can you please talk to me about it now?”

there’s a beat of silence, and it makes abby nervous. you don’t look at her, instead you close your eyes. after a few seconds, you cuddle into her side and whisper a quiet “tomorrow”.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fic #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x female reader #tlou abby #Abby smut #abby fluff #abby anderson blurb #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson drabble #abby anderson angst #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby tlou #abby anderson #blurb

[depressopax]

Dale Cooper SFW headcanons

Fandom: Twin Peaks

Pairing: Dale Cooper x gender neutral reader Genre: Fluff, headcanons Warning(s): Cuss words, dirty jokes Words: 900 Summary: Being in a relationship with Dale Cooper would include…  English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 Avaliable on AO3

This man… He has so much love to give you, and won’t hesitate to do so.

He sees you as a treasure and knows how to treat you like one.

His job means long days and much time apart from you. To not speak of the dangers that come with being a special agent.

He tries making up for this, though.

At work, he’s serious and focused on his tasks

At home, all his attention is on you.

ALL OF IT.

He spends his free days off work with you, either at home or going outdoors. As long as you’re together, he doesn’t care. 

He might come across as “clingy”, but he just wants your love and company.

His career means late night, so he either comes home to find you already sleeping, or sitting up on the couch watching tv. Either way, he always greets you with the biggest smile.

You try visiting him at the police station, too. Going to him for lunch, surprise visits etc… 

If he has the opportunity, he does the same for you when/if you work.

Dale is not a good chef, but he enjoys cooking for you.

Especially in the mornings.

He often ends up burning the food without realizing it

But he looks so happy when he tells you that he has cooked, and you can’t bring yourself to tell him that he accidentally burned it

He looks so smug whenever you eat his food and tell him you like it

He might be a night owl, but still gets up early in the morning. How he does so is a damn mystery.

Maybe it’s the fact he usually has weird dreams at night that makes him wake up early?

Or is he just always energetic? 

He wakes you up with kisses and the first thing you smell is coffee. 

This man is absolutely head over heels in love with you

He appreciates small gestures from you, he’s not the guy to like big romantic gestures. Like seriously, just make a cup of coffee for this man and he will swoon for you.

Dale’s love language being touch and quality time 

He likes making coffee for you, it’s his ultimate way of saying “I love you” lol

Speaking of saying “Ily”, he was definitely the one to say it first. 

You’d only been dating for a month or less when he realised how much you mean to him, and that he had fallen for you.

He feels very comfortable around you and appreciates the feeling of you jot judging him

That’s why he likes sharing his weird theories with you and rant about different cases he’s working on, wanting your take on it

Whilst other people laugh at his passion for the paranormal, you are supportive, and find it interesting too.

Which makes him very happy, since he finally can share his thoughts without getting judged <3

He also tells you about the weird dreams he has

At first, you were very concerned when Dale started ranting about his dreams of weird creatures and creepy places

…But you grew to like it. Once getting used to his weird dreams, you’re always intrigued to hear another story

If you don’t believe in paranormal stuff/you’re not spiritual - you definitely change your opinions later. He has a way of talking about it that just fascinates you to the point you also believe it.

Which only makes him love you more, if possible.

You and Dale are a pretty calm couple, but your shared love for creepy shit probably leads to Dale taking you on your own little investigations/missions

He wouldn't let you tag along to a real mission, but suggests going to abandoned places for sightseeing.

And who are you to say no to that?

Somehow, it’s almost cozy to walks hand in hand in the creepiest of places, while discussing theories and scaring each other with stories

You also make it a challenge sometimes - who gets scared first?

Spoiler alert! It’s you.

Dale is a special agent, and works with cases like this, after all. 

He’s pretty competitive, believe it or not

Sometimes, he even makes sure to make you frightened 

He likes comforting you and feeling like “the knight on a white horse”

A bit rude, I know, but he can’t help it!

“Fuck sake Dale! You did that on purpose!”“I would never!”“...”“Ok, maybe I did intend to scare you.”“I hate you”“I know you don’t… Don’t be mad at me, my love!”

Don’t worry, he does make it up to you in one way or another ;)

His ideal date would be coffee dates (what a surpriseeee) 

On your first date he took you to Double R Diners, so he could show you how amazing coffee and cherry pies they have.

He also likes taking you out on picnics, sightseeings and being outdoors with you.

But if you prefer calm dates, he doesn’t mind taking you to the cinema, or even just stay at home to watch movies and eating takeaway food

He doesn’t mind PDA - he holds your hand in public, kisses your forehead, wants you close etc…

But he prefers to kiss you when he’s alone with you

If you were to kiss him around people he’d turn into a blushing mess lmao

Dale is the boyfriend who likes staying up with you - having deep late night conversations

The two of you are pretty cheesy - slow dancing under the night sky, stargazing… You name it

Being in a relationship with Dale brings you the passion, love, adventures and amount of weirdness that you need in your life - His goal is to be the best boyfriend ever <3

#fanfic writing #writeblr #twin peaks #x reader #twin peaks fire walk with me #kyle maclachlan #fire walk with me #twin peaks dale cooper #dale cooper #dale cooper x reader #special agent dale cooper #dale cooper smut #dale x reader #twin peaks x reader #twin peaks smut #twin peaks fanfic #fan fiction #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfics #fanfiction writer #fanfiction writing #fanfic writers #fanfic readers #fanfic authors #fluff #drabble #one shot #masterlist

[blackbat05]

Your Rock

Steven Grant x Reader

Plot: You’re knee deep in work and feel like nothing is working. Luckily, you have someone to give you a little TLC.

Genre: PG-13 (Themes of overworking)

A/N: Yet another self-indulgent fic along the same genre. Another loving Steven but this time it’s to tackle my final hurdle of uni. Reblogs appreciated!

For a split second, you felt like you were going to combust if you stared at the screen of your laptop for any longer.

The words that you wrote were starting to jumble and merge into one. You were becoming increasingly frustrated as you didn’t do as much as you hoped to do. Moreover, you felt lost and clueless if you were even writing the right things. For once, you just wanted your academic life to go well.

As the door opens, you give a muffled scream into the stuffed penguin you were holding for emotional support. Steven sees your frazzled state and can put two and two together. Placing the groceries on the counter, he makes his way to your side.

Like the sensitive man he was, Steven carefully pressed your shoulders, undoing the knots that formed since you sat at the kitchen for god knows how long. You groan as sign of thanks.

“Love, how long have you been at it?”

“I dunno, but I was really hoping to finish this part. So that I can move on to my other assignment.” You blinked blearily at him, belatedly noticing the dark skies outside your shared apartment.

“Did I-”

Steven senses that you’re about to enter a breakdown. He hugs you close, letting you feel his presence. Once your breathing settles, he releases you gently.

“I got ramen from the Japanese shop three blocks down. Do you want to eat with me?”

Steven’s offer was tantalizing but your overactive mind didn’t allow you to forget your tasks. “Steven, that sounds lovely but I still have-”

His expression changes to a determined one. “No. You’re eating and that’s final. When was the last time you had something to eat? Scratch that. Can you even remember what you had for lunch?”

Steven’s barrage of questions make you think but you come up with a blank. Your inability to answer means a small victory for him. He opens the takeaway bags, taking out two containers of ramen. Under his watchful eye, you clear your stuff away and realize the fatigue starting to kick in.

Placing a container in front of you, you see the big juicy scallops floating in the spicy broth. Steven has gotten you your favorite ramen and suddenly you can’t help but to get a little emotional which he notices as he sorts out his own meal.

“What’s wrong love? Not to your taste?”

You shake your head, giving a watery smile. “It’s perfect. You read my mind Steven. You always do.” Taking a deep exhale, you see him patiently waiting for you.

“It’s ok to feel this way love. It just means you care about it. But you have to take a break. It won’t run away from you, you’ll finish it eventually.” He tells you softly, but the weight of his words have an impact on you.

As always, Steven was the wise one in this relationship. The anchor. Or maybe because it was his experiences that made him stronger. Your respect and love for him grew immensely once again.

You get off your seat to hug him once more and you can’t imagine, what would a life be without Steven?

“Probably dull.”

“Huh?”

“If you didn’t crash into me in the lecture hall, your life would still have been mundane as ever.”

You pause for a moment before breaking into laughter. How could he read your mind so well?

“Hey! I didn’t crash into you! I was just… I was just-”

“Too busy looking at my adorable face?”

You pretend to gasp at his cheekiness. “Well look whose getting too confident! And here I was thinking who to bring for the ice cream buffet next week.”

“I’m sorry love! I just can’t help but to state the facts.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You slurp more noodles, tummy feeling satisfied. The haze in your brain slowly starts to clear and you start to feel the fatigue kick in. Steven notices this as he automatically clears the table once you were finished.

“Steven, I can do it. You bought the stuff.”

He waves you away. “Love, you had a long day. This is fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning for our walk? And then we can head for breakfast?”

You nod, eager to take a break from that wretched computer of yours.

“Go to bed, I’ll be right behind you.”

You grab your things, preparing to head into the bedroom. You glance over your shoulder to see Steven washing the dishes with precision and placing the groceries into the cabinets.

You had no idea what you did to deserve him. He was always so willing to give, to support… he was simply your rock.

“Hey Steven?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

#steven grant x reader #steven grant #oscar isaac #moon knight #steven grant fluff #steven grant x reader fluff #based on poll I did the other time #you asked #I delivered?

