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stars-for-circe · 2 days

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Summertide

Tags / cw: headcannons, neighbour!abby, suggestive, masturbation, gymrat!abby (kinda)

A/n: this is so bad because I rushed it but be grateful I’m feeding u guys at all tbh <3

Neighbour!Abby who woke up one day to the sound of a truck backing up the driveway to the house next to her, and decides to go check out what’s happening. She walks out barefoot, in only grey sweatpants and some wifebeater loose enough that - from the side - you’d be teased ever so slightly by the sight of her bare chest.

And, as she tucks the loose hairs that fell out of her messy braid behind her ear, and shields her eyes from that hot summer sun - already much too bright for 7 in the morning - she’d realise her guess to be correct, with two trucks parked outside the next door house, and you carrying the boxes inside. And ever since then, it would only be a matter of who caught whose eyes first.

First, it would be you, watching her from the kitchen window as Abby went to get the mail, finally realising how fucking hot your new neighbour was, and realising just how many of her windows lined up with yours.

Later that night, after you’d watch the bathroom window light up and get foggy, you wait for the perfect time and oh-so-conveniently knock on her door the moment the shower stops running, only to be met by Abby in shorts and a damp shirt, towel around her neck and wet hair dripping down her neck.

She’d raise a brow, trying to remain calm with the fact that her smoking hot neighbour was at her doorstep, fled her muscles ever so slightly (which you definitely noticed), and wait for you to talk first. A very small ‘hi’ would come from your mouth, followed by a pause before she reciprocates.

“I’m uh, your new neighbour, on the right.” You’d start awkwardly, trying to somehow keep the conversation going as long as humanly possible

“I know - saw you unpacking the other day.” A cheeky grin would spread across her face, and you really couldn’t help it when you saw her think she has the upper hand here-

“Oh, so you’ve been watching me?”

That grin on her face would disappear, replaced with a sputter and surprised blink, as yours now shows the expression she had before. And as you sway and turn around to head back to your house, letting that silky summer dress float around your hips enough for a good show, it seems the message is clear. A clear challenge between you both - who could crack first?

And after a week, it feels like it may be Abby, with how you keep your windows open, summer breeze blowing the curtains softly as she gets a view of your house and everything you do in it. From doing the dishes, sitting at your vanity, from doing your skincare and even changing - you make sure she sees it.

But on a particularly hot day, when Abby decides not even the fans around her house would help cool her down, when the garage it just too stuffy- you think it may be you, instead.

The first thing that would raise your attention would be the sound of her garage door opening, which makes you raise your head from the book your reading, and sit up against your headboard to see what she’s up to. Abby doesn’t own a car - you know this. So why would she use the garage at all?

You’re quick to realise - with a sharp intake of a breath - that you were entirely wrong in the garage serving no purpose. Because as the door opens, you find Abby dead centre in the space, working out. In sweats and a black wifebeater, this time, as she benches and lifts and hip thrusts so much more than you weigh, and so effortlessly, too.

You can feel yourself getting wet, as you squirm in your cross legged position. As you watch her take deep breaths as droplets of sweat roll down her muscles and as she throws around the weights like they’re nothing. God, you’d almost get lost in the sight, and let her win, if it wasn’t for the small smirk she’d adorn on her face as she looks your way and winks. She fucking knew you were watching.

You scoff, and promptly flip her off, before closing your window and drawing your curtains. But, as a secret kept tightly to yourself, she really did win.

Because you touch yourself that night, to the memories of earlier that day. Of Abby. Leaning against your headboard again, reminiscent of how it was that hot afternoon, on top your sheets and legs spread. You thank god for the fact that you don’t have roommates anymore, as you whine and moan her name in tandem with your fingers, going in and out - a soft, wet clicking noise following each thrust.

And as you grind your clit into your palm, watching your hand disappear beneath the fabric of your sundress, you make sure to spread your legs even wider and throw your head back as you cum. Because there is one small fact about your window. During the day, no one can see in, but during the night - with your lights on - everything is visible.

So, as Abby watches you from her bedroom, hand shoved under her boxers as she writhes and gasps along with you - as she knows your putting on a good show for her to lose, but can’t even bring herself to care at this point - she only really thinks about one (two) things: fucking you blind tomorrow, and calling for a draw.

Taglist: @happysparklingshadows @irelandzo @r3starttt @iamaboringrattat @genderfluidlesbain999 @slut4mascss @rxreaqia @kylorey25 @massivepeacefemme @elliewilliamsfavborderhopper @ratdungeon @elxarw @mariasabanahabanabana @vvynia @abbyshands @littlegingerperson5 @flowersforvi

#tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #Abby Anderson smut #Abby Anderson tlou #Abby Anderson the last of us #Abby Anderson the last of us 2 #Abby Anderson tlou2

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draconic-desire · 1 day

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🔶 Rex Dracorum 🔶

Yandere Zhongli x Reader

At this year’s Lantern Rite, you happen to cross paths with a dragon, much to the chagrin of the one who holds you in the palm of his hand. The result has you trapped between them.

Warnings: Very brief mention of nsfw at the end, implied kidnapping, forced relationship, yandere behavior. Basically my version of what would have happened if Zhongli and Neuvillette actually met at the Rite…

Despite the contract irrevocably binding you to the Lord of Geo, its progenitor allows you a surprising number of freedoms.

Sometimes, you can pretend like he didn’t steal your life away with a simple signature. That he didn’t back you into a corner, making you decide between two evils: to be his wife and mate, or watch as everything and everyone you ever cherished suffer the wrath of the rock.

Why me?, you would plead aloud, desperate for any loophole, any escape from your contract. Why a mortal geologist with only a few mora to her name?

You’re one of the few who appreciates the rock over the gem, my precious lapis, he’d reply cryptically. Always riddles and non-answers, layered statements garnished with polished words.

If you could reverse time, you would have refused his invitation for tea that first time. Little did you know that each of those subsequent meetings, each time you spent listening to his fantastical tales shared between steaming cups, you were digging your grave a foot deeper, his hold on you constricting an inch further.

Perhaps if you had rejected him outright, he would have viewed you not as a unique mineral, but as another insignificant pebble in a sea of endless, colorless sediment. As no more than the dirt beneath his boot.

Instead, you must seek refuge from him and his stifling, suffocating presence in the times between the cracks, like now, as you take in the transformed Liyue Harbor, adorned with lights and colors brighter than any precious stone.

Hailing from Liyue, the Lantern Rite has always been a time of celebration and reflection for you and your family. Now it represents one of the only times the invisible shackles are lifted from your frame.

Although Zhongli does initially insist on walking you through the harbor, arms interlocked as he parades you around while monologuing about Liyue’s rich history, he permits you to venture off on your own and explore while he entertains his associates or work clients during the day. Although you know there are constantly eyes on you, usually a certain grumbling yaksha, this precious time almost feels like normal.

Today, you’ve decided on a stroll through Qiaoyang Village. The quiet, leisurely existence that its inhabitants have adopted fills you with a rare tranquility. Walking at a slow pace among the many street vendors, the scent of tea leaves, fresh mint and spices, permeates your nose, beckoning you forward. Your tea stocks at home are getting a bit low, you mentally remark, and having some of your own gives you an excuse to occasionally opt out of the times Zhongli wants to drag you out again.

Your mind set, you turn to find yourself a fraction of a second from running straight into a wall of boxes.

No—looking down, you spot a pair of black and gold boots, leading up to black trousers and elegant blue robes. A pair of matching gloves holds the boxes in place. There’s actually a person carrying all of those parcels.

Due to the boxes obscuring their view, they notice you too late—with startlingly quick reflexes, they manage to avoid running into you, but given their sudden halt mid-step, the boxes in their arms go toppling to the ground.

You gasp at your stupidity and immediately drop to your knees to maintain the stranger’s fallen goods. Embarrassed at your carelessness, you stumble over your words. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t see you—”

A gloved hand rests on your own scrambling fingers, calming your frantic attempt to organize the items. “No apologies necessary. I am the one at fault for not being more alert.”

Turning to face the stranger, who is now crouching beside you, the air in your lungs extinguishes as your eyes lock.

Undoubtedly, this man is one of the most handsome individuals you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Long, silver hair cascades around his sharp, defined features: almond eyes with striking lilac irises, high cheekbones and full lips, a tall, muscular frame clearly sculpted with subtle muscle. His attire—sapphire robes, adorned with lighter accents and intricate whirls of ocean blues—is clearly of expensive taste and sophistication. The jabot and dewdrop pendant around his neck suggest he’s Fontainian, perhaps associated with the court there.

You must look like a gaping fish out of water, for the man helps you to your feet with a kind smile. “I must have given you quite the startle. Are you feeling alright?”

His deep baritone rings through you, similar yet so unlike the proud voice of the Geo Archon you’ve grown accustomed to. Blinking twice, you regain your bearings and pray to the Seven—excluding one in particular, who would be very unhappy with you—that the man didn’t notice you gawking at him. “Ah, yes, I’m fine. Again, I’m very sorry for being so distracted. If any of your items are damaged, I’m more than happy to pay for replacements.”

“That is quite generous of you, but I can assure you that won’t be necessary. You see, these boxes merely contain tea, nothing more.” To prove his claim, he bends down to retrieve a box that opened when it landed, revealing simple, sealed bags of leaves.

Your shoulders sag in relief. It truly seems like no damage was done. “Well, at least let me help you wrap them up together. I know a trick that will make carrying them all much easier.”

The white-haired male nods, followed by a subtle smile. “That’s very kind of you. I accept your proposal.”

After a quick stop at another stall to buy twine, you start to work on binding the boxes together. You count more than ten in total—who needs that much tea, anyway? The amount of it is almost comical, but you can’t bring yourself to actually poke fun of the man. Not when he’s looking at you with such an endearing smile. Like he’s seeing you, not just the wife of the Lord of Geo.

Your face heats. “So,” you start, trying to focus on your knots and ties and not the stranger’s eyes boring into you, “can I ask why you’re carrying so much tea?”

“Well, I originally was transporting some goods back to Fontaine for my friends and colleagues, but I decided to partake myself. It was buy ten boxes get half off,” he replies, as calmly as if he were stating an obvious fact.

You can’t help it. A giggle escapes your lips as you quirk your head to the side. The innocence with which this man admitted to being scammed endears you greatly, and you can’t help but play along with him. “You know, that’s a pretty good deal.”

He smiles, then, a subtle thing paired with a tinge of pink along his cheeks. “I thought so, too.”

Your smile grows in tandem. Speaking to others, especially other men, without your husband hovering above the conversation is quite rare for you these days—though you have no doubt you’ll be questioned about it later once Xiao reports the encounter to him, if he hasn’t already—

A hand rests on your shoulder, the landing a bit too heavy and the grip a bit too tight. “Ah, my beautiful wife. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

The sound of Zhongli’s voice sends a jump through your bones. Archons, you knew you were being followed, but you’ve never been located and corralled this quickly. A flame of indignation, which has long since dimmed from an inferno to a mere flicker, sparks in your chest. You’re rightly upset that your time has been cut short, and even before you learned this interesting and undeniably attractive foreigner’s name.

You look up at Zhongli and open your mouth to explain the situation, that you were merely helping the other man secure his absurd amount of tea boxes, but the words die in your throat.

The Lord of Geo’s amber gaze is sharp and deadly as stone, directed at the other man. His jaw tightens and he grinds out, “Neuvillette.”

The silver-haired man’s eyes narrow as his gaze roams from the hand on your shoulder to meet Zhongli’s gaze. “Rex.”

Your brow furrows in confusion as you glance back and forth between the two men who look two moments away from ripping each other to ribbons. It’s obvious they know each other, and the name Neuvillette rings a bell of recognition in your mind. But what really concerns you is the term by which Neuvillette called Zhongli. To your knowledge, no one refers to your captor as Rex Lapis except Xiao, who knows of his draconic—

Oh. Oh.

The realization slams into you with a wave of clarity as your head slowly turns toward the other man. The silver, slitted pupils, the shimmering blue horns and pointed ears, the aura of power and hydro around him…

Horrified, your mouth falls open as you truly take in this man, Neuvillette.

No, not a man. The restored leader of Fontaine, the Hydro Sovereign.

You’ve been casually conversing with not only a dragon, but also the Chief Justice of the Region of Justice. One of the original powerhouses of Teyvat, from which the Seven gained their gnoses. And, given the death of the Hydro Archon, there is currently only one in existence restored to their full power.

“Shit,” you breathe, a bit too loudly. Purple and gold irises snap to you in sync, one filled with thinly veiled concern and questioning and the other with building anger and possession.

On cue, Zhongli snakes his arms around your waist, pulling you taut against his side. You swear you feel the hint of claws digging into your skin through the fabric of your dress, the remnants of his exuvia form.

“I had hoped to avoid meeting you here,” Zhongli states, eyes roaming over the scene, the scattered tea boxes, the twine in your hand, as he pieces together the situation, “but my wife is too kind for her own good sometimes.”

