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baddiewiththebook · 7 months

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ONE OF THE BOYS [PART 3]

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n Oh, my god. When I tell y’all that everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. I stayed up all night writing and editing just to get it out today, so you don’t have to wait another week when I’m off from work again. Yesterday, I was going to surprise y’all with a back to back upload, but when my laptop died and all of my content got deleted, I needed a pause. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Part 3 of a series I didn’t know would become a series.

[Part 2] Part 3

-> <-

You decide to wake up at five because your eyes wouldn’t stay shut any longer. Ripping the blankets off your body, the cool air nips at your skin. You shove your toes into your slippers. Tripping over your tennis shoes, you rethink how close you are to your desk. Feeling around for the corner, you find the desk and you begin to aim yourself the other way. You yelp when your waist collides into the doorknob and you silently curse to yourself while trying desperately not to wake your family. Shuffling through the dark, you take mini steps to your bathroom.

Closing the door behind you, you flick on bathroom light. Squinting, your eyes adjust and the shock of the bright room dulls. You use the toilet first, before your bladder combusts. While washing your hands, you meet your own face in the mirror.

Mornings weren’t your best look. Your hair mats to one side because you’re a side sleeper. Sometimes when your sick you’ll lay on your back to keep your stomach from getting nauseous. Instead of drying your hands on a towel, you toss them back into your hair to mold and shape what’s on your head. Massaging your scalp, you forget your worries for a moment. You wash your hands of the hair that sticks to your hands, and then you dry them off.

You bounce back from the shower when you twist the hot water handle. Water splashes in your face anyway. Steam breathes into your bathroom and you almost feel suffocated by the hot air. That’s what wakes you up in the morning. You strip, then step inside allowing the beads of hot water to bake your skin. The soap you use is plain and boring. It moisturizes the layers of your skin without leaving a scent behind. You watch the bubbles drain below you.

Leaving the shower is harder to you then getting back in. Your day will begin as soon as you step out. Going to school feels like a chore. Your classes all have projects due by the end of the week or by the end of the month. Then there’s the obvious boy you are trying to avoid. Before you can imagine any lewd situations between yourself and him (and trust that you have plenty), you switch off the water to your shower.

You don’t like washing your face in hot water, so you wait until your dry and you have a towel wrapped around your body. The icy water pricks at your pores. You dry, and you apply a thick layer of moisturizer to your skin.

Finding yourself vulnerable in a towel, and thrown into darkness once again because you have forgotten your clothes in your bedroom, you shimmy across the hallway once again.

When you choose a lotion, you act as though you won’t pick the same option you have been for as long as you can remember. The label reads ‘Fruity.’ Simple enough. Throwing on an extra spritz of perfume to compliment the lotion. You like to spray perfume while you’re bare to ensure the smell sticks to you, rather than your clothes.

Wrapping yourself in your robe, you want to take a peak at the sky. Rain clouds form above. Gray all day. You happen to, also, see that Eddie’s trailer is dark. Wayne Munson’s truck is on, and he’s in the driver’s seat waiting for the engine to warm. He goes to work early, and he stays late. That’s how you got to spend so many days and nights at Eddie’s growing up.

You’d tell your mom that you were spending the night with your friend Robin, and she would cover for you in a heartbeat. She must have known what was going on before you did. Did that even count - if you didn’t know?

You shy away from the window.

Going through your closet, you find an acceptable pair of denim that’s right on your hips and loose at your ankles. The striped sweater you call your favorite will scratch at you skin all day, so you put on a plain shirt on underneath.

If the you from a few months ago, saw you sitting at your desk whipping out all of the tools and the sponges that it took to apply makeup to your skin, you’d shrivel in a corner and cry. You got used to the feeling of the brushes against your skin. The way your face feels with a bit of foundation. And the sticky feeling of mascara pressing on your eyes.

As you finish powdering your nose, your stomach growls. Your hungry.

The sun is beginning to wake, and you’re able to move through the home a bit smoother. You find yourself in the kitchen pawing through the refrigerator. No one has gone grocery shopping in a few weeks, so your options are limited.

You take the box of Honey Comb cereal off the top of the fridge. A bowl off the drying rack will do, and there’s even a spoon next to it. You pluck out your mom’s cigarettes that she “hides” inside the box. She doesn’t count them when she smokes, so you know that you can sneak one into your pocket for later.