[yesimwriting]

Hi! I understand if this isn’t something you’re interested in but I was wondering if you could write the boys being possessive/protective over the reader. I was just rereading final girl chapter 5 and I’d just love to see her rip them a new one in her own way about boundaries and stuff and seeing them manipulate/grovel there way in to her good graces again or like how she would’ve reacted to the boys scaring away the boy who took her to the party if Billy wasn’t in one of his moods I don’t know if I asked this right I’ve sent asks so many time to you now and I’m all ways worried I don’t convey/explain what I mean properly and it’s just confusing for you but anyway have a good day/night and whether you can or can’t,thank you anyway :)

*set in the same world as the final girl fic series but can be read as a stand alone with little to no context lol

A/n hi!! there's still some manipulative vibes in this bc i just feel like one of them is bound to trauma dump as a way 'in' when y/n's mad at them but i still feel like it's mainly nice! especially bc there's some emotional growth

----

You're still on the phone, moving in and out of their line of sight. The intention was never to watch you from the sprawling tree they use to get to your window, but there was something about your focus on the whatever conversation you're still having that left Billy telling Stu to wait.

Billy's not sure what he's waiting for. Maybe it's a form of masochism, to see how long you'll talk to whoever's on the other end.

"She's still on the phone." Stu's voice has taken on that hollow, detached quality that's never an indicator of self control. Billy says nothing, not in the mood to defend you or deflect the stinging. "He wouldn't call her..."

There's a second part of Stu's sentence that's just implied. He wouldn't call her after what happened in the locker room. "She found out. She might have called him."

The words leave a bitter taste in his mouth. The fact that Jack McCarthy didn't permanently fade back into obscurity after he and Stu made it clear that while you might buy the whole study-buddy act, they can see straight through him is pounding inside his head. Again and again, the start of a headache.

"If you don't want to..." Stu presses his palm into bark, so hard he wouldn't be surprised if he pulled his hand away bloody. "If you're not in the mood to talk to cutie in there, there's always another way to see if she's talking to him."

Even though it's a barely an idea, a soft suggestion, the knot in Stu's chest loosens with the words. Just checking in on Jack could easily turn into calling Jack...which would lead to the most mind clearing thing Stu can imagine. Thoughts of tearing him apart, piece by piece until it's impossible to tell that the mess of red and guts was ever the teenager with the letterman jacket that threw his arm around you during your study period rush to the front of Stu's mind. It's so soothing that he almost moves to the lower branch that lets him reach the ground.

Stu thinks about bringing it up again, a little less subtle and more desperate but he wants it too bad to care. Needs it. You pace back into view as his lips part. You're now holding the phone against your other ear, meaning that the receiver is no longer blocking your face. He pauses, taking the opportunity to watch you more openly than he normally lets himself.

Your lips are slightly parted in a just barely-there pout and your eyes are locked on something in front of you. There's something about the slight, halfhearted irritation in your expression. It takes Stu a second to place why he can't stop staring and then it clicks--it's twistingly cute...and you're...pretty.

Not that Stu doesn't regularly see you as attractive or hot, but pretty's different. At least, different in the way it's sticking out to him now, like a splinter that breaks off beneath the skin before you can pull it out. You're pretty in a way that Stu never thinks about. Pretty in a soft way that reminds him of domestic shit and makes his chest feel tight.

"We uh--" It's not the first time they've popped by with a backpack with a few things to do, but this time it's different. They took their time thinking about what you'd like, what'd work as a sort of peace offering. Now, watching you chat away without a care in the world over your fight, it all feels pathetic.

Everything becomes a soft buzz of background noise as you press you sigh. Billy wishes he knew how to better read lips because you sigh, say something, and then dramatically fall back on your bed.

You shift onto your stomach, propping your head up with an elbow. The oversized T-shirt that you're in slides down your shoulder and your hair's a little fluffier than before due to your movements. There's a softness to your appearance that leaves an odd feeling flaring in Billy's stomach, a sensation that could be considered butterflies if it felt less like being stabbed.

The in-between of too close while still being so far is oddly overwhelming drawn out like this. Billy swallows as you laugh at something from the other line. "We're already here."

It's a different level of sad to get here and then turn around, so Billy shift forward and finally reaches for the window. The move has grown so familiar Billy even knows at what point he needs to push a little harder because of the way the sides stick to the frame. He moves his hand an it doesn't budge. To add salt to the wound, you've locked the window. You never lock the fucking window.

A dangerous wave of flighty rejection coils in his stomach. The part of him that knows how to think in the long term knows that he should leave while he still can. The last thing anyone needs is for Billy to start associating this with you.

The window creeks and your head snaps towards them. Your eyebrows draw together and you sit up fully, even more of your shoulder and collarbone exposing themselves with the motion. You mumble something into the phone, a beat passes, and then you stand. you approach the window begrudgingly, placing a hand on your hip before cradling the phone between your neck and cheek.

Your lips are pressed together in a way that seems to lull the violent mindset of them both. It's the kind of look you get when you're trying not to smile. After a second, you lean down, undo the lock, and open the window.

"You won't belie--" You sigh, moving to hold the phone again, "Stop enjoying this." Whoever's on the other line must really be annoying you, because you shift back enough to let Billy and Stu in through the window. "Seriously, I'll hang up."

Billy and Stu exchange a look. They're here, trying to get you past something only you think is an issue, and you're still on the fucking phone. Who could be that important?

"No! You are so not talking to them."

There's a brief silence as you wander back towards your bed. The growing discomfort in Billy's chest wins his silent, internal argument. "Who wants to talk to us?"

At that, you finally pause, breeziness briefly leaving your eyes as you look at him. That look pinches at Billy's flightiness and soothes a part of him that he doesn't quite get. You're so good at that, at detecting whatever you want in him. The inability to twist and fully control your perception of him is overwhelming sometimes. Too similar to the way that his mom could--

"Hallie." Your normal expression has come back, like it always does. The awareness that Billy doubts you understand outside of a subconscious level never lingers on your face. But your voice delivers the answer so gently it feels like an olive branch. "You've subjected her to a super long rant about your betrayal."

Despite all the aggression you forced into your words, that relaxes something in them both. Hallie--the completely harmless childhood best friend that's still in Texas. States away, way too far to come between the three of you, even if she wanted to.

"Hallie," Stu repeats, and Billy can feel Stu's shift to something much more genuine. "The super hot girl from your vacation pho--"

"Do not start." You hold up a finger in warning and there's something in the reaction. You'd deny it if anyone ever brought it up, but Stu's noticed the way you get when he goes out of the way to hit on anyone. Even Tatum. You're subtle about, but you get a little quieter as you pick at your nails or try to focus on something else. This time, though, there's none of that, just a bit of urging annoyance. "She has a big enough head as is."

There's a sound from the other line and you roll your eyes. "What? It's true." You're listening to whatever's on the other end intently. "Okay--fine--bye, loser." Another wave of chatter from the other line. "Uh--it's--" You glance over at the two boys still lingering in the corner. "Love you, too. Bye."

You hang up, making a point of keeping your back to them as you set the receiver back onto the machine on your nightstand.

Stu breaks, laughing once. You snap your head in his direction. "Shut up."

Stu takes a tentative step towards you, already liking how quickly you're easing. Maybe all you needed was to feel a little more in control by ranting to someone that isn't here. "Why don't you ever tell me you love me?"

You glare at Stu's exaggerated pout. "You do not get to make fun of me while I'm mad at you." You stand a little straighter. "Why are you guys even here?"

"Not making fun of you." Stu reaches your bed, flopping onto your mattress like he lives with you. He casually picks up a fluffy pillow and squeezes it to his chest. "Genuinely hurt that you don't love us."

Confusion cracks at your annoyance, "Us?"

"If you said 'I love you' to grumpy before me, I don't wanna know." He squeezes the pillow a little tighter, turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut like he can't take the agony. "Too painful, bug."

You cross your arms again, eyes awkwardly falling to the ground. It's not Stu's dramatics that get to you, but you never like it when anyone reduces Billy into something negative and angsty. "He's not grumpy."

"Oh, defensive." Stu absentmindedly weaves his fingers through the pillow's layer of fluff. "Didn't think you'd still care."

You sigh, annoyed at his passive aggressiveness as if they didn't come to your room while fully aware of how mad you are. "That's dramatic, even for you."

"Is it?" Billy mumbles the question, low and almost unsure. "We--we weren't sure if you'd talk to us again."

The comment leaves you feeling like the intruding force. Something about their somber mood makes it seem like you're what's unfitting even though they came to your room. "Just because I'm mad right now doesn't mean I'll be mad forever."

You're not sure you could be. Sure, you have other friends you really care about, but they're all linked to Billy and Stu. They're dating Sid and Tatum and Randy's usually with the group. It's not that you think the three of them would cut you off, but it wouldn't be the same. And even if everything without Billy and Stu could be perfect, you still wouldn't be happy. Not fully.

You'd miss them, miss the way that Stu can always make you laugh no matter how you're feeling and how comforting Billy's presence can be. They might really push boundaries sometimes, but they're still your best friends.

"I get that you--" Sighing, you scratch the back of your wrist. "Hallie and I were talking about it and she reminded me that you guys have good intentions, and I get that, but this is the second time I have to find out that you threatened someone behind my back."

Stu's moved onto his side, head propped up on an elbow as he watches you. Billy's still lingering near the window. Both of them are quiet and that's getting to you. "I'm not a little kid and I don't need you guys to approve of everyone I'm friends with."

"They didn't want to be friends with you." There's no argument in Stu's voice or aggression, just a factual flatness that leaves your face hot.