Neuvillette’s eyes browse over your form, examining your tense muscles and downtrodden eyes, the arms that remain at your sides. He’s seen cases just like this time and time again in court, but even so, it doesn’t take a legal profession to ascertain that you’re not particularly fond of your husband. And given Morax’s propensity for contracts, Neuvillette’s senses immediately go on alert.

The Chief Justice clears his throat. “Not at all. I think it quite generous of her to have dedicated her time to making my travels easier.” He tries to give you a reassuring smile, but you’re too focused on Zhongli who, despite his collected demeanor, you realize is a thread away from snapping.

Just what kind of battle between dragons have you gotten yourself into the middle of?

“Is that so? Perhaps she took pity on an old man such as yourself. I hear it can be difficult to carry so much after you’ve departed from your prime.”

“Old man?” Neuvillette barks a laugh, but quickly coughs and regains his composure. “Quite ironic coming from you, Rex. Besides, I feel quite reinvigorated these days. One can only assume it’s due to the balances of power returning to their rightful due.”

Zhongli flashes a hint of his canines, the only giveaway to his building rage. “Rightful is quite a biased term. We wouldn’t want to start a war now, would we?”

Neuvillette’s eyes glint like a sword ready for battle. “And you would know quite a bit about inciting wars, wouldn’t you, Rex?”

Dear Archons, you need to stop this before these two lunge at each other’s throats.

“Zhongli,” you try to placate with a soft voice, the name and tone you know he so adores from you, “I believe that Neu—uh, the Chief Justice was on his way back to Fontaine. I only wanted to help him wrap up his purchases correctly for the journey. If we assist him together, then we can head to the Pavilion for tea after, yes?” Part of you is disgusted at yourself for having to grovel, but you can’t allow two immensely powerful draconic beings to brawl over tea in the middle of the village.

Though you have an strong inkling that the argument isn’t over tea.

Your suggestion hits home. Zhongli’s muscles relax as he peers down at you, those immovable, amber eyes softening slightly as he drinks you in. The roaming hands across your back and waist, however, hint that you’ll be getting an earful in private. Though of the likely punishments he has in store for you, that’s the least of your worries.

With a single snap of his fingers, Zhongli uses the power of geo to bind Neuvillette’s parcels together. “There. Consider the issue resolved. My wife and I have matters to attend to.”

Zhongli quickly begins to pull you away, and you think you hear a growl over your shoulder from Neuvillette’s direction. “Careful, Rex. I would be most displeased to have to take one of your contracts to court. In the face of the law, they aren’t as omnipotent as you believe them to be.”

You wince, the statement hitting a bit too close to home. Zhongli, on the other hand, goes as still as stone. “That sounds awfully like a threat, Neuvillette.”

“A mere warning. It is of your own fault to read too deeply into it.”

Neuvillette then turns his attention to you, placing a single tea box into your shaking hands. You have no clue when he separates it from the rest.

Leaning in, his voice drops, low enough to be directed to you, yet you know Zhongli hears it clearly. “You are more than welcome to Fontaine. I will see to your accommodations personally, if you so choose to visit. I believe a spirit like yours would be greatly appreciated in our nation.”

All you can do is shake your head forlornly. Never in a million lifetimes will Zhongli allow it, not even before this encounter. You’ll have to settle for seeing Fontaine through your dreams alone.

Straightening with a frown but understanding the position you must be in, of the contract that binds you to the Geo Archon, Neuvillette lets the matter drop. He turns to leave, but not before throwing over his shoulder, “And her name isn’t wife, Rex. It’s…”

You swallow thickly. “(Y/n),” you finish, a mere breath.

Neuvillette gives you a final smile in return. “My offer will always stand, (Y/n). Happy Lantern Rite.”

Moments after he’s out of sight, Zhongli dips his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and rubbing his over your skin. “You stink of that other male…but I know how to amend that.”

Needless to say, you did not make it to tea that afternoon.

It wasn’t until that night when Zhongli was asleep, clawed limbs and scaly tail entangled with your naked form, that you deem it safe to open the tea box Neuvillette had gifted you.

Core pounding, you grimace as you stand, the many possessive and claiming bite marks and bruises across your skin even worse than usual. He didn’t lie about wiping any scent of the other dragon away, if the past few hours of nonstop sex were any indication.

You make your way to the kitchen trash, where Zhongli had immediately disposed of it upon arriving home. Heart pounding, you lift the lid.

A shimmering blue vision reflects in your pupils.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere zhongli #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yanderecore #yandere male #yandere #zhongli #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #subtle yandere neuvillette?#not really I like to make him a soft lil cutie #lantern rite

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rubiehart · 2 days

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bsf!!jj loving the fact that you’ve divulged to the group that your boyfriend has a small dick—totally not intended to be said but it slips out around the fire—and that in comparison, he’s bigger than he is. And whenever your boyfriend hangs out with the group, he makes it his mission to make him uncomfortable (aka imma stare at you blankly and make crude jokes until you want to leave) and then plays it off as jest when the others tell him to chill out.

letting this confession slip to the group was an accident, a fun night around the bonfire filled with stupid drinking games led to your boyfriends supposed downfall. sure, okay - maybe your boyfriend didn’t completely satisfy your needs in the bedroom, but it wasn’t an immediate turn off in your eyes anyway.

the others had let a few jokes slip at the time, but jj had indulged too much, taking any chance he got to take jabs at your boyfriend about his skills, or therefore lack of, to satisfy you.

of course he’d quench that thirst for you in a heartbeat. you were his best friend, but simultaneously the girl he’d peen pining over since middle school, and he’d give up everything to even get a peek of what your boyfriend has been mistreating.

the final straw was on a late night, the string lights in the chateau yard illuminating everyone’s faces, the crush of beer cans and the gentle hum of the jets in the hot tub. you lay your head comfortably against your boyfriends shoulder, chiming into whatever conversation was happening with your own little anecdotes or laughs.

but you couldn’t stop your gaze from drifting to jj, his blue eyes practically piercing into your boyfriends from across the fire, his beer can in a tight grip between his ringed fingers. his jaw ticks noticeably when your boyfriends snakes an arm around the dip of your waist, pulling you further into him, furrowing your brows in question at him which he just waves off. you decide to leave it at that.

later on into the night, you’d gotten a little hot and bothered. you weren’t sure what it was, maybe the atmosphere, the lighting, or the way jj was looking at you, all hooded eyes and wet lips, you were sat on your boyfriend’s lap, hips grinding lazily against him as her guides you, his cheeks flushed and mind hazy.

you hear a laugh from behind you, whipping your head around to see jj laughing around his beer can, everyone’s head turning towards him to see what he found so amusing. “bro-“ jj says, cut off by a laugh, throwing his head back dramatically to seemingly prove a point.

“you sure it can handle all’at?” he signals, pointing to where the both of your bodies are creating friction, eyes on your boyfriend’s as he huffs, lifting you off of him with a long sigh, stomping back into the chateau.

“dude.” john b sighs, reprimanding jj which he waves off. “what bro? he was askin’ for it. humpin’ out in the open n’ shit.” he rasps out, taking another long sip from his can as everyone disagrees. eyes shamelessly trained on your ass as you stomp away to catch up with your boyfriend.

one down. he thinks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, slouching down in his chair and hearing the argument play out between you two. of course he’d comfort you when you came into the chateau guest room crying, telling him your boyfriend broke up with you.

arms wrapped around you as he thrusts up into you, you’ve never felt so full and you don’t think you could ever go back. lips caressing your soft skin as he tells you how beautiful you are, and how he didn’t deserve you.

#jj maybank blurbs #bsf!jj #jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj obx #jj maybank blurb #outer banks #jj x reader #jj maybank headcanon #obx #jj maybank obx #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank fluff

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babyleostuff · 7 hours

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up. and down

𝜗𝜚 angst, established relationship 𝜗𝜚 idol!seungcheol x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 wc: 818 warnings: mentions of mental health issues, depression, oldest daughter syndrome

natalia's note: this is something very self indulgent, and as much as i'm kind of afraid to post it (partially because it's shitty as hell, and not proofread) writing it was a bit healing. whoever is struggling out there as well - i just want you to know that you're a fucking badass

everyone has their better and worse days. life is just a constant sinusoid of going up and down, up and down.

up. and down.

this was definitely one of your downs. but it was also one of those where you couldn’t explain why you were feeling so down. so numb. so washed out of everything. nothing bad really happened that day - you didn’t oversleep, no one spilled coffee on you, everyone you encountered was nice and polite. maybe the weather was a bit gloomy, but you knew it had nothing to do with the way you were feeling.

yet, as you were walking up the stairs to your apartment, all you could focus on was the emptiness in your chest, the heart that was beating way too fast for it to be normal, the tears threatening to spill, and your shaky hands that were clutching the door keys for dear life.

and you felt so guilty for that. you didn’t know why, but you did.

you tried telling yourself that you weren’t weak, that it was valid for you to have a worse day, and not feel guilty about it - but you just couldn’t. nothing happened for god’s sake, you didn’t have a single reason for the tears that were pooling in your eyes, so how could you call yourself anything but weak?

“hey, honey. you’re home early,” you looked up to see your boyfriend standing in the hallway, with a big smile on his face. the exact one that could usually turn the shittiest days into the best ones. but not today.

it made you feel even worse. seungcheol was one of the best things that could ever happen in your life. he was caring, loving, he’d move the mountains for you if he had to. he was the most hardworking man you’d ever met, and he never complained, no matter how hard it got.

you didn’t want him to see you like this. ever. you didn’t want to show the light of your life your ugly side, the one that could rot in bed for days because it had no energy to get up and take a shower. the one that cried for hours for no reason. the one that sometimes felt like giving up was the only solution.

you cleared your throat, trying to push everything away for the sake of your boyfriend. “hey, baby. what are you doing here, shouldn’t you be at work?”

“yeah, but,” he narrowed his eyes, and took in your form, “they let us go early today,” he said after a quick pause. of course in that split of a second he sensed that something wasn’t right. as if you could ever hide anything from him. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you wanted to scream. nothing happened, except that your lungs didn’t let you breathe, and your heart was too heavy to beat properly.

“i don’t know,” you finally admitted, and shrugged your shoulders. that’s when the first tear fell. “i don’t know what’s wrong, cheol,” your voice broke.

seungcheol didn’t say anything else, he just walked up to you, and put his arms around you, caging you in an embrace that you knew so well. everything was so familiar - his gentle yet firm touch, the smell of his cologne, his slightly chapped lips resting against your temple - and still you felt like an intruder. like you didn’t deserve it.

“you know i love you, right?” though his voice was quiet, you could hear it was slightly shaky. “your friends love you,” he said, and slid one of his hands from your back up to your head, cupping it. “and kkuma loves you. very much.”

you choked on a sob, and hid your face further up seungcheol’s neck.

“i know you don’t see yourself like that,” you could feel something wet sliding down your neck, and for some reason you knew that the tears weren’t only your own, “but you’re so strong. you really are.”

by now you were gripping onto cheol’s shirt like it was the last thing that could keep you afloat. you didn’t care about the tears anymore. you didn’t care about the broken cries. you just wanted to stay like this forever.

“why am i like this? why can’t my mind just leave me alone?” you cried, your shoulders shaking.

“i don’t know, baby. i don’t know.”

and so you stood in the hallway of your apartment, with a very confused white fluff ball at your feet, till you had no more tears left to cry.

life is just a constant sinusoid of going up and down, up and down.

up. and down.

even though your down may seem like a dark path with no way out, like a never ending circle of tears and pain, you have to keep fighting, because you have people worth fighting for.

and most importantly - you have to keep fighting for yourself.

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crappymixtape · 1 day

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tangled • part one

❝ all you’ve known your entire life is in the inside of your tower – the brick walls covered in your murals skating around you in a semi-perfect circle, the view from the very top one that would take anyone’s breath away, but how could it be beautiful when you could never leave? that is, until an unexpected someone happens upon your hidden tower and offers you a chance to escape | ( 3.2k, tangled AU • fluff, angst, strangers to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

S E T M E F R E E, O H I P R A Y 🎶 cowboy take me away, fireswimmer

You were up with the birds, awake as fingers of sunlight slipped through your window and fanned out over the quilt you’d stitched together during the winter months. Spring was coming to an end and the days were growing warmer, enough to probably not need your quilt any longer, and when you stepped out of bed onto the cobblestone floor you felt a buzz of inspiration zip through you.

Maybe it was the way the sun crept through your window or maybe it was the sound of the waterfall rushing just outside the tower, but you wanted so badly to run your fingers through the grass. Hear the way the breeze blew through the trees. Dip your toes in the water and look at the details of a petal up close and–

“Rapunzel! Let down your hair!”

Mother’s voice drifted up from the bottom of the tower and you felt your heart hammer in your chest. You’d never asked her to leave the tower before, hadn’t asked her for much honestly, but with your birthday coming up maybe she would make an exception.