After pouring yourself a bowl of cereal, and stealing your mom’s cigarettes, you grab the milk from the fridge. It’s heavy. When you open the milk the rancid sour odor spoils your appetite.

“Jesus!” You curse.

The expiration reads about a week ago. Gross.

You toss the milk.

Even though you’re completely grossed out, you shovel a few bites of dry cereal down your throat. Dipping your head under the sink for a drink of water, you slurp down the crumbs sticking to the sides of your mouth.

By the time you’ve brushed your teeth, your watch reads seven fifteen in the morning. If you head to school now, you’ll be there by seven thirty.

That’s exactly what you do.

The drive is quiet. Most of the town hasn’t woken yet for their day. Shops still have signs in their window that read ‘Closed.’

You’re allowed into the cafeteria with the other early birds once you get to school. Finding a group of girls you’re in home room with, they welcome you for a study session.

“You look so pretty,” Michelle gushes over your makeup.

You smile. “You too. I love your shirt.”

“I got it on sale,” she tells you the name of the store. “We should all go shopping on Saturday.”

“Girls day out!” Lisa snaps her fingers. “Count! Me! In!”

The three of you small chat for a bit, before you dive into your awaiting assignments. They’re there to help you. You reciprocate the action when they want advise.

The school bell rings.

You pack up, and you wave goodbye for now. But, you’ll see them again in just a few moments when you get to class.

Heading to your locker for the first time in months, you have to try the code twice. The third time’s the charm. You take the specimen in your locker between your index and your thumb. Finding the nearest trash can, you throw the moldy sandwich away. At least the smell hadn’t penetrated through the bag yet.

You’re just zipping up your backpack after ridding yourself of about a hundred pounds of unnecessary textbook weight when someone shouts at the end of the hall.

Petty squabbles between students, you’re usually able to ignore. However, as all the noise is headed in your direction, you hear your name in between cursed and yells. A catastrophic tornado blows your way. Your feet are firm to the ground in terror.

Roxie’s purple, and about to blow a blood vessel judging by the vein nearly popping out of her neck. Hot on her trail is petite Indie, who’s begging for Roxie to just listen to her.

“Hey, you!” Roxie jabs her finger in your face.

Indie tumbled over her own feet, “Roxie!”

You check over your shoulder in hopes that someone might be there. No one is there except a few onlookers she’s drawn in her tirade. Now, you’re thinking. Eddie couldn’t have spilt the beans this quickly. Could he?

“Oh, I’m coming for you, bitch,” she snarls.

You’re toast.

Roxie is larger than you in all retrospects, but she’s especially big in muscle. If she’s about to pummel you, then you’ll be knocked over and split in two like a pin and she’s the ball going a hundred miles an hour.

“Can’t we talk this out?” Indie asks through gasps of air.

You stare between them. Indie isn’t after you by the worried expression she holds. Still unsure exactly what Roxie’s prattling on about, you decide to wait before you interject.

“Is there something going on between you and Eddie?” Roxie demands.

See, you knew their relationship wasn’t casual! Still, you did nothing wrong. Yesterday, you didn’t even express to Eddie that you liked him in the first place. You wanted to drop the conversation, and he kept going. This is his fault. Why isn’t he about to get a fist to the face? Who’s to say he hasn’t already? Yikes.

Roxie sucks her tongue to her teeth.

“Uh-,” you’re still loading in the information, and you hesitate to answer right away. “N- no?”

“Is that a question?” Her hot breath hits your nose.

You bring your hands down to your sides because you can’t let her see you trembling like a leaf. If she smells fear, she’ll know she’s won. Her prey is hers for the taking.

You’re tired of this. “Eddie and I have nothing going on. We’re just- just friends.”

You have a hard time saying that, but not for the reasons that Roxie has in mind. You’re not even sure if Eddie wants to be your friend anymore.

“Okay,” she sticks her tongue into the flesh of her jaw, and then says. “How come last night he moaned your name instead of mine?”

Blood rushes to your ears. Your face is on fire, and you’re sure everyone can see so.

Onlookers jeer and whisper amongst themselves. Rumors are already beginning from mouth to mouth; and, hitting ear to ear.

You would also like to understand what she meant by “moaning your name.” Spare the details. Obviously, you knew what happened last night. You wipe the winner’s smirk off your face, before Roxie even notices.