You shift your weight from one foot to the other. Noel wanting more than friendship's something that makes sense. He was flirty, you went out on a date, and he's known for being an insensitive player. But Jack didn't seem like that at all. Sure, he's a quarterback and hangs out with the guys that never shut up during class, but he had a reason to study with you. Your english teacher assigned him to be tutored by you because his grades were dropping to the point where his coach was threatening to bench him. Sure, he was nice to you, but that's probably because he was worried about his grade. No star player wants to be benched during recruiting season.

The implication also leaves a hard feeling in your stomach. It picks at an insecurity that rooted itself into you around that time in middle school where kids pair up and start dating. Naivety is a weak spot when it comes to teenagers and your inexperience translates into that. Part of it is your mom, the way she's been open about what it meant to become a mom at 17. The rest of it is genuine interest and practicality. You want to go to Princeton, dating is distracting and you haven't really met anyone you like enough to sacrifice studying or time with your friends.

And it doesn't bother you. Not usually. You know life is long and eventually the whole relationship thing will click and work its way to you, probably with some college guy that's majoring in something artsy, but then things like this come up and it makes you feel so stupid.

"Doesn't matter what they want." That feels like a mature enough answer, and it's not a lie. Teenage boys want sex. You're not so out of the loop that that's some kind of revelation. But what they want or think they're getting doesn't change you. "I'm not an idiot and I'm not that naive."

Even if you were, it's not their business to get involved without you asking. For all they know, maybe you want to hook up with someone. That's your choice, not theirs. "And even if I was, it's still my choice."

Billy angles his head downwards, eyes a little darker than you remember them being. "So our big crime is not wanting you to get hurt?"

Ugh. That's more or less the argument Hallie made while playing the devil's advocate. It must have taken a lot for Hallie to defend anyone that isn't you, but she knew that blowing up your friendship with Billy and Stu over a guy you barely knew would only hurt you more in the long run.

"It's--" Trying to explain your issue with the situation is getting exhausting. They're not capable of focusing on anything besides their intentions. "It's a boundaries thing. You can't threaten anyone you don't like into not talking to me behind my back."

Stu's sitting up now, the plush pillow on his lap. "We didn't think of it that way, angel. We just--we know those guys and know what they're like and what you're like, and--" He's fidgeting, fingers tangling into the synthetic hairs of the pillow. "We don't want anything happening to you."

The sentiment's there, forced out almost shyly. It's almost enough to distract you from the weird intensity there. Something happening to you. Over some guy. You get that heartbreak can be a pretty intense thing, but it can't be that bad.

"Nothing's--" You cut yourself off with a sigh. At this rate, they'll eventually be more protective than your mom. They're both weirdly quiet. "What's the big deal if I'm 'hurt' by some stupid guy? It's not like I'd lose it and stop talking to my friends or like it'd effect us or...anything."

Billy lets out a low scoff. The sound is so cold and unlike him you don't know how to react. "Really?"

You hesitate before reminding yourself that it's still just Billy. "...Yeah?" The single syllable falls flat. "I mean...why would it?"

Billy steps forward. "All it took for me to lose--" The sudden movement makes you stiffen until he sits at the foot of your bed, next to Stu. "My mom was her being hurt by some 'stupid guy'.'

Stu freezes. There are a lot of ways this could have gone, but he didn't think that Billy would drop that. Not tonight, with the way Billy tiptoes around his mom's absence and the reason behind it. It's not the kind of thing he'd throw away just to get you to make up with them a little faster...and the rawness in Billy's voice...

Jack might have to end up on their call list anyway.

You're silent as you study them with an expression that would be completely unreadable if it wasn't for the tiny crease between your eyebrows. Billy's hinted at stuff with his mom before, but the way he talked about her always framed her in a way that made it seem like she had passed. You also didn't think he'd ever say anything about what happened so bluntly...or that something that seemed so small to you could have been forcing him to think about those things.

Billy's eyes are focused on nothing in particular, one of his knees pressed against Stu's. His insides feel like they're at war with each other. That bleeding honesty took over with no warning and it's blinding him to everything else. The reminder of the abandonment gnaws at him.

The mattress dips. You don't know what the right way to react is. While this makes their behavior make a little more sense, that doesn't make your point wrong. They did overstep. But that's nowhere near as heavy as Billy's thing. And it couldn't have been easy for Stu to watch his best friend's life fall apart over something like that.

There's something you should say, you're almost sure of it, but nothing feels good enough. Pointing out the differences in the situation feels callous and any promises you could make would likely make it seem like you blame his mom. You might not know much about their relationship, but the way Billy talks about her, like her memory's this fragile thing, you know better than to risk it. An apology also doesn't feel like the right answer, you haven't done anything wrong and you don't want to risk bringing up the fight.

You stretch out a hand silently, letting your fingertips brush against the back of his palm. He briefly tenses, but doesn't move away, so you take it as an okay to rest your hand over his.

Your touch is warm and unexpected, an anchor Billy's torn between latching onto and running away from. It's overwhelming, the amount of influence you have over him. Sometimes if he thinks too much about how that uncertainty feels he has to fight to not hold it against you.

"I know it's..." Billy speaks slowly, trying to force himself to believe what he's saying, or at least, focus on it enough to act like he does. "Different, it just..."

You brush your pointer finger across his knuckles. "I know." A warmth that's hard to accept burns through his chest. Billy turns his hand over before loosely linking your fingers together. "Just boundaries, okay?"

Billy nods, a bit more color returning to his face. You straighten your spine to look past Billy's shoulder and at Stu. "That goes for you, too."

"You've got it, babe."

"That means no more threatening guys just because they talked to me." You keep your expression serious in an attempt to stare down Stu. It's probably no where near as menacing as you want it to be. "I'm serious."

He lifts an arm to his chest, drawing an uneven cross over his heart. "Scout's Honor."

You roll your eyes. "You were never a boy scout."

Stu frowns, "How would you know?"

It's not so much information as it is his vibe. Stu seems way too active and focused on what he'd find fun to have wanted to stick to boy scouting and you doubt his parents have ever been around enough to make him. But that's way too much to answer his question with. "Were you?"

"Ye--"

"He got kicked out," Billy interjects, "After terrorizing a camping trip."

You laugh before you can stop yourself. It's easy to picture Stu a little younger and a lot more impulsive. "That tracks."

"Fuck off," he mumbles before slumping down until he's flat on his back.

Billy turns his head, giving you a look that seems to ask why you two put up with him. The expression is so familiar you can't help your relief. You're still a little rightfully annoyed at them, but the desire to keep them lighter beats that irritation out by an inch. "What'd he do?"

The real answer isn't anything too traumatic, but it involved newly learned pocket knife skills, a frog, and a pathetically squirmish tent mate. But that's not the kind story of you'd be particularly into. It might even make you a little more closed off. They learned early on that while you might be able to handle most scary movies and gore like a champ, you draw a line at anything happening to an animal.

"Imagine that at age 10." Billy vaguely gestures in Stu's direction, Stu lifts an arm to shove Billy. "What didn't he do?" You smile, a little more amused than you want to be. "And you've seen his house...the way he lives..."

Another wave of laughter rises up your throat before you can help it. The implication that Stu was too spoiled to get through a camping trip is a little too fitting.

Stu groans, reaching back for the fluffy pillow. He smacks Billy's arm with it, a passive display of aggression. "It was not like that." Stu turns his neck, "Don't listen to him."

You laugh again, briefly forgetting that you're still supposed to be annoyed with them as you lay down. "I've been to your house, your bathroom has more amenities than a hotel, so I believe him."

He twists his neck to glare at you. It's more of a pout than anything else. "You have a hundred things in your bathroom."

Stu's technically right, but it's different. He's counting in your perfectly reasonable--and reasonably(ish)--priced makeup, skin care, and hair stuff. Not all things you use everyday or necessarily need, but it's different. He has fancy hand soap that leaves skin extra soft and lotion for guests that's nicer than anything you own for yourself. "You're deflecting."

He scoffs, "Can't hear you over the beauty store in your bathroom."

It's said so seriously it circles back to kind of ridiculous. Especially because of how pointless it is. You wrinkle your nose, fighting down a grin. "That doesn't make sense."

Stu's lips part like he's going to instinctually jump to defend himself. Your smile stops him. "It doesn't."

After a beat, the two of you exchange a look and laugh. Billy sighs, shoving Stu's leg and your arm. "You two aren't funny."

"Maybe you're just boring."

Billy looks over at you, glaring. "Really?"

You nod, a little too smug. "Really."

"Don't listen to him." Stu halfheartedly pushes Billy. In retaliation, Billy extends an arm without looking, grabbing Stu's forearm in a way that, to you, looks surprisingly gentle. "He's jealous."

You smile as Stu sits up. "I can so see that."

Billy's eyebrows draw together. "Jealous of what?"

"Our not-boringness." You push yourself so that you're sitting again.

"Yeah, you two are super cool and not weird."

Scoffing, you pull your legs onto the bed and cross them beneath you. "I'm not weird."

Billy tilts his head in the direction of your desk. "How many sticky notes are in--"

"You promised not to use that against me." You cut him off, not overly thrilled at the mention of sticky notes. Early on in your friendship, he found you going through your locker while you were sorting through sticky note and highlighter combos for homework.

His eyebrows pull together, his nose wrinkling a little in a way that's painfully endearing and surprisingly casual. "I promised not to tell anyone." He angles himself towards you, tilting his head downwards. The movements were subtle, but something about the shift makes him feel a lot closer than before. "That's different."

Your breath tangles itself in your throat at his lower tone. You need to say something, because if you don't you'd just be staring and that's--You force out the first thing you can think of, "Technicality."

"Still counts." There's nothing else you can think of and he still feels closer than normal. Before your thoughts can turn into total panic, Billy turns towards Stu, who's digging through his backpack. "What are you doing?"