Every year, on the eve of your birthday, lights would illuminate the sky. Dancing and swirling among the stars and drifting beneath the moon. Beautiful and sparkling and it happened every single year. Why? You were dying to find out. They weren’t far from the tower, surely she would entertain your request. After all, it was your birthday.

“Rapunzel! I’m not getting any younger down here!”

“Coming, Mother!” you called back and tossed your long, shiny locks up over the hook spun into the roof of the tower. They cascaded down the wall and landed in a spun pile at her feet.

Pulling and pulling and pulling, Mother ascended up to the window inch by inch until she stepped up onto the ledge and into your circular room, “Good morning, dear.”

“Morning, Mother.”

“It’s time to brush your hair dear. I saw on the way up, you’ve got twigs tangled up in the ends. Hardly a way to treat such beautiful locks, my goodness. What do you do all day? Tsk. Just another reason for me to keep you here, you can’t even manage to properly care for yourself.”

A pang of shame hit you square in the chest and you wrapped your arms around your torso, making yourself smaller. Unseen. Unheard.

“Sit,” Mother said pulling up a stool and you did as you were told, sitting on the small surface as she took the chair behind you, brush in hand. “Now sing me our song. You know how much I love it,” she demanded, not asked, and you did as you always did…

Flower, gleam and glow, Let your power shine, Make the clock reverse, Bring back what once was mine.

Heal what has been hurt, Change the fates' design, Save what has been lost, Bring back what once was mine. What once was mine.

“That’s my girl,” Mother appraised, running the brush through the ends of your hair and pulling too hard at the end, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Mother…” you started, hesitant, reluctant. Should you ask? She seemed in as good a mood as ever.

“What is it?” she snapped, short. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, but something in you pushed. Please, please ask. If you don’t ask we won’t ever know. And you had to know.

“I was thinking–”

“Never a good thing,” Mother teased meanly and you bit your bottom lip between your teeth. Nerves swelling in your chest.

“I was just thinking...tomorrow is my birthday and well–well, there’s something I was hoping we might be able to do.”

Mother hummed in her throat, a sharp thing that held irritation, like you were a pest she couldn’t rid herself of. “And? Rapunzel come now, speak up!”

“And–and I was wondering if you might take me to see the lights at the castle. They’re there every year on my birthday! They can’t be stars…I’ve charted them all and I just…I want to see what they are–”

“The lights?” Mother started to laugh. “The lights? Rapunzel you must be joking.”

“No, I’m not…I’m not joking, Mother I really do want–”

“Truly, how could you think I would just take you–”

“Mother, it’s what I really want! I just want to see the lights!” you shouted, but as soon as the words left your lips you clamped your hands over your mouth. Afraid of what you’d just done.

Mother narrowed her eyes at you, lips firmed into a twisted line, angry and her patience evaporated as she took a step toward you and you shrank again.

“You will never raise your voice at me like that again, is that clear?”

“Yes, Mother.”

Her voice notched up in volume as she stepped closer to you.

“And I don’t ever want to hear about those lights again, is that clear!”

She was closer still, breath heated and harsh against your cheek.

“Yes, Mother.”

Towering over you, Mother took you by the wrist and roughly pulled you up to her face so that you were inches away, the heat of her words spilling and burning and wicked, “And you will absolutely NEVER, EVER be leaving this tower! Is that clear??”

When you spoke for the final time your voice cracked, tears streaming down your cheeks, chest burning with embarrassment and shame and regret. “Yes, Mother.”

Letting go of your wrist, Mother sighed and sank back into her chair, eyes closed and fingers pinching her the bridge of her nose.

“Ugh, now I’m the bad guy.”

You sniffed, wiping your eyes hastily with the backs of your hands, trying and scrambling to regain your composure. Afraid to push her even the tiniest bit further. You wished you’d never asked, wished you kept your thoughts to yourself. The lights, your birthday, all of it. Wished you could take it all back.

Clearing your throat you sat back on your stool, curled into yourself as you peered up at Mother sitting her in chair. Impatient. Bothered. Exasperated.

“Mother…” you started tentatively, “I know what I want for my birthday now.”

“And what’s that?” she sighed.

“New paint? The kind made from the shells you once brought me.”

She fixed you with a look, the way you might regard a dog begging for scraps, “Well, now that is a long journey, Rapunzel.”

“Please? I promise not to ask about the lights again,” pressing your hands together you tried to look sorry, thankful, grateful, please.

Mother sighed again, but you held onto hope. “Oh, alright,” she conceded, standing from her chair to gather her things. Surely you couldn't do much damage over a few days. “I’ll be back in three days time. Are you sure you’ll be able to manage without me?” she asked.

You gave her a small smile, “Yes, mother. I’ll be fine.”

“You know I love you,” your mother said, a tight smile pulling at her lips.

“Yes, mother. I love you too,” you murmured.

“I’ll see you a bit, my flower!”

And with that you watched as she descended the tower, your hair in her hands sliding down, down, down to the grass below and off into the open, free, world you wanted so badly to explore, only to stand at your window while Mother disappeared into the vines draped at the edge of the meadow and into…well, unlike you, where ever she wished to go.

I SAID I WANNA TOUCH THE EARTH, I WANNA BREAK IT IN MY HANDS, I WANNA GROW SOMETHING WILD AND UNRULY.

Unbeknownst to you, the path to your freedom lay in the hands of a man just on the other side of the very vines Mother had just stepped through. Well…technically he was a man, but really more boy in the way he held himself. And carried conversation. And continually found himself in trouble because of his inflated ego, but a man nonetheless, holding your freedom.

Flynn Rider, a rogue, a thief, a ruffian. Just over six feet tall with sweeps of dark brown hair, skin like it held all of summer and the sun beneath it, eyes like burnt sugar and dotted in freckles and apparently much faster than he looked.

“RIDER!”

“Sorry, boys, gotta go!”

Flynn crashed through the line of shrubs he’d just hurled himself into and fell out the other side, scrambling to find his footing. He was probably going to regret the decision he’d just made, but that would be a problem for future Flynn Rider.

Patting the satchel at his side he peeked into make sure the contents were still intact and at the sound of thundering hooves picked his pace back up, sprinting through the woods.

It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in sight, rays of sun shining through canopy and dappling the forest floor with warm sunlight. It would have been even more beautiful if Flynn wasn’t being chased by the King’s guard, but he supposed it was the only option when you’d stolen the crown of the missing princess.

Chest heaving with the effort, he pushed his legs to go faster. Sprinting over fallen logs and thick brambles, wincing but not stopping as they pulled and slashed at the thin fabric of his tunic. He had to find cover before he ran out of breath or else he’d face the gallows.

Again.

It wasn’t that he was a bad guy. He wasn’t murderous or wanted for treason or anything. In fact, he wanted to be done with this life on the run and so he hoped this might be his ticket out. Hawk the lost princess’ tiara and hop a boat to somewhere far, far away.

His lungs started to burn as he sucked in air, sidestepping a particularly nasty blackberry bush and earning a scratch across his cheek. “Damn,” he hissed, wincing at the pinch of pain. He could hear the guards closing in behind him, the captain giving orders to his men to split up and Flynn knew his time grew short.

An arrow grazed past his ear as his slammed into a tree, the tip sinking into the bark just inches from his hands.

Too close.

“A promotion to which ever of you idiots catches, Rider!” the captain shouted and it pushed Flynn into another sprint.

Step over step over step, out of the thick stand of trees and into a wide field of wheat. The shhh shhh shhh of the grass against his trousers hissing as he stumbled once on a dirt clod and again on a molehill until the third time he wasn’t so lucky.

The toe of his boot caught on a rock dug into the dirt, sending him flying forward and over the edge of an embankment. Tumbling head over heels down, down, down and hitting the bottom with a heavy THUD!

“Sir! We’ve lost him!”

“What d’you mean you’ve lost him??”

“I–I’m not sure, sir. We–we’ve lost visual.”

“Bloody useless–if you lot can’t find him, then I’ll do it myself!!”

Groaning, Flynn pushed himself up from where he’d landed and blinked away the knock to the head he’d just earned for running through a damn field. Voices carried down the embankment and he could hear the King’s guard scuttling about back up the hill – they didn’t know where he was.

Scrambling back up onto his feet, Flynn quickly checked to make sure the tiara was still in place before frantically looking for an out. He had a moment’s cover while they tried to find him back up at the top, but surely they’d see the bent wheat stalks at some point. The bottom of the gully was more of the same, thick brush and brambles and trees and…vines? All drooping down just above the ground at the same angle and blowing just ever so in the breeze.

Brows knitted together he pushed a hand to them and stumbled forward a bit when his hand fell through them, not solid. So he pushed further still, watching as his arm disappeared further and further until he was completely concealed.

“Sir! We found something!”

Sucking in a gasp, Flynn pressed himself against the rock of the tunnel he’d just discovered and held his breath. The King’s guard tramped down the hill and trotted right past his hiding spot, their shadows dancing across the vines as they concealed him out of sight.

“He’s here somewhere, keep looking!”

The sound of hooves slowly disappeared and when quiet flooded back in, Flynn could hear the sound of a…river? A waterfall? Birds and a soft breeze across his skin…taking a few steps toward the bright light at the other end of the tunnel Flynn shielded his eyes in the crook of his arm and walked out into the most beautiful place he’d ever seen.

A waterfall cascaded down a cliff at the far edge of the little valley he’d wandered into, crashing into the rocks below and fanning out into a river that wound its way through the ground and past his feet. All manner of birds chirped and sang as they flew through the cloudless sky, landing peacefully in the trees. And there, just in the very center, a tower made of brick and cobblestones with a thatched roof, a chimney and windows all around but…no way up?

He knew he couldn’t stay idle, even if he was out of sight for now, surely the King’s guard would find him. Taking one quick loop around the tower, there was still no door in sight, so snatching the pair of daggers from the belt at his waist he stabbed one between the bricks high above his head and pulled to test his weight. When it held he found his footing and drove the second dagger in and arm over arm began to climb up to the largest window.

His biceps were burning, his shoulders on fire. There were a few times Flynn even thought he would surely fall to his death, but slowly he made it up, up, up and when he finally fell through the window gasping for breath, he prayed to whatever gods there may be that he might find a bed at the top of the bloody tower. Stealing a crown, outsmarting two idiot thugs and then running from the King’s guard was no easy feat and he could feel exhaustion in his very bones.

Heaving himself up off the cobblestone floor he loosed a heavy sigh of relief and pushed his hair from his eyes.

“Gods, finally. Alone at last.”

And then with a very loud CLANG! everything went black.

IN THE COMFORT OF YOUR ARMS, ON A PILLOW OF BLUE BONNETS, IN A BLANKET MADE OF STARS, OH, IT SOUNDS GOOD TO ME.

There was a man.

In your tower.

In your room.

AT YOUR FEET.

How he’d made it all the way to the top of the tower without the aide of your hair was beyond you, but as you peeked out at him from behind your mannequin you couldn’t help the tiny pang of guilt in your chest. Maybe you didn’t have to hit him with your frying pan, but it was too late for that now.

You’d never seen one before, only knew what Mother told you: dark, beady eyes and sharp fangs, gnarled hands to snatch you with and kidnap you away into the night.

Stepping out from your hiding place you took a tiny step forward, the smallest step, and poked him with the handle of your pan.

“HEY!” you shouted, but he didn’t move. “Oh, gods…” Did you kill him?

Another few steps and your bare toes nearly brushed his arm. Slowly extending the pan again you turned his head with the handle and nudged his lip, but in place of scary fangs were teeth. Just like yours. Bending down carefully you lifted a hand to his face and hesitated, waiting for something to happen, but his steady breaths continued to fall and his eyes remained shut.

A cut chased across his cheek, the tiniest streak of blood along with it, and your brow furrowed with worry. Did it hurt?

You ghosted your hand over his, just as normal as ever though a bit rough and maybe a little dirty, but wide and warm. Not gnarled. Not scary. You wondered at what it would feel like to hold it, yours so small and his so big.

Slowly, gently, your fingers trailed through the sweep of brown hair covering his face and brushed it aside to reveal mole dotted skin, warm and golden like summer and he’s beautiful. The most wonderful thing you’ve ever laid eyes on and you want to see more and–

“Unghh…”

CLANG!

You instantly regretted hitting him again, but what were you supposed to do? He opened his eyes and began to stir and what if he’d jumped up to grab you?

A groan escapes your lips and you rough your hands over your face, you still have a man in your tower. What to do, what to do. As you took stock of your modest surroundings there wasn't much to work with. Your mannequin, a small stove, things for baking and sewing and painting, your bed, your closet–

Your closet!

Blowing a puff of air between your lips, you bent down and grabbed hold of his feet and pulled a little. When he didn't stir you pulled again. A little more, a little further, a little further and further and straining, struggling almost dropping him, you shoved him into the wardrobe and slammed the doors shut, propping the handles closed with a chair.

“Oh! Oh! I did it!” you squealed, sweat clinging to your brow, giving a little jump of excitement. “I did it!! I’ve got a person in my closet. I’ve got a person in my closet…I’ve got a person in my closet! Mother thinks I’m too weak to handle myself, huh? Well, we’ll just see about that!”