“I don’t know,” you fold your arms across your chest. “Shouldn’t you ask him?”

Roxie squares her shoulders. She clenched her fists until her knuckles are white. Cursing a few more angry words your way, she’s a bull ready to charge. You might as well be wearing all red.

“What’s going on here?!”

Miss Brown sticks her nose into the hallway and notices the crowd of people. Before anyone can do anything rash, she pushes her way into the center of the chaos. With an ostentatious sort of sigh that suggests she’s better than all of you, she starts breaking up the fight.

“Off to class,” Miss Brown shoo’s them.

“Let’s go, Roxie,” Indie grits her teeth.

Roxie eyes you one more time. “Fine. I’ll be seeing you later.”

You gulp.

It’s time to play a new game around school: Hide from Roxie! Winners get the very rewarding prize of not getting their face beat in.

You dart from class to class all morning. A huge target sticks to your back with Roxie aiming for a bullseye. Meanwhile, Eddie is still no where to be found. He’s probably hiding under his sheets at home, full of shame when he mistook your name for hers.

That’s just fine by you. You still didn’t want to see him either. Or, maybe you did. First, to clear the air about you liking him. A little flimsy crush isn’t going to break a friendship, right? You’ll get over it in time. Secondly, you’re sure that him naming you is a big misunderstanding. He just got distracted or something.

After lunch was over, you planned to sneak through Mr Campbell’s empty classroom. He doesn’t have afternoon classes, and you can easily shoot through since there is a door on either side of the hallway.

“Over there!”

Roxie has the cheerleaders involved now. No doubt they want a piece of judge, jury and conviction too.

Colliding into something solid, you topple over onto the tile. You’re swept away in thought and you forget to watch where your going. Mr. Campbell has that skeleton on wheels that he’ll leave just about anywhere. But, you haven’t knocked over that stupid skeleton.

It’s Eddie.

“Oh, God,” you rub your backside.

Eddie gasps, “What are you doing?”

“What am I-,” you snap. “What the hell are you doing? Your girlfriend almost tackled me like linebacker!”

Eddie shushes you. “Do you want her to hear? She’s not my girlfriend. I told you it’s casual.”

“Casual?” You want to yell, but you also don’t want her to hear. The last thing you need is for Roxie to see you in the same room as Eddie. “Whatever you have is not casual.”

“I messed up, okay?” He rubs his temple. “Jesus!”

Your chin lifts at the familiar brrring of the school bell. Now, you’re skipping class. You’ll get another hour of detention no matter if you stay here or go to class.

“You’re hiding from her too?” You conclude.

Detention doesn’t matter to Eddie. He just wants to ensure you’re okay. Judging by the way you’re creeping through empty classrooms, you’re doing just about as good as he is.

"I'm not hiding," he jumps when someone's locker slams. "Okay, so maybe I am hiding."

"This is so humiliating," you cry.

Eddie apologizes, “I’m sorry-,”

“You’re sorry?”

You’re grateful that the light in the room is limited. Otherwise, you don’t know if you could have a conversation with him right now. Eddie has these eyes that you could simply drown in.

“It was an accident,” he claims. “You’re the one who said-,”

“I didn’t say anything,” you correct him. “You’re the one with the wild imagination.”

“Wild imagination?!”

“Maybe I do like Jeff, hm? Or- or maybe I’ve come to realize that Gareth is a great guy. Did you think of that?” You stand before him, while he scrunches down into a chair. “Eddie Munson you’re selfish - no, you’re self centered. All about Eddie- it’s Eddie’s world and we’re all just there like puppets on strings.”

“You done?”

“No!” You snap. “Yes.”

“How could you call me self-centered when you’ve been prancing around this place like the rest of the guys don’t exist? Everyone wants to know where you are all the time. Why would I know? Oh, because you’re supposed to be my best friend,” Eddie rubs his hands across his face. “God, when did things get so complicated?”

"When you started calling me one of the guys in middle school, and I just wanted whatever you wanted,” you admit out loud. “Why do you think I changed when Gareth mentioned Roxie? I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Eddie’s unreadable. Although dark, you can see his thoughts bubble and burst.

“It doesn’t matter,” you continue. “You don’t like me like that.”

“Who’s to say that?” Eddie’s voice comes out barely audible.

You shake your head. “Don’t pity me.”

Eddie kicks the stool from under him, “I’m not.”