"Almost forgot." Stu finds what he's looking for. It's small from where you're sitting. He reaches behind Billy's bag to extend whatever he's holding towards you. "Here."

A bag of gummy candies. You take it skeptically, because it's been twisted shut oddly. Smoothing out the wrinkled plastic, you open the bag and look at the contents. A part of you is surprised that it actually does have gummies...only they all look the same. Confused, you shake the bag once and the candies move, confirming it is what it looks like. They're all your favorite.

"I don't like the red ones," he mumbles, not quite looking at you, "But you do, right?"

You grin, pulling a gummy bear out of the bag and biting off its head to put it out of its misery humanely. "The red ones are the best, you're weird for that."

He scoffs, "The cute ones always have bad taste."

"I think you're complimenting yourself with that one." You pop the rest of the gummy into your mouth. "Orange lover."

"The orange ones are objectively--"

"They're all the acidic parts of a real orange without the orangey-ness."

Billy looks over at you. "Orangey-ness?" He's convinced he's heard this argument more times than anyone else alive, but your points are usually a little better.

You glare, pulling another gummy out of your bag. "You're not a part of this, you like the pineapple ones."

Stu laughs, "He also likes grape flavored stuff."

You gasp like Stu just outed Billy as a criminal. "No way."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles, already tired, "Make fun of me."

And after a second, he realizes that he really means it. If you're not mad at them, he can handle it.

----

A/n i never know if i should use the final girl tag list for fics that are set in the final girl world (if that makes sense), bc it's an update technically but also not bc it's not the main fic??

idk i've seen other writers on here tag for more than just the main fic and i'm always happy to be tagged in stuff but idk if that's for everyone lol,, lmk if you have any thought!

#scream x reader #final girl fic #scream 1996 #stu macher #stu macher x reader #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #ghostface #ask #poly! ghostface #poly!ghostface x reader

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Heeey

Hope u're doing well

Please can I request a connor stoll x reader one shot where the mom (the reader) is going out with friends after all the pregnancy period, and it is the first time Connor is taking care of the baby all by himself for the evening

Have a good day

Can't believe that this was the request that brought me out of my writing slump lol. I have so many requests that I'm trying to write for right now and I figured people would rather have a short blurb than nothing at all, so this is only like 0.8k words. Sorry babes, hope you enjoy. Xx

pizza night--- Connor Stoll x reader [parent fic]

»»————-　★　————-««

-First of all Connor would be literally the best dad ever.

-I mean, like, obviously your baby would grow up knowing far too many swear words and probably ties people's shoes together when they're not looking, but no ones actually surprised.

-You would be able to take the cutest photos of your baby asleep on his chest in front of the tv or dancing in the kitchen while dinner cooked [you know when little kids stand on your feet and you hold their hands to dance? He would do that]. 

-He’d also for the first time not steal from a lolly shop when he takes the baby and lets them pick out the lollies from the pick and mix tubs. He’d hold the baby up like Simba at the start of The Lion King. You know the scene. 

-But that’s after the baby stops crying every night and can wear shoes that totally have little wings drawn on them. 

-When you’re laying on the couch eating ice cream with sprinkles and Connor is cleaning up baby vomit or something and your friends start spamming the group chat to get your attention, you’d just ignore it to begin with.

-Who wants to go out when there’s a screaming two week old baby at home and you’ve got cramps absolutely everywhere? To go and talk about babies when you literally never want to explain why you chose the name you did and why the baby is wearing a Lightning McQueen onesie [Cecil].

-But Connor hears the pings of your phone and [after turning it off so as to not wake the baby] he decides that you're going to have a great night out with your friends who would have to promise no baby talk or strenuous exercise. 

-So you’re all dressed up in comfortable clothing and flat shoes [no post pregnant person is walking around in stilettos, and you might be amazing, but you’re not that amazing], ready to go out for a night of gossip and drinks, or pizza and relaxing, depending on your mood, when you realize that this would be the first time Connor is on baby duty without you pottering around the house somewhere or napping. 

-He promises that everything will be fine and if the baby doesn’t go to bed he’ll just call Clovis over. 

-He then had to promise that he will not in fact put a spell on the newborn and will be very responsible and baby you don’t have to worry he’s been watching youtube tutorials on this stuff for eight months and seven days. 

-On a completely unrelated note, you found out you were pregnant about eight months and seven days ago.

-So you’re pushed out the door into your friend's car and Connor realizes he should probably take advantage of the fact the baby is sleeping in the other room to prepare for what would hopefully be an uneventful night.

-He mixes together the milf formula and leaves it in the fridge before ordering pizza. Take out or baked goods that his siblings dropped off while they zoomed around the city going to and from whatever it was they were doing had become the go to for meals since baby duty became the main concern and most food burnt on the stove in minutes. 

-Connor always orders meatlovers, but picks the sausage bits off and puts mushrooms on top. 

-It’s the best.

-Unfortunately babies can’t eat the greatest pizza ever, so after doing the washing and tidying up the utter chaos of your three bedroom house [one for you and Connor, one for your kid, and the spare room for Travis. Connor had one at Travis’s apartment too], ringing the hospital to book in that check up appointment for a few days away, paying the pizza delivery girl, and sitting down for approximately four minutes until the baby began crying, he took the milk out of the fridge and went to the living room. 

-Connor held the baby with one arm, wiping drool off the tiny onesie, and turned on the TV. Luckily for him, your baby loved watching the colors move and make noise. 

-You were adamant about not raising an Ipad KidTM, but he figured Netflix was an exception. 

-He looked down for the baby's reaction when pausing on each movie.

-A bored gurgle at Lightning McQueen [Cecil would riot], a blank stare at Taylor Swift’s new movie, and then a screaming fit when he played the trailer for The Hunger Games [probably not a good idea to begin with] and he moved onto better half of his favorite movies. 

-He pressed play on an all time classic.

-Connor’s child needed to have impeccable taste, or he just might ignore them until they tried to take over the world.

-Too soon?

“Life moves pretty fast, if you don’t stop to look around once in a while, you just might miss it.”

»»————-　★　————-««

#sorry that last part was kinda #too soon? #I just had to add it though #the Hermes Cabin are literally my children though I would write anything for htem #pjo fandom #pjo #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #Connor Stoll x reader #connor stoll x you #hermes cabin #travis stoll #cecil markowitz #Luke castellan #the Stoll brothers #Connor Stoll x y/n

[sixosix]

(so… that ask about the potion made me think… and when you brought up plastic flowers, it kinda clicked and i kinda had brain rot in between my final exam and IRL stuff- figured i’d at least try! Look at me mashing things together like play-dough and pretending it makes sense, so please pardon any writing or spelling/grammer mistakes! I like to write but i’m not really a fanfic writer, and not confident on my grasp of any characters! Plus i threw this together in like a few days - deadman aether anon)

You look happier.

No… that isn’t exactly it.

You may be more open with your emotions now, but that doesn’t necessarily mean happiness. The few glances Lyney gets of you during his street performances show you as focused, stressed in some way if not tired. Running around the streets of Fontaine for whatever task your job seemed to require of you at that time. He hasn’t seen you laughing in joy or with a wide cheek-to-cheek grin on your face.

But you seem more relaxed. You don’t have a constant guard up anymore. There may still be tension and stress in your posture, but it's not the kind a soldier has. Just the constantly present worries of making ends meet.

Lighter.

You look lighter. 

Like you no longer carry the weight of your past sins on your back. 

Which makes sense.

After all, how can one carry that weight if they have no memory of it?

He knows something happened between you and Father; even if she refused to tell him exactly what happened the one time he dared to ask, brushing it off for a later time. Any attempts to try to get answers out of the flower shop owner; mother, you called her your mother; also failed, only resulting in a bittersweet look in the woman’s eyes. 

All he knows is by the time he managed to find out their location, he found you standing in front of the Knave and the tied up woman. Downing something like it was hard liquor, before handing back the little bottle to Arlecchino with a grim but resolute look on your face. 

Nothing odd seemed to happen after you drank it. No longer the star of the show, but apart of the audience, he could only watch in anxious bewilderment as you walked past the harbinger without even receiving a second glance in return. Able to free Rosalie without even the Fauti guards nearby saying a word. As the two of you had started to leave, Lyney had tried approach you again. To discover what happened or to beg for you to trust him, to trust in his genuine feelings for you… he doesn’t know. 

But you only walked past him with the same resolve you had with Father. Even Rosalie only glanced at him, opening her mouth to say something only to shut it and continue walking with you. Lyney had barely managed to reassure himself with the fact that you were unharmed, that he could try to approach you at a different time despite Arlecchino’s orders to stop contact.

Gods, he’ll always regret arriving too late, till the end of his days he’ll never forgive himself.

When Father informed him and his siblings of the fact you no longer had any memories of the Fauti, his heart broke. 

No… no, you won’t have, right? You won’t have chosen to forget everything. Not Cecilia, not Freminet, or Lynette or even the rest of the family. Not- not him.

Lyney always has to bite back the thought that they hadn’t been your family for years at that point. 

But with how you acted when Rosalie was kidnapped…

He can’t even blame you like he had when you first left. If it was the only way, he would gave up his memories in a heart beat if it meant his family would be safe. 

Gods, if only Lyney could hate you for this. But the only thing he hasn’t been able to successfully trick as been his heart.

Originally, after the confrontation he stumbled on, he had wanted to come up with a plan. Some sort of way to work around Arlecchino’s orders and make contact. Sure, he would have to start from the beginning again, but he was willing. For you, he’d do it. He’d do anything for you.

But this, this was hitting rock bottom and grabbing a shovel to dig deeper.