And as you took a victory lap around the room your eyes caught something on the floor. A bag you hadn’t seen before and as it fell open, the contents inside flickered in the light as it came through the cracks in the roof.

Picking up the satchel you pulled back the flap and found something even more beautiful than the man you’d just shoved into your closet.

Gold. Purples and pinks and turquoises and glittering in the sunlight and as you carefully picked it up, you were surprised at how heavy it was. Eyes narrowing, you hold it closer to look at the intricate way the gold pieces twist around the jewels and gems, securing them in place and creating little flowers along the sides.

A smile flickers at the corners of your lips. It looks just like the pictures from your fairytale books. The kind of thing only a princess would wear. Laughing softly you step in front of your mirror and hesitantly hold it up over your head. Just for a moment. Just to see what it would look like…

Slowly, softly you lowered it and let it settle upon your head and a flash of light strikes you. A memory, bright and sharp and vivid. A spinning sun hanging overhead. The most lovely laughter, like music, like a song. A warm embrace. A lullaby.

BANG!

Sounds from the closet and you nearly fling the crown to the ground. How foolish of you to let you guard down. How could you forget? You could hear Mother scolding you, telling you how stupid you were, how you could have been kidnapped or killed.

Heart hammering against your ribs your eyes settle back on the closet as it bangs again.

Your guest was awake.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

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thissccounthatesfascists · 3 days

Text

TL asleep? cool.

(long post, strap in)

i wanna talk about colin's wet dream. that was the most demisexual shit i have EVER seen. there's not even any sex. its just a romanticized, elevated version of their first kiss. its colin's subconscious wanting to replay the moment he fell in love with his best friend in the Most way possible.

lets break it down:

we got the same location of their first kiss. Complete with mood lighting and a fog machine. It’s giving pride and prejudice 2005

Penelope comes out (looking gorgeous, of course) to their rendezvous spot, which has been previously agreed on.

colin thanks her for meeting him, she doesn't know why he's asked her to come

he confesses his feelings for her

she reciprocates (this is the important part of this to me. ) her wanting him, makes him want her more (do you see where the demisexual colin energy is coming from? do you understand?)

they make out

he kisses her neck as she pants his name over and over (see my point above re: her wanting him makes him want her more)

he wakes up, absolutely shook

this is an idealized reimagining for colin: during their first kiss he was basically in shock, his new personality chokes on the reality and vulnerability of the moment

in the book he talks about how he tries to think of something witty to say but finds that no words are necessary, and there's no combination of witty banter or suave bravado that could help in that moment. the rake persona that he has put on up to this point absolutely fails him. but here, in this dream, words are crucial, the declarations of love are why its sexy! (demi colin is canon idc idc)

and its so important that this wet dream, the idealized version of this scenario happens like this. because we've also seen colin having sex with sex workers (and luke newton has talked about this) but his energy in those scenes is very detached, very focused on him and his pleasure with zero connection to the women he's with. he has two different threesomes (if you can even call the second one that, he's barely even looking at them) with four different women and we know nothing about these girls. they don't even get names. they don't matter, and its simply not. as. good. as the feeling of kissing pen. there is no connection

which is, i think, why he taps out during the threesome in ep4. he tries to go back to the devil-may-care attitude toward sex and intimacy that he had before kissing pen, he tries to return to that mask he put on of "the rake" and it just doesn't work! he feels nothing! in fact he feels disdain for the position he's in and the choices he's made!

the threesome in ep4 mirrors the outburst he has later at the club really well. like he's so frustrated with this position he's put himself in, the men he's surrounded himself with. he literally says "none of you are gentlemen!" "you're actually gross and disrespectful!"

a line that i love is :

"... it is tiring, is it not? The necessity imposed on us to remain cavalier about the one thing in life that holds genuine meaning. Do you not find it lonely?"

and they laugh! in! his! face! because these are men that feel perfectly fine sleeping with strangers and bragging about their "conquests" to their buddies

but that is not who colin is! he's still very young. and his experience with marina (who tried to seduce him and it didn't work, imo bc he just didn't feel that passion, that love that makes his relationship with penelope so different) has left him jaded, but not nearly as jaded as he wants to believe. even if he wants to be casual about romance and sex, he just isn't. this man proposed to marina after knowing her for what? a couple weeks? He is an All or Nothing type of guy. He has that Bridgerton 'when i fall in love i will only ever talk about my spouse' Gene

Now: some costuming details that i love:

Her hair:

(i know this is a stretch but go with me here) her hair is in slightly tighter curls than we've seen this season, which to me seems like a nod to colin liking (or at least not minding) her hair the way it was in previous seasons and maybe not caring as much as we might think about her transformation. but its still down and flowy and in line with her new style

let's talk about this! dress! (it has genuinely been keeping me up at night)

the sleeves seem much more similar to the silhouettes of her costumes in previous seasons, not necessarily in shape but in style

the sleeves are bulkier, compared to this season's costumes, which while they might have been the same size and shape, they are made of much lighter material, giving the silhouette a softer, more mature feeling.

compare it to this dress from s3 ep2: it looks very similar with the sleeve shape and the floral appliqués, but in the dress in the image above, the appliqués are much more obvious, closer to penelope's style under her mother's tastes

the point i'm trying to make here will be made more clear in a sec. what I am NOT trying to say that colin prefers her in her little girl dresses with loud designs, bright colors, and silly hairdos. he just associates those bigger, brighter, louder style choices with penelope.

And he has always liked Penelope. Even when he didn’t take her seriously as a potential partner, he always saw her as an equal. He never made fun of her silly dresses and questionable hair choices.

This has nothing to do with Colin but i feel like i should point it out:

there is something to be said about how her muted pastel color palette along with the more demure style that she has adopted shows that she is trying to Show Up with this social season, but as a wallflower, she is shy. she's always hated those brightly colored dresses her mother put her in, because no matter how close to the wall she clung, she was always visible. she was always vulnerable to ridicule.

but i don't think colin knows or realizes this because why would he think critically about the specific style changes she's made. and he probably doesn't really make the connection of the influence her mother has on her clothing. and around him, pen has never seemed all that shy. she's been confident and witty. if you pair her personality that shines around colin with her louder outfits, it seems more congruous

(take the scene from season 2 where we get the line "My purpose shall set me free") this is a side of penelope that no one, not even eloise!, sees

what his subconscious knows is that he associates pen with vibrant, textured, and often 3-dimensional outfits, and his subconscious creates a dress that fits her new style, with a little more of that featherington flair thrown in.

the fucking tie in front: i feel like this is a very clear reference/ foreshadowing to the mirror scene

for those of you who haven't read the book, the mirror scene doesn't actually happen, but colin tells penelope about a fantasy he has about touching her in front of a mirror

this is a pretty small offhand comment made while they're having sex for the first time but amongst book fans the scene has become pretty fleshed out i think, with fanfics especially

because the idea that it touches on is colin fantasizing about penelope seeing herself the way he does, as sexy and desirable (he seriously cares about her pleasure so much its sickening, I'm actually sick)

and although Book Colin doesn't mention it, the idea of him undressing her in front of a mirror has become a popular story set-up

i think the tie in the front sort of plays on the time period sensibilities of propriety: this is a time where in "good" society an unmarried man and woman would never touch skin to skin, its why all the women wear gloves most of the time. its why the scenes in season 1 between daphne and simon play on the excitement of removing the gloves: its a taboo thing

this is unrelated to this post but i need an explanation as to why pen isn't wearing gloves in a lot of her scenes this season, like the scandal that that would cause??? I'm assuming its representative of her growing into her sexuality; and bridgerton is a fantasy, not a historical nonfiction, but like some consistency would be nice guys bc i was so confused abt all the skin-on-skin contact happening. even with Francesca and Lord Samadani WHEN HE KISSES HER BARE HAND I WAS SO UNCOMFORTABLE FOR HER. especially because of all the glove-related tension in s1. but i digress.

so the tie in front is sort of a dare. even though its clearly an addition, and untying wouldn't actually remove her dress, its her (colin's subconscious version of her anyway) way of saying: "you could untie this, you could undress me if you wanted to" "i love you" "i want you"

and i think that's beautiful. this season is great and i will die on this hill.

If you've made it this far, congrats! you're just as feral as me! come and gnaw on the drywall with me while i post fanfics inspired by this season: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55988977/chapters/142190584

chapters 1+2 of my new fic are up

photos are from : https://www.cap-that.com/bridgerton/302/index.php?image=bridgerton3x02_1502.jpg

#colin bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton spoilers #penelope featherington coded #polin #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton s3 #bridgerton meta #costume design #demisexuality #demisexual representation #demisexual colin bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 analysis #romancing mister bridgerton #romancing mr. bridgerton #adaptation analysis #some historical context analysis as a treat for me specifically

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tragicdruid · 3 days

Text

Lost Love (2)

Pairings: Wanderer x Reader

Contains: Fluff, lots of yearning, platonic relationship, post-Archon quest

Word Count: 600+

Summary: After erasing himself from Irminsul, Wanderer thinks it will fix all of his problems. Instead, he finds himself with regrets.

Part 1 | Part 2

"You know I love you. Is it too hard to love me back?"

Those words continued to haunt him every time he sees you walking through Sumeru City's marketplace. That smile, those eyes --- he hates how much he misses them; how much he misses you. There's a tug in his chest whenever you look his way, but he refuses to meet your gaze. Maybe it's shame. Maybe he's just a coward. Neither of which he'd ever admit to.

Despite this, his heart continues to yearn for you. But it's too late, he decided. You have no memory of him. He is nothing to you, and you seem so at peace that he doesn't have the heart to break it.

It's the afternoon when he happens to come across you buying some baked treats for lunch. There's a lightness to your movement that comes from abandoning the Fatui and living a free life. Without his influence, he wonders what Irminsul has replaced your motives with to leave you alone here in the city. Wanderer stands at a nearby stall, casting you a subtle glance as he watches your hands smoothly take two wrapped pieces of bread. Pretty hands he wishes he could hold one last time.

"Just two will do, thanks. Well, actually, can I also get..."

Your voice is mostly the same, but there's a peace to it that he doesn't recognize. You sound happier without him; less stressed. Content. It's a pleasant sound that makes his chest clench. Would you have sounded this lovely had you not approached him back when he was Scaramouche? It's something he doesn't want to think about.

Wanderer snaps out of his thoughts as you thank the baker once more, turning away with a smile with a bag of baked goods in hand. Despite his noble intentions, he is not a noble man. Neither is he selfish, but he can be so so greedy.

As you begin to walk down the path towards another stall, he intercepts you. Your shoulders bump lightly, enough to catch your attention.

"Ah, excuse me," you exclaim apologetically, a polite small smile on your lips.

It's not enough. He wants to see that affectionate smile you once gave him. The one that makes your eyes twinkle.

"Be more careful," he responds coolly, tipping his hat slightly forward to avoid your gaze.

But he simply can't help himself. He turns his head upward once more and catches your raised brow, eyes curious as you take in his expression. Your eyes were always beautiful up close, especially when lit up by the sun.

"You bumped into me," you reply, tone both accusatory and amused. "But I'll let it slide though since you're cute."

Wanderer feels a familiar heat in his cheeks. It's something so childish to be flattered by, but it's only because it's coming from you. He can only scoff in turn, glancing to the side as he tries to focus on anything other than you...but his eyes finds their way back as they lock onto that smile. It's full of mirth and sweet amusement. He's the only one you should be smiling like that for.

"Trying to use flattery to divert blame? How childish," he chuckles, crossing his arms nonchalantly.

A huff of a laugh leaves you as you roll your eyes. "It's not flattery if it's the truth." You look him up and down with interest and curiosity. It's clear that he's not from the city; though neither are you.

"Do you want to have lunch?" You offer with a small smirk. "We can argue semantics over some treats."

You hold up your paper bag, giving it a light shake.

He knows that he should say no and let you go on your merry way, but the chance to be this close to you is too tempting to pass up.

"I don't have anything better to do. Why not?" His voice is cool and collected, but he feels anything other than that. Had he a heart, it would be pounding in his chest.

Maybe this time, he could do things right.

#scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact wanderer #td;writing #td;genshin

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vhsgoghs · 3 days

Text

work (Valeria Garza headcanons)

Valeria Garza x female reader ★ masterlist here

Valeria would surely take care of you and try to keep you away from her work, things were too dangerous or just unpleasant.

She is a tough woman in her daily life, but with her partner (with you) she would have more than a weak point and a completely different treatment.

She is possessive without reaching a toxic point, otherwise you wouldn't even have accepted a relationship with her.

She's not the kind of person who forbids you things, she just wants to receive the same respect, but when it comes to work she's too strict, she no doubt has some warnings for you.

Surely, she wouldn't let you walk alone around the place where she operates, you could get hurt or something could go wrong and she would never forgive herself for that, nor would she ever forgive any of the people who work with her.