“Eddie,” you pick at your nails. “What we have is a great friendship. I’m lucky that you’re in my life. I don’t want to risk messing that up. Are- are you okay with that? Are we okay?”

Eddie doesn’t want to leave the air so broken. While the words are spelled out in front of him, he can’t find a way to bring them out.

“We’re okay,” he says.

-> <-

Flicking a green bean on his plate with a fork, Eddie can’t be bothered to bring the food to his lips. Nothing passes his mouth. He watches the ice crystals on his steak defrost because he doesn’t want Uncle Wayne to worry that he’s messed up dinner, since this is the first one they’ve shared in a while. Wayne told his boss that he wanted to be home tonight for Eddie, and here he is.

“You’re not eating?” His uncle points out because Wayne has eaten half of his meal, and he worries that Eddie is appearing a bit gray and slender.

Eddie replies. “I ate a lot at school.”

“In the years that you’ve been under my roof, you haven’t stopped eating,” Wayne lowers his head to meet his nephew’s eye. “Try again.”

Eddie pushes the microwaved dinner aside. A low hum comes from the television, and he’s not even sure what’s on. Someone’s bobbing around like a baboon trying to make a woman smile. Yet another attempt from Wayne to make Eddie relive his childhood, he guesses.

“That girl your seeing isn’t pregnant is she?” Wayne presses when Eddie won’t talk. “Eddie Munson, I’ve told you to use a condom-,”

“No,” he cocks his head to rethink. “No, she’s not.”

Even if Roxie was pregnant, she’d get an abortion and make Eddie pay for it. Actually, he still owes her for the condoms.

Eddie wants to be done with women for a while. But, there is still this pinching on his ears that reminds him you’re still there. He’s actually wearing a pair of your studs that you forgot at his house one day. Since Eddie is prone to losing just about everything, he’s decided to wear them so they don’t get lost. No one even notices except for him. They hide behind his hair.

“Look,” Eddie wets his lips. “If I tell you, then you have to promise me you won’t do that weird ‘oooh’ thing you do. Got it?”

Wayne claps his hands together. Say no more. He’s solved the case! That little lady across the park has had her eye on him since the day Eddie moved in. Wayne really likes her. ‘Thinks she’s a great ball of sunshine that can keep Eddie under control. He’s been just waiting for Eddie to wake up and smell the coffee!

“Really?” Wayne excites.

Eddie exhales. “Don’t-,”

“Wait,” he lectures. “You’re not seeing both of them are you? Eddie Munson that is wrong, and I won’t tolerate that behavior. I taught you better.”

“No-,”

“Seriously, boy. Wear a condom. It’s not just for you, but her too you know?”

“Wayne-,”

“You can’t be spreading your butter on everyone’s toast.”

“Wayne!”

“I knew it,” he blabs on. “Ever since I caught you two brushing each other’s teeth. Oh, I saw this coming - I did!”

That incident happened once, and Wayne would never let Eddie live that down.

You smoke one joint.

After sitting in his room complaining of boredom, you tell Eddie you had never brushed someone else’s teeth before. He hadn’t either. You wanted to try. But, Eddie would only let you if the offer went both ways. Wayne burst in when you were scrubbing his tongue. You splattered toothpaste all over the mirror, while Eddie tried to keep you from squirming so he could scrub your teeth.

“You need to learn how to knock,” Eddie tries sailing with the conversation his old man is going on about.

Wayne challenges. “You know there’s no closed doors when you have girls over, Eddie.”

“Oh, my God.”

Reliving the memory, Eddie wants to make more with you. Cooking. You’ll cook. He’ll burn food. You’ll tell him he’s doing a wonderful job anyway because you’re too sweet to tell him to get out before he burns the house down. Eddie visions that you’ll teach him a better way to organize his clothes. You’ve already tried to show him how to fold, but Eddie only lasted a week doing your method before going back to shoving the clothes in whatever drawer is the least bit full. He’ll now admit that he only let you teach him because he wanted you close. He wants you close. Always.

It’s not just domestic stuff he sees. He wants to take you on a date. Many dates. He wants to take you out of Hawkins, even if it’s for just a day. He misses your laugh. Seeing you cry today broke him. Knowing that you’ve changed everything for him, and he didn’t notice. Because at the core of all the makeup and the hair, he guesses, that he just didn’t care. He loves all the extra, don’t get him wrong, but all he can see is you.