When he first saw you after everything, the words had died in his throat as he watched an unburdened you hurrying through the crowds with a goal in mind. It felt just like it had when you had gotten drunk at the party, and just like before, he couldn’t bring himself to call out to you. To press you for details and answers, to figure out what little memories you had left, to try and woo you, to try to put a blush on your cheeks. 

So, Lyney settled.

He settled with passing glances, watching you in the distance. Settled for not being a major role in the opera of your life but a member of the audience. Even at the knowing looks he gained from Lynette and Freminet when he changed the location of his street performances, he couldn’t help himself. He futilely tried to convince his heart that this was fine. As long as he could still see you, as long as you were ok, that he could settle with crumbs instead of a full meal.

Only for all his efforts to come undone the moment Lyney saw you standing in the crowd.

Like a starved, feral animal, all his feelings came bubbling forth when he realized you joined the tail end of the performance. He would swear to anyone who asked that the only reason he didn’t come undone like at the Opera House is because of the continued exposure he got, as little as it was. 

Seeing you, looking up at him, starstruck despite the fact he isn’t doing a single trick at that moment, just advertising his and Lynette’s next show…

His resolve crumbles into dust, and the spare flower he keeps on hand to charm the citizens of Fontaine feels heavy in its hiding spot. 

In the end, he never really could stop himself when it came to you, could he?

The noises of the remaining crowd members just turn into an incomprehensible buzz at that point, he doesn’t even hear the apology he gives out with a theatrical bow as he sees you getting farther and farther away. The moment the necessities of politeness are done,  he darts off after your distant figure, everything unrelated fading to the background. 

“Wait, wait!”

Unlike the past three times he has called out to you like this, you stop.  Lyney hears his heart pounding in his ears, joy rising as he watches you turn around. He barely notices you looking around in a panic, wondering why someone like him is calling out to you because all he can think about in that moment is that you stayed.

You, in all your glory, stayed. 

“Hello…” you murmur reluctantly as he comes to a stop. Despite that, he can’t help the smile that comes to his face.

Well, third times the charm, isn’t it?

- you only put this together after a few days?? 😭😭 youre incredible (cut below is me losing my mind line after line thank you very much)

- ‘lighter. you look lighter.’ IM GPING TO SOBB 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 LYNEYYY 😭😭😭😭

- “Gods, he’ll always regret arriving too late, till the end of his days he’ll never forgive himself.” NOOOOOO MY POOR BOY 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 he did nothing wrong my heart aches for him AAUGHH IM SAD FOR HIM U WROTE HIM SO WELL

- “Lyney always has to bite back the thought that they hadn’t been your family for years at that point. “ im srsly going crazy. MY DOOMED FAMILY my babies 😭

- “Gods, if only Lyney could hate you for this. But the only thing he hasn’t been able to successfully trick as been his heart.” I have been shot.

- “Settled for not being a major role in the opera of your life but a member of the audience.” OKAY OKAY I GET IT ILL JUMP OFF

- “In the end, he never really could stop himself when it came to you, could he?” i have fainted on the floor

- THE WAY IT SO SMOOTHLY CHANGES TO THE BEGINNING OF PLASTIC FLOWERS WOOOWWW I HAD TO PAUSE AND CLAP. I HAD TO TAKE A BREATH……… that was so seamless i didnt even realize it until i thought the “wait wait” and the “hello…” was familiar

- YOU ARE SUCH AN INCREDIBLE WRITER WOW. im stunned. you have such a way with words ☹️🙏 the way u wrote lyneys train of thought and feelings I CANT BELIEVE THERES FANFIC OF THAWED and i cant believe the first fanfic of it is this it is SO GOOD i ate this up this was literally my breakfast i have been fed well by your immense skill

#WOW. WOWWOWOOW. #LIKE???? #606: THAWED

[torakan]

part one

i decided to write it down because why not

also, english isn’t my native language, so if there’re some mistakes, please tell me in the comments

the art

Okay, so you probably wonder why I even started talking, right? Why begin telling my story? Well, simply because I find it quite interesting and very unusual for our kind. So, if you’d like, I’ll probably start…

So, when I was about 18 years old, I’ve been already living all by myself since I was accidentally taken away from my family when humans with whom we were living moved away. I had to adapt a lot since I didn’t really want to die haha… but I survived and now I’m all healthy and wealthy so there’s no need to worry.

After a year they changed home again because they were having a baby or something. I didn’t care all that much to remember. However, this time I remained at that building since nobody had seen me yet and I had already had kind of a home in the walls. It would’ve been such a pain in the ass to adapt again, you know?

Living in an apartment was nice and it was a lot easier to walk around than in countryside houses for an obvious reason - distance. When I had been living in a huge residence, borrowing a bit of food could’ve taken ages to accomplish, but in smaller one it took just a few hours while the human was outside or asleep.

The bean I lived with was a guy around my age, maybe a little older since, as I heard, it’s a common practise for humans to separate themselves from their parents at the age of 21. I didn’t know his name, but from the glimpses I caught of him, he was quite a pretty one, though a bit dark, he has always been wearing black clothes. I mean, me too, but mine were just old and dirty, I didn’t really have a choice. He was quiet, didn’t invite too many people and stuck to his schedule most of the time, so I was lucky to be there. Until that day came…

That day the last bits of food I had were over, so I had to find something to not die of starvation. I was stupid enough to go borrowing during the day, but before you say something, I need you to give me some credit! I knew for sure that he would’ve not been at home till late hours, so I had plenty of time to do that and I was hungry, so it wasn’t completely my fault, right?

My way to the kitchen counter, where the most accessible food was kept, lay through the bookshelf where some books, plants and other strange stuff stood. I liked it there, it was the darkest spot in the room, a nice place for hiding and the guy has never looked there. So, I took my standard borrowing gear – the rope with a hook in it, old ass boots with double-sided tape on them and a bag to put food in there – and was already all set to go, when I heard a click. That could’ve meant only one thing – the human was back. Why did that even happen in the first place, I didn’t know, but it remained a solid fact and I had to run away and hide despite everything. I hid in that dark spot just in time when that guy entered the kitchen. My heart was jumping in my chest as fast as a captured bird, it was so scary, you guys can’t even imagine… I was carefully watching a human moving around – he was preparing food and some tea as quickly as possible while talking on the phone with someone. But because my heart was thumping so loudly in my chest, all his words sounded muffled as if I was under water and I didn’t catch what he was saying. What I knew for sure - he must’ve been in a huge hurry.

And suddenly, I stopped breathing – the bean disappeared from my view, and I didn’t know whether he left the room or just sat down or wasn’t in the house anymore in general. All I could do was pray for my own safety, but apparently, I was too small for whoever rules this world to hear my prayers. I swear to god, I almost lost my shit there when a huge eye appeared in my sight covering everything I could see before. I was spotted by a human and not only that, but I was also alone and with no place to run away to. All I could do, apart from jut die then and there, was to hide behind a book and silently cry from hopelessness of this situation.

“Oh!” I heard human saying. No wonder he was surprised, I would’ve been too if I saw something I only heard about from tales, like a fairy or something.

But that voice was finally a trigger for me to start moving at least, because before all I could do was to stare back and hope him to think I was a doll or at least a figment of his imagination. I picked all my things and ran away with a speed of a fucking sound, or at least I tried my best to.

“No, wait!” the guy spoke again. “Please, don’t be scared… I mean no harm…”

Yeah, sure, and I’m a princess Cinderella.

When I finally had a chance to go out of that spot, it was already nighttime, and the human was asleep. My body was weak from all those hours it trembled in fear and didn’t have any food or water. It was also kind of a good thing since I wouldn’t have had access to the toilet, you know what I mean?

By the time I got to the place where I live, I was no better than a walking zombie, so all I did was plop down on the bed and pray it was just a nightmare.

next

#g/t #g/t community #borrowers #gt community #gt writing #giant tiny #giant/tiny #tiny #light angst #angst with a happy ending #ocs #oc

[milawritesstuff]

hiii please write some pedri angst with a happy ending like they have this big fight and the reader leaves but the next day at training while talking with gavi he realizes how much he needs her and goes to find her thank uu

A/N: I have so many ideas and sometimes I can’t get anything in writing so I just start to write and hope the story takes form. This is one of those stories. Hope you like it.

Warnings: none

•••

You sat At Pedri’s table going through your textbooks trying to suck up as much information as possible. You had been studying all day at his house while he played video games in the living room. You had taken a quick lunch break and then gone right back to your books.

As you turned the page you heard Pedri’s footsteps and then felt his arms go around your waist from behind. He gave you a kiss on your cheek and then rested his chin on your left shoulder.

“When are you going to be done? I’m bored” he said.

“Pedro, I told you I’m really nervous about this test. In fact I don’t know how I’ll be able to sleep tonight I am so stressed out.”

He began to leave small kisses on your neck and as much as you wanted to give in and close shut your textbooks you knew what your priority was. You let him leave a few more kisses as you reached for your phone, which had been sitting face down on Pedri’s table all afternoon, only to realize it was already 10pm. “Oh my god Pedri. I have to go home. It’s already so late and my test is early tomorrow morning.”

“Are you kidding me?” He growled as he let go of you and began to pace around the dinning room. “Im sorry, are you mad?” You asked as you packed up your stuff and sensed a bit of annoyance in his tone. “You spent all day just sitting here with those books Y/N. What was the point of you coming over? For that rushed lunch?”

“I’m sorry Pedro but I wouldn’t have been able to see you at all today if I hadn’t studied. This is a very important tests and I’m really nervous.”