It's actually not that common for you to go to her work, for the fact that there isn't much to do there, especially when she's busy.

It is likely that most of the time she is busy and that is why she prefers to see you at home, besides, she does not know what you can see or happen if she leaves you alone.

If you are a sensitive person, she would find a way for you to know as little as possible about what she does.

Unfortunately, she can't protect you from everything, so you probably saw more than once something you shouldn't have or her doing something bad to someone.

There may be days when she wouldn't let you leave her side for a second, usually when she knows her work day will be light and she can have you close all day.

Valeria would maintain that line between letting you know what she does without saying too much so she doesn't scare you. She didn't want you to think of her as someone who wasn't really hers, she would never hide from you what she does in her work or her true personality.

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 days

Text

Charlie: “This is the worst idea we’ve ever had.”

Vaggie: “Do we have a better one?”

Charlie: “Give up before I burn down half of Pentagram City??”

Vaggie: “That’s plan B, babe.”

Charlie: “It’s gonna be plan A for Already Happening at this rate!”

Vaggie: “Look, I don’t like it any more than you do-”

Charlie: “THEN SWITCH WITH ME!”

Angel Dust: “Said the bi lady to her lesbian lover.”

Charlie: “I’M NOT LOVING THIS! Why can’t I be the on who has to do the fake date thing!? At least I’ve dated guys before! Once!!!”

Vaggie: “Because-”

Alastor: “Ha ha HA… My dear, I’m afraid I DO prefer living, amusingly enough~”

Charlie: “Then keep the touching. To a MINIMUM.”

Vaggie: “Sweetie, the whole point is to trick people into thinking I’ve double crossed you so they’ll tell us about how they wanna double cross you. It’s not really going to work if the one selling you out is… you.”

Charlie: “But this is stupid- no one in their right mind is going to look at YOU and think ‘now THERE’S a woman who would date a MAN!’”

Angel Dust: “Biphobia~”

Husk: “Still fucking true.”

Vaggie: “Charlie c’mon- If you were a dude I’d date you.”

Charlie: “You’d figure out how to still be lesbian about it, trust me.”

Alastor: “Now there’s a thought! I COULD do my best impression of a lesbian, if that would help with the immersion?”

Vaggie: “What, like. Wear a pin?”

Charlie: “I do NOT need this situation to be in any way believable! The structural integrity of our HOTEL does NOT need me feeling this is even slightly more real.”

Alastor: “But our foes do require enough to be fooled by, I am afraid.”

Angel Dust: “Well that’s this plan out the window…”

Vaggie: “I can’t picture you as a lesbian.”

Angel Dust: “He’s not giving guy fucker vibes either, toots, bein’ fair.”

Husk: “It’s just fucker. In a platonic, shitty way.”

Alastor: “And you would know, hmmm~?”

Charlie: “Can’t we just dress me up as someone else?? Put me in a glamor, or-”

Vaggie: “No one is gonna hear you talk and not know who you are."

Charlie: "RRRGH."

Vaggie: "Which I love, by the way. Along with everything else.”

Charlie: “Well what if I just don’t talk! You- you could be into the silent, brooding types!”

Vaggie: “If I’d met you during the emo phase then yeah sure. But Alastor's the one who knows these assholes-”

Angel Dust: “WAIT go back- her WHAT phase!?”

Charlie: (SQUEAKS)

Vaggie: “Em… emoticon. Her. Emoji era.”

Angel Dust: “She was emo??” (at charlie) “YOU WERE EMO!?!? With the hair dye an’ the dead roses and shit????”

Charlie: “I was a TEEN! Kinda!! I was, barely through my first four decades of life-!”

Vaggie: “And dealing with a lot.”

Charlie: “-the whole ‘oh all of creation hates your home and you and everyone you love’ thing was starting to sink in, as well as all the, the murder and stuff happening just outside our house-”

Vaggie: “The hair dye made her happy so shut up.”

Angel Dust: “Oh we GOTTA get you back in your emo duds someday, Charlie Chip! This is GOLDEN!”

Alastor: “What, my dears, is an emo phase?”

Husk: “Angry at the world and making it the world’s problem by staying in your fucking room with the lights dim as fuck, turning it into a 3D model of all your psychological hang-ups and listening to tortured screams and shit.”

Alastor: “Ah. A lovely Saturday afternoon. I DO enjoy those.”

Everyone Else: “…..”

Alastor: “?”

Angel Dust: “Alright. So he’s maybe got some teen girl vibes goin’ on. That’s a start ain’t it?”

Vaggie: “….maybe we could say I lost my soul to him in a bet or something.”

Charlie: “Don’t even JOKE about that!!!!!”

Husk: “Fucking copycat.”

Angel Dust: “Copy what, Mr. kittens?”

Husk: (hisses)

Alastor: “Now now, Husk. Play NICE.”

Husk: “…you got it, boss.”

Alastor: (pats his head) "Very good."

Angel Dust: (CRINGING)

Charlie: "Alastor- could you um, maybe not??"

Alastor: "Hmm? Not what, my dear?"

Vaggie: "Oh you fucking KNOW what, pendejo." (glares) “Fuck the fake soul selling. I’d probably kill him if he talked to me like that.”

Alastor: “That MIGHT put a damper on our budding relationship, ha ha!”

Vaggie: “Touch me and you WILL die.”

Alastor: “Oh ho! A long distance romance I see!”

Vaggie: “That’s not convincing anyone either. You hold still, I’ll, ugh.” (grimace) “Touch your arm or something.”

Husk: “Eugh.”

Angel Dust: “Basic house rules.” (shrug) “Maybe it’ll work?”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

Vaggie: “Charlie it’s just for one evening-”

Charlie: “No. Just, just let all of hell plot against me! It’s fine.”

Vaggie: “Babe that is so not fine.”

Charlie: “It’s fine!!!”

Husk: “Carpet’s on fucking fire.”

Charlie: “Shit. Alastor- I need you to step away from Vaggie before I burn the hotel to the ground, starting with you.”

Vaggie: “Hot.”

Angel Dust: “Siiiiimp...”

Husk: (smirk)

Alastor: “I suppose disguising me as a FLAMING lesbian would be a BIT much.” (steps away) "Better?"

Charlie: (hugging vaggie) “Further please, Alastor. Further. A, a little more? Mm- no, further than that…”

(many steps later)

Charlie: “Juuuust a few more steps…”

Charlie: “Okay! I think I can finally be comfortable with this!!!”

Vaggie: “He can’t hear you, sweetie. He's half way across the hotel.”

Charlie: “Oh.”

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #alastor the radio demon #angel dust hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #incorrect quotes #less “charlie being jelly” and more “seeing someone else near vaggie Like That makes Charlie's soul itch in a bad way”#and then things start catching on fire #oops

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dira333 · 2 days

Text

Hurting together - Aizawa x Reader

mentions of Chronic pain, requested by @alienaiver I hope this is in any way what you've imagined.

“Nervous?” Shouta asks after a full 120 seconds of your leg bouncing without stopping.

“Huh?! Oh, oh, I’m sorry!” You scramble to a halt, arm resting on your leg to keep it in place. “I didn’t even notice I was doing it.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to stop now. But if you wanna talk about it, I heard that helps.”

“Oh, uh, I don’t wanna … I don’t wanna annoy anyone,” you mutter, eyes flickering from left to right.

“Do you wanna hear my story then?” He asks, not because it’s something he likes sharing, but you’re cute and what’s the alternative? Staring at the wall until he gets called in.

“Oh, if you… if you don’t mind?”

He huffs out a breath. “Well, apparently it’s not healthy to break a bone every single week.”

“Oh!” Your eyes grow huge. “Every single week? Wait, is it the same bone.”

“No,” he snorts softly, “At least then I’d have a better story. I’m a pro Hero, I just happen to get into fights.”

“And what’s your Hero Name? Fragile Bone?”

It takes him a second to recognize the joke, snorting loudly when he does. You’re snappy, now that the anxiety fades.

“No, it’s uh… Eraser Head.” He waits a second for you to recognize him, the star-struckness to hit. But it doesn’t. Instead, you cock your head to the side and eye him thoroughly.

“Interesting,” you say, “I remember an Interview you were forced to give a few years back. Uh, I think there was a streaker at the Sports Festival?”

He laughs. “Good Memory. Yeah, that was one of our students. He didn’t have his Quirk under Control back then.”

“And you’ve got a broken bone now? Or is this just a check-up?”

“Bloodwork.”

“Yikes,” you pull a face, “me too. It’s the worst.”

“It is,” he agrees, dares to ask before he can lose his courage again. “Want me to hold your hand through the process?”

And it’s smooth, smoother than he’s ever been able to - maybe the absence of his friends does benefit his ability to flirt - and he might even get his hopes up for a second there - until your face falls.

“That’s really tempting, you know, but I… uh… my hands are hurting. That’s why I’m here, you know, to figure out why they’re hurting like this. So hand-holding is kinda a no-go.”

“Oh, I understand,” the dejection must be audible in his voice because you reach out for him, though you don’t take hold.

“But if you want,” you offer, voice a little breathless, “you could… uh… put your hand on my shoulder? It might look weird, but-”

“I’ve seen weirder things,” he offers and your smile lights up the room.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were coming in together,” Doc Oc greets him and for a moment he is paralyzed, frozen between two different emotions. Surprise, because Doc OC’s obviously familiar with you and he’s got the worst memory when it comes to names. Embarrassment, because it’s usually not the best thing if a Doctor remembers you by name, let alone this one.

“Ah,” you smile, “We met in the waiting room. Bloodwork, you now. It’s easier if it’s done together.”

“That I can agree with. Now, who wants to go first?”

-x-

“Now, I believe you owe me something,” Recovery Girl announces one afternoon, a big smile cutting into her wrinkly face. “What’s her name?”

“Huh?” Shouta had been busy reading through this week's assignment, deciphering the texts. Denki’s Handwriting almost requires a PHD in decoding.

“Doc Oc and I have been friends for quite some time. One would call us even… very close… if you know what I mean. He said you brought in lovely company.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess…” He can’t help but blush at her tone. Too much information.

“Well, are you going to ask her out? You cannot count this as your first date, surely? A fancy Dinner is a must.”

“A fancy Dinner is a must for whom?” Hizashi’s leaning around the door and Shouta groans. Of all people to overhear this.

“Shouta’s girlfriend.”

“Shouta has a girlfriend? Shouta, my man, why didn’t you tell me? Don’t you love me anymore? Your best friend?”

He crawls further into his sleeping bag, closing his eyes. Those assignments can wait, if he can fall in to a coma first, he-

-x-

“So?” Rumi leans against your Desk. “Did he call you?”

“Not yet,” you’re chewing on your lower lip, “But he’s probably busy.”

“Busy my ass,” she snorts angrily. “You’re a catch. If he doesn’t get a groove on you’re gone. He should know that.”

You level your friend - and boss - with a glare. “I’ve been single for a year.”

“Which he doesn’t know,” she sings. “But on another note, have you’ve gotten the results from your bloodwork? You know we only need that so we can get started on your hands-free Desktop.”

“Why do you sound more excited about this than I am?”

“Because you’re afraid of change and I am not. Just think, your hands will finally get to rest!”

“Yay,” you wave them around half-heartedly when your phone pings.

Rumi’s already grabbing it from your desk, always faster than you. “Oh, it’s your guy.” She hands it back. “Not looking.”

“Thank you for respecting my privacy,” you joke and open the short text only to gasp.

“He’s asking me out.”

“Great, so he’s not an idiot. Confirm.”

“No, no, he’s asking me out for a date tonight. You know how bad my legs have been today, I can’t show up with a cane.

“Why not?”

“Because,” you drag out, “the last time I did that there was no second date.”

“And you think he’s that shallow?”

“I just don’t want to jinx it.”

“Fine,” she huffs, crossing her arms. “Tell him you can’t tonight because you’re working late. Ask him if he’s able to reschedule for tomorrow or Friday.”

You hesitate, but do as you’re told.

“And now,” she grabs your bag as soon as you put your phone down, “you get your cute ass home and rest. I want you as fit as you can be tomorrow so you can enjoy that date.”

“But work-”

“Work is like my ex - it will always wait for you.”

-x-

“Fuck,” Shouta groans, head on his arms. The pain is strong today.

“You… uh… you good?” He hears a familiar voice from the door. Shit, he forgot about training with Hitoshi.

“Fantastic,” he grinds through his teeth though he does not dare to lift his head. Lunch was decent, but he doesn’t want to taste it again.

“Do you need Recovery Girl?”

“No, I’m going to be fine. Can you get me my painkillers from my bag? I would, but moving-”

“Sure, sure.” He can hear rustling and then a pill is dropped into his outstretched palm.

Slowly, carefully, he drags his arm back to pop it into his mouth, swallows it dry. He’s got loads of practice.

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be right as rain.”

“Uh, if you say so.”

He’s got a black eye.

He’s got a black eye and a date in about thirty minutes and the painkillers are making him particularly loopy today.