“What are you going to do, boy?” Wayne wonders.

Eddie replies in a question, “What if everything goes wrong? I- I can’t lose her, Wayne.”

“Son-,”

“What if I just turn out like him? Like my father?”

Eddie’s lip quivers, as he bites back the tears he’s been holding onto for years. Not a day goes by does he not miss his father, even if the years weren’t kind to him. His father is locked away somewhere in State, but he hasn’t visited. They’ll take one look at Eddie and they’ll try to lock him away too.

“That’s not you, Eddie,” Wayne opens his arms. “Come here.”

Eddie drops his head onto his uncle’s shoulder. Tears slide down his cheek and across his chin.

“Deep breaths,” he rubs his hand across Eddie’s back.

He doesn’t cry for long, and Wayne wipes his tears when he’s calmer. This isn’t a usual interaction between them, but neither of them care. Wayne takes away a stray eyelash from Eddie’s cheek.

“You like this girl?” Wayne says as a fact more than a question.

Eddie nods.

“You have to try,” he insists.

“Yeah, okay,” his nephew agrees.

Wayne and Eddie end their conversation there. Eddie eventually eats (after microwaving the food because he could have broken teeth on that steak), and the show that his uncle makes him watch isn’t half bad. Their night comes to a close when his uncle snores.

Mouth agape, head tipped over and his feet propped up, Wayne would be out for the night.

Eddie tucks his uncle’s toes beneath the blanket Wayne was hugging. Tip toeing his way into the kitchen, he puts both forks into the sink along with their drinking glasses. The TV dinners find home in the trash can. While Eddie left the television on to lull his uncle in his sleep, Eddie flicks off the living room and the kitchen lights. He sneaks off to his bedroom, the only bedroom in the trailer. Wayne gave up the space for Eddie to grow into.

Eddie finds that sleep won’t do.

You project onto his ceiling like a film about his life. There you are. Every new milestone. Eddie didn’t think about just how many times you were there for him. His birthdays come to mind, even the ones he didn’t want to be there for because he doesn’t always feel like he deserves to be celebrated. You’d sneak off to get him a beer when his uncle was distracted with all the other kids invited.

When you kept him from going outside, while Wayne drove up in his brand new van that was a gift for Eddie when he got his license. Wayne took on extra hours just for him. That might just have been the night his heart beat a little faster for you. Watching you perform songs in your living room in that ridiculous feather boa and sunglasses, Eddie’s drawn to laugh at the memory of you out of tune and off key. You didn’t care. The hair brush you swore was a microphone was just not working that night. You’re much better performer in the shower, you’d said.

Eddie sits up in bed, and he can see that your bedroom light is still on. Your curtains are drawn, but your silhouette dances about. Bouncing up and down will sometimes get rid of your last bit of energy, Eddie’s witnessed your routine first hand. Your wild, and Eddie finds this fascinating.

When your silhouette disappears, but the light remains, Eddie concludes that you’re reading a chapter book. You told Eddie to try reading sometime because that’s what helped you get to sleep. He bought his first book that very same day.

The Lord of the Rings was your suggestion. Not that he hadn’t found it first, but he wasn’t about to point it out. Eddie sees the book hidden under a lighter he used last night.

Smoking seemed obvious to him. He couldn’t sleep, so he would light up. With Wayne home, though, Eddie didn’t want the smell getting to him. He’s pretty sure Wayne knows he smokes by now, and he doesn’t care. Eddie isn’t a reckless smoker by any means, and he keeps to himself. If Wayne found out he was selling, that would be a different story.

Never the less, Eddie reads page after page of the same book he’s been fascinated by for weeks. He immerses himself into the books wishing he could be the hero, rather than the one who runs in the face of danger.

Eddie hears your front door open and close. This interests him and tips his head up. Tossing the book aside like he’s suddenly been hypnotized, he looks through his window.

You’re on the porch in thin pajamas and a robe. A lit cigarette slots between your fingers. You only smoke when you’re stressed. Pacing back and forth, Eddie understands that you’re talking to yourself. He just can’t make out the words.

This is creepy. Eddie shuts his window, and sinks back in bed. Leaving you alone - leaving you alone.

The words in his book blur into blobs of unrecognizable text. All he can see right now is you on that porch. You’re alone - and you’re probably cold. He has a blanket that he could offer. Maybe he could- no, he is leaving you alone.