“I know, you’ve said it a million times already.” He spat back. You stood there dumbfounded because Pedri had never talked to you that way. You decided to ignore him and started to walk towards the door. You had so much to deal with and you would deal with him another day.

At least that was your plan until Pedri couldn’t keep quiet. “Why do you even care anyway? We’re gonna get married and you won’t need to work. I’m going to take care of you.”

His words stopped you dead in your track “That’s your plan?” You asked him.

“It’s not yours?” He asked almost surprised.

“I’m not some gold digger, Pedro.”

“That’s not how I meant it.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

He stood there in silence.

“I just don’t know why you spend all day studying. I can’t even see you sometimes when I have my days off because you’re at uni. I could have gone out with my friends today instead of being stuck inside just waiting for a second of your time.”

You wanted to walk out of his apartment and just go home but your pride got in the way, like always. You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. He knew how proud you were of your achievements and it really pissed you off that he seemed not to care at this moment.

“So I should just drop everything when Mr Pedro Gonzalez has some time for me?” You ask. “What about when you leave for days with the team. I’m just supposed to be sitting here waiting for you to come back home and kiss the floor you walk on?”

“I leave for work. My job is the team. My job is what’s going to pay our bills.” He explained.

You scoffed. “Your job isn’t more important than my school Pedro. And your career isn’t going to pay my bills, I am.”

You turned around and began to walk towards the door. When your hand made contact with the doorknob and you began to twist it you heard Pedri. “If you walk out right now, it’s over.”

His words crushed you. You didn’t dare turn around. You knew this wasn’t just from today. The two of you had been digging at each other for weeks. He had been gone for a few weeks with the national team and when he came back you had been consumed with your studying. When you finally got some free time his family had been in town and he hardly had any time for you. Everything had been so fast paced lately and you yearned for some quality time with your boyfriend but you had come to the realization that this would be your life if you stayed with him. His career was just starting and even if you two got married and had kids he would still be gone on trips frequently and his career would always have to come before yours.

You gulped as you felt a tear fall from your eye making its way down your cheek and towards your chin. “I thought I had made it clear we were over Pedro when I said your career wasn’t going to pay my bills.” You finished turning the knob of his front door and walked outside.

You half hoped he would come running behind you and pull you back in. Telling you he was sorry and didn’t mean anything. You also half hoped he would not do that. That he would let you walk out of his life like this and the two of you would never have to turn back. And as you took another step and didn’t hear his footsteps behind you, you knew which option Pedri had chosen. And it killed you.

The next morning Pedri was in a bad mood. He had a bad practice and as he and his teammates walked back to the locker room he looked at his phone. He had hoped to get a message from you but of course he hadn’t. And he knew it too because you weren’t one to say sorry first. He took out his clothes and closed his locker. He stood there and punched the door.

“Hey, hey what’s going on?” Said his friend Gavi who was now next to him.

“I think I fucked it up with Y/N.” He said.

“What happened?”

“We broke up last night.” He said.

“What? But didn’t we just go look at rings for her?” Asked Gavi surprised.

“Maybe I was wrong Pablo. Maybe she’s not the one.”

“But you’re clearly upset Pedro. If she wasn’t the one you wouldn’t be acting like this.” Gavi talked some sense into his friend. “Tell me what happened?”

Pedri went on to tell his friend what happened the night before. He thought Gavi would be on his side but he was wrong. “I can’t believe you told her that.” Said Gavi.

“Excuse me, aren’t you my friend? Why are you taking her side?”

“Because you’re a dumbass.” Said Gavi. “How could you say that to her?”

“I was annoyed. She has been paying more attention to uni than to me.”

“What if she had told you that your career didn’t matter?” Asked Gavi. “She can’t say that.” Spat Pedri back.

Gavi rolled his eyes. “You have a problem my friend. You either show her some respect or actually if you’re going to act like this just leave her alone.”

Pedri couldn’t go home that afternoon because he was just thinking about you. He ended up driving around the city until he reached the port. He parked his car and began to walk around thinking of a way to say sorry to you. Finally he sat on a bench and made the dreaded call.

Y: hello?

P: I’m sorry.

Y: Pedro, I don-

He interrupted you.

P: I’m sorry for being an asshole. I want you to know that I - I’ll take care of you if want to. If you don’t then I won’t. But I still want to be with you.

You laughed.

P: But I - I love you Y/N. Can we please forget about last night?

Y: Pedri, I’m also sorry. I just, I miss you so much and we have been fighting on and off and I’m stressed with my exams. Maybe I overreacted.

P: Can we just forget about last night?

Y: Please.

P: Can I come pick you up?

Y: Yes.

#pedri gonzalez #pedri imagine #pedri x reader #pedri #pedri requests

[anglingforlevels]

Yours (Reader x Platonic Yandere!Imposter)

I can't walk on my knee, and apparently, knee-pain is the best motivator to write because I sat down and wrote this. Not sure if it makes sense, but alas.

CW: Yandere, monsterfuckery, reader has a brother, mental anguish, straight up no one has a good time in this story, not proofread, dead dove

Minors DNI

Today was an important day.

You hadn’t slept very well, still exhausted to the bone. Nonetheless, you had dressed up nicely for the occasion. A certain anxiety flittering and forcing you to fiddle around with trinkets and empty frames. You really should find a picture for that frame, then again, pictures was always more your brother’s thing.

The unrest culminated in said empty frame receiving a crash course in gravity, repaying the favor by glass shattering across the floor.

Damnit.

“Breaking the apartment?”

You were immediately faced with that question when you sheepishly emerged from your room to search for a broom. Asked by none other than your brother, James, who was lounging comfortably on the sofa, flipping through a magazine, he made a hand motion urging you to come sit too.

“Not yet. I dropped something, alas, my hands must be as smooth as marble, it just rolled right out of them.” You sighed and shrugged, awaiting the usual punchline expectantly. James made the grand sacrifice of looking away from the pages of his magazine to direct a raised eyebrow at you.

“Smooth as what now?” He asked, and your arms dropped, for a moment your expression did too, caught off guard. You collected yourself quickly though.

“Marble. It’s either this lame joke or self-deprecation.” At this, you dramatically sighed and lifted your hand to your forehead, “Oh, it seems even picture frames flees from my touch.”

James wrinkled his nose at this. “Ugh, no, I’d rather have Mx. Marble Hands back then.”

“I’m afraid they’ve perished. Marbled to death. Investigations still ongoing, my money’s on the picture frame.”

“Well, then they kinda had it coming, don’t you think?”

You gasped at this. “Vengeance is never the answer, haven’t you watched any children’s cartoons?”

“Not a child, so no.” He answered dryly. He had been a child at some point, so you weren’t sure what to make of the answer, feeling a bit at a loss, but you powered through.

“Mx. Marble hands deserved better than this. I’d hate to be them right now.”

“I’d hate to be them anytime. Now, please shut up about it and come sit down.”

“Despite how politely you asked, I can’t. Believe it or not – some of us actually have plans.” You said with a joking “hmpf”.

“Whaat, plans? No way.”

“Wha- what’s with the immediate disbelief? Today is an important day. Today’s… It’s…” You furrowed your brow as you faltered, not noticing the way James’ attention sharply focused on you. “…Today is important, isn’t it?”

But why? What was happening today?

“Oh, probably some kind of fight day or independence day? You were always sappy for those.” James laughed, and your expression relaxed as you rolled your eyes at him.

“It’s important to celebrate that kind of stuff.” You laughed, even though it still felt wrong. Feeling restless once more but without knowing what your plans were, you settled on the sofa next to James who abandoned his magazine in an attempt to convince you to play Street Fighter together, though at your continued rejection, he dejectedly played solo, shifting, and settling up against you as he played quietly.

Relishing the comfortable familiarity and domestic bliss, you closed your eyes with a sigh, enjoying the ache of your tired limbs coming to a rest, and most of all, enjoying the quiet. You liked it much better when he didn’t speak. And then, you felt startled at the thought, how mean it felt. You didn’t like the fact you had thought it at all, so you focused on something else.

You glanced at the sole item on the empty wall: The calendar. It was tacky and ugly, but you had some fondness for it, it was the first item you bought when you moved out to live on your own.

No, you didn’t live alone, you lived with James. Right, the first item for when you and James moved out.

You kept glancing though the date felt significant, it didn’t invoke memories of why, and you felt an odd sense of distanced anxiety at this, worried if you were possibly late for whatever your plans was, yet not feeling anywhere enough panic either, settled into lukewarm worry instead.

“You trying to make time fly faster or something?” James asked, not looking away from the video game he was playing (and losing). You looked away from the calendar at that.

“Maybe it’s just that painful to see you repeatedly lose Street Fighter. You know, you can crouch and kick on repeat, right?”

“I have something called integrity and honor.”

You glanced one last time at the calendar, the date keeping captive the corners of your mind, the ones that felt fuzzy and blurry – just out of reach from what you could comprehend. As you finally gave up on the calendar, you noticed the wall.

Had it always been this empty?

Somehow, the sight made you feel uneasy. “Hey James, why don’t we take some pictures?”

“…I really don’t like that kinda stuff. I’ve never understood the craze about phones and cameras.”

“Oh, I get why you’re bad at games now. You’re actually an old man.”

“Aw, shut up.”

You didn’t take notice of the way James looked at you, your own gaze fixed on nothing at all, an ambiguous expression on your face, as if unable to settle on an emotion among your conflicted, confused state. It was a buzzing, prickling sensation, like when regaining feeling in a numb limb, and it felt like you could unearth what these emotions were, if you just, held on a moment longer, if you let the numbness subsize just a little m-

“How about playing a song on the piano?”