Hitoshi wouldn’t have been able to hit him in the face if his reaction time hadn’t been so slow. He’s lucky no bone is broken.

Something tells him that it we better to reschedule, but wouldn’t that make him look disinterested when he’s not?

“Mew.”

Shouta turns to the sound, surprised to see a black cat looking up at him. There’s a hedge there, and he bends down to pet the animal.

“You’re loud, huh?” He comments on the purring, taking a seat on the ground when his knees turn a little wobbly. He really is getting older.

The cat disappears into the hedge and he holds out a hand, making little sounds to lure her back out.

Just as he can spot the green eyes blinking back at him, a banknote is dropped into his hand.

“Here,” a voice says, “It’s cold out.”

Shouta freezes, only to look up into your face.

“Uh,” he makes, suddenly envious of Kaminari when he cooks his brain.

“I didn’t mean-” you say just as he exclaims loudly: “There’s a cat.”

“Where?” You ask, peering into the hedge. “I love cats.”

-x-

“This was nice,” you tell him after Dinner, the episode with the Cat now something you can laugh about. “Would you like to do it again sometimes?”

“Yes,” he nods slowly, “I’m sorry if I was a little loopy today. I took… uh, I forgot to take a nap.”

“Ah,” you smile, “You’re getting old too? If I don’t get my usual lunch nap I’m not so nice to be around.”

Shouta laughs. “Somehow I find that hard to believe. You’re very nice to be around.”

“You think so?” You ask, heart skipping a beat when he nods.

“How are your hands?” He looks down at them, “Can I hold them? Or do they still hurt?”

“If you don’t squeeze them I should be fine,” you say, praying that it’s the truth.

It is a little uncomfortable, if you were to tell the truth, but he’s gentle and your heart blooms at the implications.

If only you could put this moment in a jar, keep it for all the days where it’s hard to get up.

“So?” Rumi leans over your desk, grinning wide. “Gimme the scoop.”

“We went out, it was amazing, I don’t know when I’m going to see him again.”

“That’s not the scoop, that’s a short summary. I want every detail. Also, what does it mean you don’t know when you-”

The ringtone of your phone cuts her off. You take a peak only to gasp.

“It’s him. He’s calling.”

“Well, pick up. I’ll come back as soon as you’re finished. And I want all the details.”

It’s hard to find time for another date.

Shouta works two fulltime jobs and you’re overwhelmed with just one.

But he calls or texts every day, sending you pics of cats whenever he’s out on patrol.

It’s nice, but it could be nicer.

When he asks what you’re doing and you’re in bed, pain holding you down, you cannot tell him the truth. Because he doesn’t know the truth. And telling him over the phone seems insensitive.

Sometimes he sounds pretty loopy when he calls and you wonder if he’s getting enough sleep. But when you ask him about it he evades the question so masterfully, that you only remember it hours after the call.

“I think I have to come clean,” you tell Rumi one day during lunch, your hands in thick compression gloves to combat the pain. “This season is hitting me hard and I cannot postpone our next date again just because I cannot go anywhere without a cane.”

“I’m sure it’s going to go well. From what you’ve told me about him he seems very nice.”

“Yeah,” you sigh,”so nice I don’t want to lose him.”

-x-

Of all the moments for a migraine to hit, this has to be the worst.

Okay, maybe the second worst, because he’s not currently fighting someone.

But he’s been pressing his temple against the fridge doors of this Konbini for half an hour now, clearly unsettling the other shoppers, and his painkillers are far, far away in his car’s glove compartment.

Every time he thinks he’s got it now, turning away from the coldness has his lunch rise up in his throat.

“Shouta?” A familiar voice asks and the ice seeps into his veins. It’s you.

“No, I’m not Shouta. You must mistake me for someone else.”

“You’re wearing a nametag. Backward, but you’re wearing it.”

He sighs. “Can you just pretend you’re not seeing me?”

“I could, but why?”

“This is embarrassing.”

“I mistook you for a homeless man, I think we’ve already reached top embarrassment.”

“I’m having a Migraine.”

“See,” he can hear the encouragement in your voice, knows exactly how your mouth curls at the words even if he cannot see it. “That’s very low on the embarrassment list. Do you need a painkiller?”

“Yeah, but they’re in my car.”

“What are you using.”

“I doubt you have that. You can only get it via prescription.”

Shouta names it, hears you chuckle.

“Oh, you bet I got that. One pill is enough, right?”

“Right.” He can hear rustling before a pill is pressed into his hands. He swallows it dry.

“It will take me a minute to come to my senses.”

“No worry at all. I can stay here with you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Oh, but I want to. By the way… the Bloodwork… was that about your Migraine?”

“Yeah,” he swallows around the lump in his throat. “And other stuff.”

“Mhm.” Some more rustling.

“How did you get those pills by the way? You don’t work in a pharmacy, right?”

“Oh, no, I don’t deal drugs if that’s what you’re asking.” You laugh, but it tapes off awkwardly. “I… I suffer from chronic pain.”

“I’m sorry.”

You laugh again, but you don’t sound amused. “Yeah, me too.”

Silence settles between them. Slowly, the pain in his head eases into something manageable and he peels himself away from the cool glass to look at you.

You’re staring at the ground, a cane in your hands.

“I’m going to be pretty loopy for the rest of the day,” he tells you, lump in his throat, “But do you wanna grab a coffee after this?”

The surprise in your eyes tells you what he’d already assumed. You’re not used to people accepting your condition as something that just is.

“Might ask you some questions as soon as my head works properly again,” he adds like a threat, “but for now I’d just like to look at you. You’re really pretty.”

“You’re really loopy,” you giggle.

“Mhm, it’s going to get even worse, sugardrop.” His hand finds your elbow, careful to avoid your hands and you knock your head lightly against his shoulder.

You’re probably a weird-looking couple to the outside world, but he’s never cared much about that anyway.

#my writing #mha x reader #mha #bnha #bnha x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #aizawa fluff #aizawa #aizawa x you

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restinslices · 1 day

Note

Can I request a scenario where the lin kuei brothers, after rescuing the reader from an enemy who was torturing the reader, react to the hijacked!reader(idk, if you read/watched the hunger games especially mockingjay, if you didn't then hijacking in hunger games is a form brainwashing involving the venom of tracker-jackers(mutated wasps whose venom can cause hallucinations and can painfully kill a person) to alter the memories of a person in a negative manner), who reacts violently towards them and bring afraid of them, calling them a monster and verbally berating them.

I haven’t seen those movies in years but I watched some videos and looked at the wiki so I hope I got it right! I also added a Drabble for everyone as a “my bad” cause I took so long.

Also it is 5:09pm. The danger time (look at previous post. Weather shit) is until 7pm. I’m hoping we stay fine but bitch it’s raining and I hear thunder and saw lightning. Send help😭

Bitch I’m proof reading and my lights flickered-

Anger is much easier and better to feel than sadness or grief, so he forces himself to feel that instead

The second he realizes that you've been taken by enemies, he's in a rage

He's visibly more angry and harsh towards everyone

He hardly sleeps or lets himself relax because that means he's not looking for you

Someone could take a break to sit and he's asking why they aren't doing anything to help

Once you're found he's relieved and wants to see you immediately

All that stress slips from his shoulders when he sees that you're alive and safe

That stress is immediately dumped back on his shoulders when instead of pulling him into a hug, you run at him and wrap your hands around his throat

As you can imagine, he has no problem pushing you off, but he's thrown so off guard because why would he ever expect you to attack him?

You don't come to your senses and his confusion rises when you attack him again by jumping on him and trying to strangle him again

If you weren't trying to murder him, he'd be impressed with how you hang on despite how many times he's hit you

Having to knock you out takes a lot out of him mentally. I mean, come on y'all. You were missing for so long and instead of hugging and loving each other when you finally saw each other, you attacked him like a wild animal and he actually had to defend himself

When he's told what Hijacking is, all that anger comes back

Some sick fuck took you from him, tortured you in various ways and managed to change your memories to something negative. How could he not be angry? They destroyed you with such precision. It was sick.

Bi-Han is advised not to see you again. Anyone could guess that he wouldn't listen

He had hope that maybe you just needed rest, but that didn't seem to work

You forgot you were strapped down and tried to run at him again. You fussed with your straps in an attempt to get free and yelled in frustration

Bi-Han doesn't know what to say. In an attempt to comfort you, he says “we'll fix you”

“There's always something wrong with me, isn't there?” You sneered with resentment.

He kept talking to you and it seemed like no memory was left safe. Every single memory was tainted. The image of him was tainted. Why? Why did this have to happen to someone as kind as you? Why not to him? Or, as dick head-ish it sounded, a random Lin Kuei member?

All his efforts go to finding a way to reverse it. And I can see him being angry at Liu Kang because he can't reverse it. It fuels a resentment he already holds for him

“Grandmaster, I have been instructed to not let you in this room” a Lin Kuei member said in his best stern voice. Bi-Han didn't have time for this. He had just been informed that somehow Liu Kang couldn't save you, which made absolutely no sense to him. Liu Kang, this powerful god that created the universe itself couldn't fix this one person in the universe? Someone who deserved to be saved the most out of everyone?

“Your Grandmaster didn't give you this order, did I?”. The Lin Kuei swallowed hard and tried to stammer something out, but Bi-Han pushed him out the way and went inside the formally blocked room.

You looked over at him, still with hate in your eyes. Your brows were low, your mouth in a deep frown, your arms and legs strapped to the bed. Your face was less bruised than it was when you first arrived, so he guessed he was thankful for that.

“You look like shit” you said.

“I've been worried about you” he answered honestly.

“Bullshit. You lie. You always lie”

“Who told you that?” he stepped closer to you although he knew he shouldn't. “Our enemies made you think this. They lied to you. They tortured you because they knew it'd hurt me. Because I love you”. He wasn't sure he's loved anyone as much as he loves you. But you wouldn't believe him. You kept saying he was lying and you had no idea how much it killed him to see you, but not have you.

You stared at him blankly while thinking. You smirked at him and motioned for him to come even closer. He didn't though. The various wounds he had kept him from keeping hope of you changing.

“Do you think your father let out a sigh of relief when he realized he was dying and getting away from you? Your mother as well? Being around you is the worst torture imaginable and I can't wait until I'm set free too”.

Kuai Liang vows that he'll find and bring you back home no matter what

He's also uneasy and on edge the entire time

No stone is left unturned. He's checking every possible area and is suspicious of everyone

He knows you'll have some sort of trauma, so when you're found, he tries to give you space

Just enough time for doctors to look you over

When he visits you the last thing he expects is for you to do is scream and try to get away from him

He tries to get closer to you and comfort you but you keep screaming and accusing him of trying to hurt you

He's confused. He would never do such a thing to you. He hardly even play fought with you because he was so worried about him accidentally hurting you

You keep clinging to the doctors and yelling at him to stay away

He just doesn't understand how something like this can happen. He keeps trying to comfort you but you're terrified of him

He has to be dragged out because he doesn't wanna leave at all

When he's told what's happened to you he's confused how this is even possible and he wonders if he can ever get you back

It's not necessarily just “I want my partner back”. It's also “they didn't deserve to have their light taken away”

You stay terrified of him so he tries to stay away from you

He checks in when you're sleep and he peeks at you when you're not paying attention

A two way mirror is a way to watch you as well

Honestly he'd rather have you angry at him than afraid of him

You look so broken and shaken and it's killing him

The same way he vowed to find you is the same way he vows to save you

Meanwhile he has other people talk to you for him. He's trying to see if maybe someone else can make you realize that he's not some monster that you've been brainwashed to believe

It doesn't seem to work, but he keeps trying. He refuses to give up on you.

Kuai Liang was warned that this could possibly be a bad idea, but he didn't care. What was he supposed to do? Not try? Just let you sit and rot? No. Maybe he didn't have any magical abilities that could cure you, but he could still try.

He watched through the 2 way mirror as Tomas approached you. You were a lot nicer to him and more comfortable around him. As bad as it sounded, it made him feel awful that Tomas was your comfort instead of him.

Tomas tried to ease you into a conversation about Kuai Liang and he watched you tense and sit up. Did you think he was going to rush in and attack you? No. There had to be some parts of you still in there.

“Kuai Liang isn't a bad person. You've been lied to-”

“He killed your family”.

Tomas cleared his throat, uncomfortable. “Kuai Liang was too young to-”

“They’re all killers!” You snapped. “They'll kill me! He'll kill me! Did he send you in here to weaken me?!” You looked around the room in fear and Kuai Liang stupidly ran in there to comfort you as a reflex.. He realized his mistake when he caught your eye and you fell out of your bed trying to get away.

“HE'S HERE!” You screeched like a banshee and crawled to the farthest wall. “HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE!”. Tomas gripped Kuai Liang’s shoulders and pushed him away. He knew he shouldn't have been in there, but a part of him still fought back against the younger man.

“GET AWAY! GET AWAY FAST! HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE! HE'LL HURT ME!” You kept screaming and clawed at your face.