Eddie wants to untangle the knot he has in his belly. He even tries to convince himself that he’s still hungry. But, he knows he won’t eat. You’re there. Even if you were caked in mud, you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world to him. Actually, he has seen you caked in mud before. You were definitely hot then too.

Oh, God. What was he doing?

Pulling open his closet now, Eddie finds a jacket to slip on over his pajamas. He takes an extra blanket with him. It’s a bit torn up, but the blanket is clean. Wayne washed the blanket a couple of days ago, along with Eddie’s sheets which he claimed he could smell from across town. Eddie was not that dirty. It was the weed - but, er - don’t ask about the stains. He doesn’t know what they are or where they came from. Seriously, don’t ask.

Wayne is still snoring in the living room. He mutters in his sleep when Eddie opens the front door, and he doesn’t see Wayne stir once the door shuts.

His uncle stretches, and wakes up enough to take a leak in his bathroom. By the time he returns to the living room, he catches a glimpse from the window in the living room. His boy is with you on your porch making you smile and making you blush.

Wayne doesn’t need to spy. He’s seen this movie before when his brother made moves on his girl. It’d be a few more years until Eddie is born, but the picture is already there.

“Atta boy,” Wayne cheers to himself.

Eddie’s sitting with you, and sharing a cigarette. You’re not sleeping either. Dried black makeup you haven’t smudged off is stuck under your eyes. He wants to swipe it away, but he doesn’t know if he should.

“Is your mom in tonight?” Eddie asks.

You shake your head. “No, but my dad is such a deep sleeper. He’s nothing to worry about.”

Eddie worries about your dad catching him there with his only daughter, then your mom who likes to call you both “crazy kids.” Your dad is stern. Overprotective. He’s jokes about having a gun locked away somewhere, but Eddie still has no idea if he is joking. You won’t tell him because truthfully you don’t know.

“What’s got you up?” Eddie brings the blanket closer to you because he sees your shoulders dance.

You shake your head blowing out smoke to the left where Eddie isn’t.

Eddie takes a drag from the cigarette after he says, “I don’t think I’ve been all that honest with you.”

He reads your face.

“Not like that,” he can’t look at you, so he counts the floorboards of your porch. “I said we’re okay, but I don’t think we are.”

Your heart skips in your chest. “What do you mean?”

While Eddie might not be able to look at you, your eyes are all on him. In the moonlight, he’s like this shiny thing. You can’t put your thoughts into words, but he’s carved by the shine of the moon. He might hide his face with his hair, but when he hunches over you relax a bit.

You haven’t been able to put yourself in bed. Knowing that Eddie was there had wrecked your mind. You’re itching to be near him.

The whole day you thought about nothing, but him. How unsatisfied you are with your earlier conversation. You thought being the one to take charge in the conversation, and assert yourself, might make the blow easier. Truthfully, it hurt even worse.

You spent the evening sobbing in your room like a baby. Friends. You signed your name at the bottom of that contract. But, then, you thought about the day you’ll find a nice boy that will like you back. You’ll get married. You’ll get a house. Everything will be okay. But, as you thought about your life, your mind wondered about Eddie. What happens when he finds a girl? He’ll have a wife and he’ll have a house too.

You’ll be at that wedding. Sitting in a chair that’s not too close to the front, but also not all the way in the back. The band sits in front of you. They might not be able to pronounce the brand name, but their check cashes on their suits. All of your friends are his friends.

Eddie’s fiancé is faceless, but her gown is breathtaking. They’ll say ‘I do.’

You’ll cry along with them, but the tears you shed are ones you let out at a funeral. Are you just supposed to sit there and pretend like you don’t want to throw up?

Because that’s not you standing at the alter.

That’s some chick he’s met on the road while he tours with the band. Sure she’s great. But, the sight sickens you. Maybe that means your selfish, but you can’t do this. You can’t see Eddie with another woman. You refuse to see it because Eddie’s always been with you.

“I’m sorry?” You’ve spaced out while Eddie is speaking.

He begins to say, “please don’t make me repeat myself.”

Throwing the cigarette to the ground, you stamp out the flame. You wrap your hands around his neck, and you pull him forward. Eddie's lips meet yours in an awaited embrace. Longing and passionate. His hands burrow into your hair pulling you ever closer. The tender touch of his fingers fall to your waist to tell you he's not going anywhere.