“Oh? Uh, I don’t play the piano.” You said, disorientated, the numbness spreading again. James’ face dropped briefly.

“Then why don’t we watch a movie?”

“Yeah. Of course, sure. Can it be Beauty Squad” You answered almost reflexively. Happy for a distraction, you clung onto the suggestion, as if drowning your own senses in familiarity. James’ resigned compliance to your usual movie-choice felt like a warm blanket, a blissful cover.

The fatigue sitting in your bones made you give in to its warm embrace, how long had you been awake? It was hard to tell when being conscious and unconscious all felt the same.

Familiar tones played out, familiar lines, familiar antics. You thought James wouldn’t like you to rest your head in his lap, but he hadn’t said a thing in protest, silently letting you. Only the sounds of the movie filled the room as James absent-mindedly played with strands of your hair.

If this moment could last forever, then maybe everything would be okay. You could close your eyes to this moment and…

The music became chaotic and fast as the main character crashed down into their own graduation ceremony, saying a corny punchline before the cartoonish chase resumed.

“Pfft,” Your laugh caught James’ attention, and of course, he demanded to know what you were laughing at. “Ah, nothing, nothing. It’s just, this scene is just like when you accidentally interrupted your own graduation ceremony to take pictures.”

“…” James didn’t respond for a moment. And you looked at him… Right, he was in high school right now, wasn’t he?

“It’s… It’s nothing.”

You tried not to look at the empty wall.

You stood up. “Hey, the movie’s still going, sit back down.”

It took you a moment to respond, your mouth felt so dry, and a wave of dizziness hit. “I… I just wanted a snack. I’ll be back in a moment.” James looked blankly at you for a moment, and for a moment it felt as if he was examining you, like standing before a judge, and then he nodded.

You walked, part of you protesting needing permission from him to leave, but your mind wasn’t made up either, stuck in the desire to stay but feeling drowned, as if being swallowed by a vastness. You had to leave. To move. Something. Anything.

Drowning in the dark thoughts of your mind, it felt as if it would burst. Part of you wanted it to, tempted to hit your hands against your temple, as if to make everything spill, splash across the floor and far away from you.

Instead, you walked to the kitchen. One step, then the next. You wondered, in these moments, if he knew how it felt to die while breathing, to drown while on land. One step, then the next. It was all you could do.

In the kitchen, you opened the fridge only to be greeted by empty rows. No one had gone grocery-shopping it seemed. Right, that was your job, wasn’t it? Who else could it be? James was… he was a teen, right. Yeah, that’s right, you were alone.

No. Not alone. James was here, just, you were the only adult here. That’s right.

…

Grocery shopping, right. How long had it been since you went grocery shopping? When had you last gone outside? You looked down at yourself. You were dressed nicely. Right. Today was an important day, wasn’t it?

You felt lost and dizzy, seeking something to support yourself, your hand landed on the wall. The empty wall. Why was this wall also so empty? All of them was empty.

You mistook desperation for determination as you began to look through drawers to find an instant camera. You knew James had one lying around here. Your James had so many cameras.

“But James doesn’t like cameras.” You repeated joylessly. Nonetheless, in your hands, an instant camera. On clumsy feet you began to sneak toward the living room. James, unaware of your presence, sat on the sofa, waiting.

Click.

Looking down at the picture. It hadn’t developed yet. You’d find tacks or something so you could hang it. The sofa creaked as James stood up. He had heard the click probably, and noticed you standing awkwardly in the doorway, clutching something to your chest, of course.

You think, in the back of your mind, that James said something, but you head felt light, as you looked at empty walls. Temporarily empty walls. It would be better now, if you could just fill them out, your life could return to normalcy, and you’d return to the ground.

You looked down at the photo in your hand. Shapes were slowly starting to form, making way for imagery. It was only a flash, barked, hollowed skin, wrongly bent joints, and a yellowly glow, then something grabbed tightly onto your wrist, the photo snatched from your hand before it finished developing.

It was James grasping your wrist tightly, pupils dilated and a tight expression on his face. Then he sighed. “Playing spy, are we?” He smiled but the smile felt sharp and tight, and his laugh felt forced and bitter.

“I… I think I need to lie down.”

“Alright.” He nodded, leading you toward the sofa, but you weakly pulled against his grip, shaking your head.

“In my bed.” You needed to get away, his presence felt cloying, and the empty walls felt as if they closed in on you. You needed a moment. He didn’t stop tugging you toward the sofa, your limbs felt too weak to put up any real resistance.

“Don’t be silly. I can watch over you better from the sofa.”

You pulled harshly at his grip. “No!” He stopped and looked at you for a moment. And you felt little under his glance, unable to explain yourself properly. He was trying to help, but it was wrong, something was wrong. The walls was empty, the fridge was empty, the apartment was… “I… Just a moment, I’ll be out in a moment.”

After a moment, he released your wrist. “Okay.”

You stumbled a bit, having unconsciously relied on the support of his grip. It was the same old sensation of falling, yet your feet never left the ground, was it a dive into nothingness, or a flight into something worse? You never learned because each time, like an anchor, you’d be pulled to the harshness of the ground by a hand on your shoulder and another distracting line, it pulled you back but never caught you in your fall.

You wondered where’d you land without an anchor.

You hurried to your room and was greeted with shattered glass. Right. From earlier, you had needed a broom, and you had to hurry because today was an important day. Your foot touched the broken frame.

The empty walls were left behind, but the room felt even smaller, and you felt tired. Too tired to push against the pressure building, letting it swallow and choke you. There had to be… a picture. Something to put in the frame. Why else would you have it?

Looking through bottom drawers and beneath your bed, it was hard to tell if you had dived onto your knee or if they had simply buckled beneath the weight of your own desperation, glass shards dug into skin as you looked through cloudy eyes.

And, in the corner under your bed, hidden away by pieces of cloth and scattered objects, was a little box. You pulled it out, your hands shook as you opened the little lock with practiced ease, as if you knew the box already.

In the box was carefully placed pictures, all wrinkled as if having been held often. On the roof of the box was a date scribbled, today’s date. You were in many of the pictures, sticking your tongue out at whoever was taking it. And some of them, there was another person, usually laughing together with you.

For a moment, you almost wanted to ask; Who’s that?

Something within you felt like it was going to burst. “James?”

This guy whose smile was entirely different, whose eyes were different, whose build was different – who was different. This was James, and for a moment, you had forgotten. Someone you loved and held so dear; you had forgotten until reminded.

Each time you looked away, it grew hazy once more, and it took just a second longer to recognize the picture again. It felt as if you’d break beneath it all.

“Oh, you want me to pause the movie?” James’ voice called out from the other room. No. Not James. Whoever that stranger was, it wasn’t James, they didn’t even bear a semblance. You wanted to scream and cry and ask, no, demand answers from this imposter.

“Hello, you hear me?” His head peeked through the door-opening, and every word died on your tongue as familiarity enveloped you. It wasn’t… It was not James. Your grip tightened on the picture, as if to remind yourself.

 “Hey,” he said, a concerned look. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t respond, didn’t know how to. But perhaps you didn’t need to as he saw the scattered photos among bloody glass shards. “Come out, I’ll bandage your wounds.” Was all he said.

“You’re not him. You’re not my brother.” It felt like pushing a boulder just to say that. The words felt foreign in your mouth, but you held onto the truth the best you could.

“What’s different about me?” he asked. You hadn’t been prepared for that question. Retaliation, denial, anything but that question.

“It’s… Different. You…”

He laughed. “You really do need to lie down; you must be half-asleep or something.”

No. For the first time today, you felt awake. “No. I know I’m right. You’re not…” You all-but flung the picture of your brother at him. The picture now in view, the person in front of you grew unfamiliar again.

“Does it really matter? If you need a picture to notice we’re different?” Before you had a chance to even respond, he leaned closer, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look away from the scattered photos. “Try it. Describe him.”

…You couldn’t.

“But when you look at me, you remember. Who cares if the memories are right?”

There was a temptation of giving into the sweetness that clung onto his words, the sweet lie feeling more welcome than a truth you feared facing. But you could still feel the photos beneath your fingers, feel the sting of the shards in your skin.

“I care!” Your voice raised and cracked, sharp and jagged like the shards.

Frustration slipped into his sigh. “For now. But as always, you’ll forget again. There’s no point in this tantrum. You don’t want to remember anyway, you’re too fragile for loss, so just-“

His words were interrupted as you nicked his cheek with one of the glass shards. At this he stepped back, releasing your chin. His expression’s thinly veiled exhaustion and annoyance gave way for clear resentment and frustration.

When he spoke, his voice was bitter and low, an almost malicious edge to it.

“Do you even comprehend how much I hold back not to kill you? Every moment, it’s as if your very being beckons me to consume it, that’s why I showed up to begin with. To feed. But I decided to stay, unlike everyone else, I’m staying, I’m here!

Anything you lack, anything you miss – I’ll be that. Your brother, your friends, your old stuffed animals, your childhood, yours. I’m yours. Why don’t you und-“He stopped his increasingly fast rant, sighing in tired frustration. “It doesn’t matter. In the end, it’ll be the same as always. You stay. You always stay with me, just like I always stay with you.”

Your breath was caught in your throat. But… Even though you didn’t remember, you remembered the feeling of flying so high and swimming so far, now you were stuck at the bottom of the ocean, unable to lift from the ground as you drowned, and you longed to remember the feeling of not hurting, in the face of that, fear meant nothing.

“You can’t become my brother; you can’t become anything.”

“I can. I do.” He insisted. He kneeled next to you, reaching out to you as if to comfort you, as you flinched, he let his hand fall again, and part of you wished he hadn’t, longing for the warmth. “Hidden wounds don’t need to heal. And someday, I’ll replace even the blood gushing from those very wounds.”