Tomas closed the door in Kuai Liang’s face with a remorseful look. The man stayed there and listened to you scream and destroy things around you. He didn't move or cover his ears. He deserved to listen. It was his punishment for not finding you in time.

This is gonna sound bad, but when you go missing, he already assumes you're dead

Hope for the best but prepare for the worst type shit

He's no stranger to death and obviously he doesn't WANT you to be dead, but he prepares himself for if that's the case

Don't think he's not searching tho. He’s always looking for you. He's not even eating

When they find you he's so relieved

He has the doctors tell him how you are because as much as he wants to see you, he knows he gotta let them do their job

He feels so bad because all the reports he's getting are terrible. Each bruise he's told about shatters him

He brings flowers when he's finally allowed to visit you

When you attack him he's thrown completely off guard

He doesn't even really defend himself at first because he's never had to defend himself from you

At first he thinks you're angry with him because he failed to protect you. When he's told what really happened, he wished it was the first one instead

He blames himself for not protecting you, so he'd understand that

You being tortured and your memories being toyed with? It was terrible. He'd say he wished the tables were turned and he was tortured, but he'd never want you to feel how he feels

He keeps trying to communicate with you but you keep screaming and trying to kill him

Honestly he'd deal with all of that without any complaints. He just keeps being told it's not a good idea and not good for your recovery

The insults, the foul language, the physical attacks, none of it hurts as much as the knowledge that there's a possibility he won't get you back

He has gifts sent to you but never says it's from him

He has old pictures sent to you too hoping that it'll spark something

He'll keep trying to save you even if it kills him

Tomas’ heart thumped hard and rapidly in his chest as he walked to your room, bouquet in hand. He knew flowers wouldn't solve whatever happened to you, but he hoped it'd cheer you up somewhat. He had finally been allowed to visit you after what felt like forever and while he wasn't happy to see how bad you looked, he was happy to see you alive.

He pushed the door open and your frame came into view. Bandages covered the bruises on your face and body, but thankfully you had showered since you arrived. He hoped feeling clean gave you a sense of relief or peace. He just hoped you felt better.

You saw Tomas and your brows furrowed- no. That couldn't be. You wouldn't look at him like… nah.

“Tomas?” You said.

“It's me”. He turned to set the flowers down and immediately heard people yelling your name. He turned, scared he'd see you having some sort of medical complication. What he didn't expect was to feel you shove him against the wall then onto the ground.

“MUTT! POISONOUS MUTT!”. He screamed as he felt something pierce his shoulder. It was a scissor. He hadn't even seen you grab it. How were you that fast and why were you doing this?

“Stop!” he shouted. You stared at him with loathing and hatred, which was something he couldn't wrap his head around. He winced when you pulled the scissor out.

He blocked you from stabbing him in the chest. You looked angered and pushed on your hand to try and stab him. “What's wrong with you?” he whispered, his eyes wide in fright.

The scissor was ripped from your hand and you were pulled off him by multiple doctors and others who heard the commotion. He got to his feet and watched as you kept trying to break free from their grip.

“MUTT! POISONOUS MUTT!” You repeated. “HE KILLED HIS FAMILY! HE'LL LEAD US TO OUR DEMISE! POISON! TOXIC!I HAVE TO KILL HIM!” You screeched and kept struggling. He held his bloodied shoulder in disbelief.

What had happened to you?

Once again, apologies it took so long. My writing break was timed POORLY

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en-geneisaxx · 2 days

Text

Case: L̶O̶V̶3A̶N̶D̶R̶3V̶3N̶63

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞!𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: 𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖚𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗, 𝖒𝖆𝖋𝖎𝖆, 𝖌𝖚𝖓𝖘, 𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊, 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉, 𝖒𝖉𝖓𝖎 (𝖒𝖙𝖇𝖆)

𝚂𝚢𝚙𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝙹𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜. 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕: 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚎. 𝙰 𝚝𝚒𝚙 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢, 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚊 𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚐. 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢/𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎.

𝘈/𝘯: 𝘏𝘪 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴!! 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺, 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘤. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 '𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯-𝘵𝘩𝘦-𝘨𝘰' 𝘴𝘵𝘺𝘭𝘦, 𝘴𝘰 𝘐'𝘮 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 :(

Likes, reblogs and/or following me will be much appreciated!!

Preview:

Something had to go wrong. Nothing, and I repeat, 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ever goes perfect, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫.

That thought never left my mind, but, why waste such a perfect day with doubts and worries? No, I would regret that.

Turns out, it was going to be regretful either way.

I allowed myself to live in the blissful hours, alone, forgetting about my loving family. The levitating feeling, one that I was desperate for, was a curse. Forget about the sunshine, it was always at home, always with my family.

As the sun gave its goodbyes for the day, I rush over to my house, bringing along the foods and toys I, out of pitiful luck, managed to acquire without a coin to pay; I was grateful mother nature gave me the treasures on my outing in the woods today.

I didn't walk, I skipped instead, with such joy to be able to provide the family and, I have to admit, to hear the praises with such pride in their voice, all accompanied by their heart-warming smiles. My young sister would be preoccupied with the stuffed teddy bear, something that must've been lost by its owner. I thanked the universe for this gift, but felt bad for whoever lost such a prize. I had to, mentally, thank them too.

It's strange, how a nine-year-old could be so mature yet so youthful, especially someone with a heart of an angel. God's child they say, but would it be even if she took the wrong turn? What would happen to her once Satan interfered with her bubbly life, turning it into a nightmare that will be engraved in her memories?

Each skip to the house was a step closer to the dreaded ending, one that'll make her turn into a 'monster'.

No one is a monster, it's just that we can be hurt so badly it affects our morals, and it dims our pure light.

The sky has dressed in its black attire, mourning the lifeless bodies that lay in a house with foundations of love.

It starts to rain, for the clouds know what to expect when an innocent child has to face hell instead of the welcoming arms of care and comfort. It'll be scary, how quickly a baby must mature, and survive with an overwhelming feeling of agony, hatred, and vengeance.

"Eomma, Appa, sister!" You announced your arrival, yet it felt oddly strange. The lights are off, and the door is slightly open. You slow down, taking cautious steps towards the front door, with one thought in mind: 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫.

It's terrifying you, you're unprepared, and it's so late at night, a chance for young minds to bring its fears into reality.

Who would come into your house, let alone leave it in such a state...unless they never left.

You're petrified at this moment, heart beating in such an abnormal pace, your body is so stiff it's like you need to run away. But what about your family? You can't abandon them.

One step...two...three. There, lies the sinful acts displayed in the living room. One, two, three bodies who looked exactly like the people you love covered in blood when they shouldn't have. And a mysterious figure in the darkness, presenting a disgusting smile, as if killing was nothing.

Tagging: @pockettwinzz @potatohoon @diorsyun @heeslomll @hoonieshoneymain @rinbowaman @sungvrhs @emi-en @jaylaxies @velvetkisscs @dollywons

#en-geneisaxx #enhypen #fyp #engene #kpop #enha #fanfic #enhypen jake #enhypen jake x y/n #enhypen jake x reader #mafia au #detective #angst #enhablr #writer

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youwouldntdownloadapizza · 2 days

Text

The Gates of Jackson | Joel Miller x F!Reader | Chapter 6 - The Lodge

masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates

You showed up at the gates of Jackson with hands covered in blood and no memory of how you got there. That was two years ago. Since then, you've become Maria's right-hand woman and the person in charge of Jackson's logistical backend. Patrol schedules, inventory—all your purview. When a patrol gone wrong forces you to get to know Joel, memories of your past begin resurfacing—along with their consequences.

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pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.1k

tags: no use of y/n, eventual smut, no beta we die like sarah, jackson era, other additional tags to be added, slow burn, ellie needs a hug, joel lives, good parent joel, reader-insert, reader insert, forced proximity, only one bed trope, nightmares, childbirth, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, soft joel, cuddling & snuggling, fluff, masturbation, pining, joel falls first, possibly demisexual reader (tbd), ptsd, ptsd flashbacks, panic attacks, amnesia, sexual braiding

Chapter 6 - The Lodge

A light rain had begun to fall by the time you reached the lodge. The dirt trail quickly turned to mud, and the horses’ hooves squelched with every step. You braced yourself, sliding off Bailey’s back and landing in the stuff with a resolute plop .

Though you’d had the foresight to waterproof your boots, water and mud were two very different beasts. You’d probably be scrubbing dirt out of your laces for a good long while once you got home. Which at this rate felt like it may not happen until well after you died of old age.

Sodden and starving, you tethered Bailey to a post and approached the front porch.

“More breaking and entering?” Joel asked as you crouched to a squat before the door.

“Nope.” You flipped up the corner of the doormat to reveal a hidden key. “Consider us lodge-sitters.”

“Aren’t you worried about break-ins?” Joel asked.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Joel, but this region isn’t exactly overflowing with people. And if any do find this place…” You trailed off as you slid the key in the lock, glancing up to meet his eyes. “Well, has a locked door ever stopped you?”

Before he could answer, you pushed through the door and stepped into the mercifully well-insulated structure.

The place was pretty bare-bones, with empty storage shelves built into one wall and a threadbare couch pushed up against another. The worn-down dregs of what had once been carpet covered the concrete subfloor here and there.

Despite it all, the sofa beckoned. You sank into it, backpack sandwiched between you and the rear cushions, and sighed.

Then Joel had the audacity to block your light.

“Can I help you?” you asked, opening one eye to glare up at him.

“What’s the plan?”

“Logbook. Linner. Leave.” You counted out the steps of your incredibly thorough plan on frozen fingertips.

“Linner?”

“We’re well past lunchtime. Not quite to dinner. It’s linner, the brunch of the afternoon.”

“That is so goddamn stupid.”

Even with your eyes closed, you could hear the smile in his voice. That is so goddamn adorable .

Joel trailed off towards the only other thing in the room, an old podium atop which rested the dusty, leather-bound logbook. A clicky pen sat nestled between the pages, bearing words he’d never expected to read again, let alone here:

Dr. Neil Henry, DDS - Austin Community Dentistry

He laughed, holding up the pen to show you.

“You know this used to be my dentist, back in Austin?”

“Did it now?” You smirked.

“Dr. Henry. Always used to nag me about flossin’,” he reminisced.

“Did it work?”

“No,” he chuckled. “Not ‘till after the outbreak, anyhow. No one’s around to give you a root canal nowadays. I’d rather not need one.”

“Fair point,” you said, well aware of the hypocrisy as you gnawed on an extraordinarily tough chunk of jerky.

Your eyes swept the stunning vista visible through the lodge’s massive windows. They reminded you of the ones in your office, and in the lookout tower. There was something about them that put you at ease, which made no sense whatsoever. They were glass, and not even particularly thick glass at that. Much like life before the outbreak, they were an illusion of security at best.

But still, you liked them.

Joel followed your gaze, and his breath caught in his throat at the view. It was beautiful. Not quite as magnificent as this morning’s sunrise had been, but still breathtaking.

“Wow,” he whispered.

“Pretty, huh?” you answered without looking back.

“It’s like a screensaver. Or a wallpaper or somethin’.” Joel mused, eyes wide in awe.

“Hmm,” you mused. “Mine used to be a picture of the Great Wall of China.”

“Why’s that?”

“It was the default,” you sighed, picking out the raisins from your trail mix. “But also I’ve always thought ruins were cool as shit.”

“Plenty of those to be had nowadays,” he said.

“Too many, if you ask me.”

You both chewed in silence for a minute, watching the birds coming home from their winter vacations.

“You know Eugene leaves jokes in here?” Joel broke the silence.

“I did.”

“You hear his latest?”

“Hit me with it.”

“Alright,” Joel turned to face you, smile wide. “What do we want? Low-flying planes! When do we want ‘em? Nyeowwww.” He mimed a plane diving with his finger, eliciting a chuckle from you.

“That’s one of his better jokes.”

“Yeah, the man’s no Will Livingston.”

You smiled. You were intimately familiar with Livingston’s work, ever since Ellie decided to thank you for her new light-up sneakers with a selection of the punster’s greatest hits.

There was no need for a security sweep after you’d finished eating. The whole place was only a couple of rooms, and you’d already checked the perimeter before entering.

“Go get the horses ready,” you instructed. “I’ll finish up here.”

You scribbled your report in the logbook and tucked away the remnants of linner, swinging your pack over your shoulders before taking one last look at the view.

It was golden hour, and the sun hit the clouds in a way that transcended any screensaver comparison. It was as if you’d been granted a glimpse of heaven itself.

* * *

You watched from the porch as Joel took a drink from his canteen. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the chiseled scruff of his jawline–from an objective standpoint, the man certainly had a rugged charm to him. But he was far from the only cowboy type in Jackson. And this was far from your first rodeo.

As Joel tucked the canteen away, he remembered the outside pocket of his pack. It held loose bullets and some of Ellie’s hair ties, but most importantly, it held a ballpoint pen.

As he heard you turn the key in the lock, he called out.

“Hang on! I forgot something.”

Unlocking the door once more, you ushered Joel inside.

He jogged over to the logbook with his offering, swiftly swapping it out for the one with a touch of home. He was halfway to the door when his brain caught up with his eyes and he turned on the spot to inspect your logbook entry.

All clear, no signs of raiders or infected.

It wasn’t the description that jarred him. It was the names. His, of course, was transcribed in loopy cursive, the standard, un-misspell-able ‘Joel Miller’. Beside it was a nickname–no, a last name –preceded by a first name that brought everything into focus:

Jane Doe.

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chapter notes:

New chapter! Yay!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sorry for the long gap between updates, life has been cray.

Big Jane Doe reveal oooh!!! I would never blatantly rip off Yearling like that don't worry!!!!!!!!!! @justagalwhowrites BIG FAN THO

Curious to hear everyone's thoughts on this chapter and what's coming next, I legit have been planning out this whole fic with a very elaborate color-coded notecards-on-corkboard setup (I am, in fact, a virgo). So more fun stuff coming hopefully sooner rather than later.

Comments make me type faster!

Love you all so much, and thank you for reading! I got really creatively blocked during the writers' strike and getting back into fanfic writing has been incredibly healing. Grateful for you all.

taglist: @aspecialgreenie

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller series #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #no use of y/n #joel miller x f!reader #jackson era #joel lives #ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #pedro pascal

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wrathofrats · 13 hours

Text

Mushy May Day 22

long drives- rulti- swiss rain talk while cirrus sleeps in the back seat. Things are changing around the abbey, and rain looks to stop the ache in his bones.

As usual thank you to icon @forlorn-crows for the prompts this month

The street lights illuminated cirrus’s sleeping form in the back seat. Laid across the cushions with her hands under her head as a makeshift pillow, her knees scrunched up to fit in the confined space.

“Remind me to call dibs first next time” rain grumbled in the passenger seat, his own legs bunched up against him in an attempt to get comfortable after the long car ride.

Swiss tapped his hands on the steering wheel rhythmically, long miles of highway and nothing else in front of them. “Then who would keep me company up here?”

“Cirrus, duh.”

“Cirrus needs her sleep otherwise she gets irritable, I think you should let her have it” Swiss took a quick glance behind him to look at her. Her hair covered her face as she snored softly.

“I need my sleep, otherwise I get irritable” rain grumbled, throwing his head back against the head rest.

“I know tadpole” Swiss giggled.

The radio hummed softly in the background. A static station that played mostly old rock music, nothing Swiss or rain cared much about but it was better than silence.

They sat in a comfortable state of not talking for a couple minutes. Rain shifted in his seat a couple times to try and quell the dull ache in his hips while Swiss continued to keep his eyes on the road, side glancing rain and cirrus every once in a while just to be sure they were alright.

“I’m surprised she’s been asleep this whole time, usually she tends to get carsick” rain spoke after a while.

“She’s been stressed, I’m glad she’s finally been able to knock out for a bit” Swiss gave his own yawn, raising an arm above his head in an attempt to stretch in the small space.

“Has she not been sleeping again?”

“Na, she’s been in my bed most nights. Usually she has cumulus to calm her down but even with me it wasn’t much. I could tell she was still awake most of the night”

It was typical of cirrus to be a bad sleeper, but the stress of everything recently didn’t help. it was most of the reason she would slink into Swiss’s hotel room on the trip because she was sure he would be up at whatever ungodly hour she had decided to give up on sleeping alone. Even if he was asleep, she knew he would understand more than anyone.

“You’ve been stressed too, I can tell” rain moved to turn the radio down. The static was almost too much, both knowing that the changes around the abbey had been getting to them.

“I’m fine tadpole, things will blow over”

The passing lights created patterns on rains lap as he stared down in thought. Dancing shapes and reflections to distract his eyes as his brain continued to mull over the situation. Aether and Sunny would be gone, moved to where the older ghouls all stayed.

Sure they were still there in the abbey, but there was always a worry that they would move on and have fun with the older ghouls instead, or that the rest of their pack would embrace the new ghouls so much that aether Sunny would be left forgotten as he knows the other have been. Rain doesn’t remember the last time he saw River and lake.

“But will they be the same?”

Swiss sighed, chewing on his lip. There wasn’t a good answer.

“No, but nothing ever really stays the same does it?”

“No it doesn’t.” Rain sighed. A heavy feeling settled in his chest at the thought. Realistically nothing could ever stay exactly the same always, but the fear of the unknown was always present.

“You can’t stop time waterlily. Things will always work out, they always have. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it”

“It’s a bit too late for that”

“I know, but good things happen with change too. Just embrace it and we can deal with whatever problems arise together ok?”

Rain smiled, leaning back into his seat. The promise of together lessening the pressure in his chest. He turned to look back at cirrus, who had rolled over to face the back of the backseats.

“Ok”

#mushy may 2024 #mushy may #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #fanfic #the band ghost #ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #wrath writes

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sockysucks · 2 days

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HI TUMBLR!!

ive come to create a incredibly lengthy post about the new mascot horror game called Indigo Park

I need to ramble ( haha rambley ) about it as i have just quit twitter for an indefinite time for my own mental health as an autistic cannot last on there at all

anyway, im going to talk about all the reason why indigo park is so good and what i hope from it!! and any criticisms i have for it, i honestly dont have many even though its so early to talk about.

how i found out about indigo park:

UNIQUEGEESE!! naturally, i was watching one of masons past streams on his youtube playing FNF after having rejoined the FNF community after its update and finding out about the mod HIT SINGLE; the mod masons was playing( people know it mostly for the silly billy song ) and he had mentioned about him making a mascot horror game which i shrugged off naturally because i am not a fan of modern mascot horror as most of it seems to be low effort and genuinely unappealing, i knew he had made something that was definitely made with love but i didnt have the will to check it out until a announcement trailer dropped which i then saw snippets of the game and the characters and environment, which i was definitely intrigued so I played the game myself.

My thoughts playing the game:

and found it surpisingly good compared to any other mascot horror game, it was unique, genuinely had awesome character designs and very high quality’s graphics and beautiful models and lighting were stunning, again really surprised having endured the hideousness of other low quality mascot horror games, to then find a game with fucking great models ( unlike banban, 2 billion polygon remote or whatever lmfao ).

I started the game and to be real as a extremely gay furry who loves little silly furry boys i felt like i was gonna explode during every single rambley voice line and animation played and fell so in love with him, now a massive comfort character and ive draw. him like 12 times prior to the games first chapter being released like 2 days ago lol, ive never gotten so attached so quicky in my life which definitely makes rambley and indigo park a really special game.

I really love this game, the pacing is really well done, the horror isnt low quality, the like actual character models for lloyd and molly are really gorgeous, i just think the hair and some of the texturing is over done slightly, but definitely made me shit myself multiple times despite this, all while i was laughing with my new silly raccoon boyfriend 💜💜💜💜

hugeeeeww shoutout to team neutron for the the absolute gorgeous expressive rambley screen animations and the credits theme that left me almost tbe same way portal 2’s credits effected me the first time i ever played and definitely huge huge props to otterboyva for the super adorable voice of rambley.

what do I hope for the future of Indigo Park

I hope for the future of this game that content farms and bootleggers disregard it, but this doesnt give me hope seeing that one rambley plush that a company made before the first chapter even released that was completely unlicensed. I will be avoiding social media in efforts to not see people start shitting on this game if it becomes on the same level and milked by content farms like what happened to the amazing digital circus ( i watched this on the day the pilot released, and was equally devastated as many others to see it being used as low effort bait in shitty kids cartoons on youtube shorts )

in case you didnt see i did a little animation at the top of this!! very rough but yeah

I love tgis game PLEASEEEE i cannot wait to see more high quality content from this really passionate creative team uniquegeese/mason has formed

in case you wanted to play it for yourself, heres a link to the steam page!! the first chapter is free and a kickstarter started a couple days ago has been completed funded so…. CHAPTER 2 IS CONFIRMED!!

#indigo park #rambley the raccoon #indigo park rambley #good mascot horror

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keruimi · 2 days

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Lingering Gazes

Pairing: Bokuto Koutaro x reader

Warning: Slight Angst and Fluff

Note: I don't know how to write it better but I deeply relate to the reader. I love calm boys like Akaashi but Bokuto took my entire attention away. Hope you all enjoy!

_____________________________

When I was a kid, I always wanted someone to like me. The smart ones, and boys who can provide a good future for the both of us.

And the more I grew up, I found myself getting interested with the stoic and cool leading man in every drama I watch.

Someone who will gently treat me better than other girls. The type of man who is the dream of every lady.

And I thought I would never change that standard, even if those type of boys were the one who badly broke me.

Until I surprisingly found myself falling in love with the volleyball Ace of the Academy.

Bokuto Koutaro whose presence can immediately light up the day of the students he passed by with.

Like the Sun in my world. Like a medicine that can heal my wounds.

He is the opposite of who I wanted. Yet loving him felt so right.

But I am aware that I will just be another stranger in his eyes. An average student who is part of the audience who watched him play on the court.

Even if he is friendly, he still seems too far for me to reach.

A remarkable volleyball player in the history of the Academy.

I'm sure the type of man who will already make a name in the country would want someone as great as them.

No matter who they are. And it was discouraging.

Until that far admiration on the Ace gradually closes its distance when all the students are called to the gym for announcements.

My eyes never left his figure who kept showing his bubbly side to his friends who just keep up with the topic of his talking about.

A small smile made its way to my lips when I saw how happy he is everyday.

An unusual emotion to feel with the stress the school has given to us. That sometimes it made me think if he ever felt negative since he seems to be the only lifting up the mood.

A difficult role he manages to easily fill up.

"Y/n, what food did you bring today?" My classmate's voice made me immediately remove my gaze from the man before they look at where I have my eyes set on.

"Sushi" I whispered before I started to offer it to them and like a flock of hungry animals, they started asking for me which I always agreed on until I heard his excited voice in front of me.

"Can I have some too?"

"Bokuto-san" I heard his favorite's setter disbelief making my smile a bit bigger.

"Of course Bokuto-san. You can have the rest"

His eyes seemed to brighten up more when I lent him the container that has 5 more sushi as he gradually took it.

I can feel my cheeks getting warmer that made me start looking for my mask just to cover up the smile that is threatening to get bigger the longer he stayed complimenting the food I gave.

"L/n-san, my apologies for him"

"Did you make this? It's the best sushi I have eaten" Bokuto cut him off while still chewing the food that made my heart swell more.

It was the opportunity I took to get closer to the Ace.

I mean, it goes with the saying...

One way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

And with a man like Bokuto, that can mostly happen.

Small things can make him happy. That it pushed me to start learning how to sketch just to draw the grins that lift from his lips because of me.

Just to help me engrave that memory as one of the happiest moments in my life.

Because in even another way, I still manage to interact with my biggest crush in my entire life.

It was an accomplishment that made me different from who I was before when I just secretly liked him.

Now I started to openly show it.

And I know the people around him also began to notice.

How my eyes linger longer on his retreating back. The way my eyes seem to spark when I watch him play the sport he deeply loved.

The way I shakily gave him the bento I made for him.

It was obvious actions that he didn't think of deeper.

And it made me dejected that if I don't confess now, only my eyes would look at him with fondness.

And the hope of it returning will never happen if I stop moving.

That brought me in front of the gym doors with the sketchbook in my hands.

The best gift I can think of is to portray my feelings.

Is to show him how I look at him.

It was a lot of deep breaths before I mustered up the courage to knock on the door until his teammates teasing voice became more clear.

"We knew it!"

"Akaashi! This is your fault! You promise to not tell them!" I heard his screeching voice that made me put a hand on my mouth to suppress the giggle that is attempting to escape from my lips.

Until I stopped when I heard the next word of his friends.

"Bokuto, it's obvious that you like her. It is not difficult to know how you seem to be happier when she appears in your view!" Konoha's words stab an arrow straight to my heart when it reaches my ears.

He likes someone?

I stood silent in front of the gym door as thoughts began to appear on my head.

Who is it?

Is it fine for me to hope that it would be me?

Is she someone he knows?

Is he really in love with someone right now?

"Bokuto-san, why don't you just confess to L/n-san?" It made me snap from my train of thoughts when the familiar voice of his setter stated those words.

L/n...

Me?

"But Akaashi" my mind went blank from the conversation I am eaves dropping on right now but it didn't fail me to imagine that the Ace is pouting right now.

"Wow" I muttered breathlessly from the new revelation.

The happiness I felt was unexplainable and only the thing I did to save myself from humiliation is to back away and start running away from the gym.

Just to let this happiness be expressed.

"Oh my gosh" I felt tears form in my eyes as I stood in the school garden with the sketchbook on the bench.

I can't prevent the squeals that bubble up in my throat as I jump around in delight.

His untold feelings made me happy.

And at that time, I am not aware of how his eyes my energetic figure around the garden.

All this time...

His eyes also lingered on my form.

Like how my eyes watch him

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