Nothing about his words was a comfort, somehow it felt as if he was comforting himself with them. You wanted to explode in anger, continue an assault, use glass shards or words, but anger was flames and passion and action and – and you were just too tired.

“Do you hate me this much, to torture me like this?”

“Not hate.” At this, he breached the invisible barrier, letting his hand cup your cheek. “Every time you remember a little less, question a little less, and I hide a little less. Bit by bit. One day you’ll look at my true body, hear my true voice, and think nothing of it. All you’ll see is your brother. And you’ll be right, your brother, me, not him. Not some wasted grief. I’ll make you happy.”

“This doesn’t feel like happy.” All you could manage was a broken whisper. “Why?”

He was silent for a moment before speaking,

“I’ve fed on countless people. I exist only in the scope of broken dreams and wasted chances. Regrets is the proof of life, and so I remove those regrets, and with that, their very lives, and humanity slowly corrodes. And I – I cannot even have that. That one, painful semblance of life, and yet I continue to live.”

His voice was an odd mix of gleeful and resentful. You thought, somewhere in the back of your mind, that maybe he was happy to just bare himself at all, another part of you wished he didn’t, as he grew more distant from what you knew with each word, but you didn’t believe this speech really was for you, it was for himself.

“Reasons, what reasons did I have for living or dying. I was devoid of it all yet forced to play part of it all the same, in make-believe fantasies. And even so, it was never for me to comfort or be comforted, never for me to share a meal, never for me to hold a hand, never for me to hear the sound of someone playing the piano for me, never for me to fight and make up with someone, never for me.

In this world I lacked even ones to hate. And yet, all I could do was hate. Stuck in the dirt, all I could do was look up into heaven, cursing every leaf picked by the wind, every bird that could fly, everything that could move where I could not. Love where I could not. I was in hell but forced to act out heaven.

Every time it’d be a new face, a new regret, a new deception. Never me. Always something there isn’t there. But you… You saw, you knew – for a moment, you knew. And yet, you stayed. You didn’t fight, didn’t run. You closed your eyes to it, and clung to my delusions, clung to me.”

“And yet, here you are, pretending to be my brother.” At this, the corners of his lips quirked down, his figure looming as it seemed to grow, crooked and spiny. You thought maybe this was just a little closer to his true form.

“One day, you’ll forget why you clung to me. And then you’ll cling to me all over again. I know it, you are my one thing, my one person, the one thing for me. You infuriate me, you bring me joy, regrets, hopes, all of it – I can obtain it with you, through you, if I just hold on long enough.

Even if my body decays under the weight of hunger, I’ll stay for you without fail.”

”But I want you to leave.” The words sounded fake and hollow, even in your ears.

At this, he laughed. “Leave? And then what, you’ll be left in this empty apartment? Staring at pictures, rewatching old home movies? You don’t really want that.”

“Shut up, you don’t know what I want. You don’t-“ your words were like sand in your throat, forcing it to close until nothing could come out but broken sobs. He took the silence as cue to move closer, wrapping his arms around you – you hated the comfort of this stranger but felt unable to push away its familiarity, clinging desperately unto it.

“I can leave. Simply say the words and you’ll be rid of me.” He said with such ease because he knew you couldn’t do it. In the end, the only thing crueler than this torture was its absence.

#yandere #yandere monster #yandere x reader #dead dove do not eat #minors dni #tw monsterfucking #platonic yandere #not proofread #bad writing

[forasecondtherewedwon]

18. "It's so hot when you talk like that."

Thanks, Kaye!! I think you will appreciate that I used this opportunity to write a self-indulgent rare-pair fic 😊

daring tales of heroism

Fandom: Masters of the Air Pairing: Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal x Harry Crosby Rating: T Word Count: 1038

Summary: The fact that Crosby slept through D-Day just means Rosie gets to celebrate twice.

Rosie thought they’d better keep it between the two of them—Crosby’s disappointment. It seemed like the man was mourning D-Day, the way his face fell and he dropped back onto his bed. I just can’t believe I missed it, Crosby’d said, and Rosie understood, he did. Personally, he wouldn’t have traded anything in the world for the feeling of crossing to the continent on silver wings, watching more ships than he’d ever imagined cutting through the water below. Sleeping through the event sounded like… well, a nightmare.

“But you didn’t miss all of it,” Rosie assured him, leaning forward to give Crosby’s knee a shake. “You were with us the whole way. They were your routes, Croz.”

Crosby hung his head and sighed.

“Why doesn’t that make me feel better?”

“Because you’re a selfish bastard.”

Crosby glanced up, wearing a sheepish smirk. Rosie smiled kindly at him.

“We really did it?” Crosby checked. “It doesn’t feel real.”

“It’ll feel a hell of a lot more real once you leave these barracks. You ready for that? War aside, you really needed some goddamn sleep.”

Crosby chuckled. “‘War aside.’”

“Hey,” Rosie said in a tone of joking defensiveness. “I can be a selfish bastard too.”

“Nah, you couldn’t. You’re a prince, Rosie.”

Crosby rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes and straightened his back. Rosie heard a satisfying-sounding crack. When his hands fell from his eyes, Crosby still looked weary. Some emotion made the corner of Rosie’s mouth twitch.

“Seriously, Croz,” he said, lowering his eyes. “You did so much.”

Crosby gave this assessment a hard nod of acknowledgement that Rosie knew by looking at it meant he didn’t agree. It was ridiculous, and he released a short laugh.

“I could kiss ya,” he said, then stuttered, “W-we could all kiss ya.”

What the hell. The top of Rosie’s ears felt hot, but Crosby huffed a laugh, taking it in stride. More than that. He reached out an inviting hand and motioned Rosie in.

“C’mon then, ‘tales of heroism,’” Crosby goaded.

Rosie couldn’t let that taunting stand. With a wry, uncertain smile, he shoved to his feet. He couldn’t hesitate; couldn’t risk his “native hue of resolution” getting “sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought.” He wasn’t some Hamlet, he was Major Rosenthal, and so he bent over the seated Crosby, took his face between his hands, and planted a firm kiss on his mouth.

He pulled back ready to laugh, but Crosby’s face, first flushed from sleep, then pale upon hearing he’d slept through the invasion of Europe, was flushed again. It was only a soft pink, but it stalled the chuckle in Rosie’s throat. The world had been so blue, so blue and grey. Green in the fields, he supposed, and black in the coffee he’d been going easy on so he wouldn’t be thinking about needing to piss more than needing to bomb German targets while he was sitting in the cockpit.

They looked at each other. Rosie dropped his hands from Crosby’s cheeks but didn’t step back. His mind was not the mind of a man who retreated, and his body followed his mind’s orders.

Crosby appeared to be thinking, but then, looking down, steeling himself, he came to some kind of decision. Rosie inhaled sharply as Crosby got to his feet. They were inches apart.

“That was from all of you, was it?” Crosby demanded.

There was something unyielding in his dark, steady eyes, something Rosie knew he himself must have provoked. Some idiots thought stepping into a job like Group Navigator—a base position, a non-flying position—meant surrendering your backbone. Those people didn’t know Croz. Rosie liked the stuff Crosby was made of; he was made of the same.

“You tellin’ me I’m letting the other boys down?” Rosie asked.

“I’m just not convinced they gave it all they had on that one.”

“Well, they’re still a little tense.”

“What about you, Rosie?” Crosby seemed to ask this question of Rosie’s mouth; that was what he’d been staring at as the words left him.

“Well,” Rosie said consideringly, cocking his head as his gaze moved between Crosby’s eyes and mouth, “one thing I learned during my stint at the flak house was how to relax.”

“Maybe you could teach me sometime.”

“Neither of us has to be anywhere until oh eight hundred.” Rosie raised his wrist and shot a glance at his watch. “I could teach you now.”

“Crash course,” Crosby agreed, then winced at his wording.

“Watch your mouth,” Rosie warned with a lift of his eyebrows. “You’re talking to a fuckin’ pilot.”

They held each other’s eyes, the seconds too tense for Rosie to count. And then Crosby folded.

“It’s so hot when you talk like that,” he blurted.

Rosie grabbed the back of Crosby’s head and yanked him into a second kiss, further bedraggling hair that hadn’t been neatly slicked into place in three days.

This kiss was longer—it had movement. This time, Rosie noticed how Crosby’s mouth felt, not only the brief pressure of contact. Pressed together, their lips were like copper wire, conducting emotions: through Crosby, Rosie re-experienced the thrill of D-Day, knew that the news sinking in was what made Crosby so eager, the returning thrust of his mouth so triumphant. The kiss was pure celebration. Silly and shocking, but necessary, as Rosie had learned time away from the strain of their work could be. A kiss! Why not!

When they drew apart at last, they shared a slightly self-conscious laugh.

“I—” Crosby began, but he bit the word off, and it was clear to Rosie that he didn’t quite know which words to place after it.

“That’s alright, Croz,” he said. He stepped back and laid a hand on Crosby’s shoulder. “I’m not ignorant of the way a gallant airman such as myself might inspire a fast-burning attraction. Just don’t stay tongue-tied too long, ok? We need ya.”

Crosby smiled properly for the first time.

“That’s what I hear,” he said.

“Atta boy. How’s breakfast sound?”

“Holy shit, breakfast.”

Rosie laughed as Crosbie rapidly finished dressing, then hooked an arm around the back of his neck to walk him out.

more smutty one-liner prompts

#thank you!! #my writing #MotA #Masters of the Air #Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal #Harry Crosby #Rosie x Crosby