You can't be sure which one of you pull away first. But, when your eyes open you breathe a sigh of relief. Eddie is still there, and he's about as hot in the face as you feel. You let out a breathy laugh, and he hides his grin behind his hair.

It doesn't take long for him to ask,

"Can I take you out sometime?"

And, of course, you say. "Yes!"

-> <-

tags: @hellfirenacht @queercodedcharacter @ogoc-19 @littlewinchester1 @stardustingold @ghost4love @spenciesprincess @animechick555 @foggyfooz @aactuaaltraash @loves0phelia @sofaritsalrightt @thisisktrying @somethingvicked @sebastiansstanswhore

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson preference #eddie munson imagine #angst #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things preference #stranger things fic

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tropes-and-tales · 3 months

Text

Not Real Just Yet

Day 14: Breeding Kink (Bob Floyd x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!)

CW: Breeding kink; the appearance of dub-con but with clear consent discussed; smut (PiV, unprotected); 18+ only. Again, this is a breeding KINK with an element of dub-con (but consensual), so if that isn't your thing, pass on this one.

Word Count: 1513

AN: This was requested by an anonymous person! It was also not edited in any way!

It’s not real.

It’s not real just yet because Bob is active duty, often deployed for long stretches.

It’s not real just yet because you’re in a PhD program that requires long, long hours: as you TA for undergrad classes, as you pore over old archived papers buried in colleges across the U.S., as you spend late nights on your thesis.

It’s not real just yet because you and Bob are sometimes just ships passing in the night, and you both hate it, but you’re both committed to each other and see this current pain as paying off in the near future.

It’s not real just yet because Bob, modern though he is, has old-fashioned ideas. He wants to put a ring on your finger first, wants to carry you over the threshold of a shared home, wants to settle into a nice stretch of married life as a couple before adding to your family.

It’s not real just yet. It’s just a fun way of playing around in the bedroom, and it’s more about the power dynamics of the breeding kink. You have an implant, so the risk is minimal, but it’s still fun to pretend.

Bob, the back seater who often feels powerless: he gets to take the dominant role.

You, the harried student who often feels like there’s too much piled on your shoulders: you get to take the submissive role.

-----

It’s not real just yet, but it sure as hell feels real. Bob is finally home from a tour around the South Pacific, and you’ve finally turned in pages to your thesis advisor. You each have the luxury of time, for once, and you turn your respective life frustrations on each other in the best possible way.

It’s easy to forget it’s not real when Bob slides inside you, the wet silky heat of your pussy and not a single barrier to stop him from feeling every sensation. The delicious slickness of your arousal, the molten warmth, the way you bear down when he’s buried in you and whispers in your ear. He whispers the filthiest things he’s ever said in bed with anyone, and sometimes he’s embarrassed in the morning when he remembers it, but the embarrassment never lingers—because he loves you, because he feels safe to explore this side of himself with you.

I’m gonna breed you, sweetheart.

Just take it. Good girl, take it.

Gonna look so good, full of my baby.

Gonna make you a mommy.

Take all of it.

Taking me so good. Can’t wait to see your belly all round with our baby.

Just lie back and take it like a good girl.

He fucks you slowly, deep, purposeful thrusts that he punctuates with his dirty talk. He knows it’s not real, but it’s so easy to fall into the fantasy, especially when you whimper at his words, when you cling to his shoulders and whine out your answering script.

Wait, Bobby…wait…

Maybe we shouldn’t…

It’s all a game, of course. It toes the line of dubious consent but Bob knows it’s all consensual because you never utter the safe word and neither does he. And sometimes he thinks maybe it’s sick, maybe it’s twisted, and maybe no one else would understand it, but when he voices those concerns to you, you always allay them. You always cup his face and tell him that what the two of you do in the privacy of your bedroom is your business and no one else’s.

“Besides,” you told him once. “You have no idea what your pals in Top Gun are into when it comes to kinks. I bet Bagman is a foot fetish weirdo.”

So he pushes those doubts aside because fuck if it isn’t the hottest thing he’s done, exploring all the weird and surprising twists within his own sexuality and yours.

Your first orgasm is always the strongest—maybe because you pretend to fight it, pretend you don’t want this. Bob notices all of your little tells: the way your fingertips dig into the blades of his shoulders until he knows he’ll have dusty little bruises there in the morning. The way your arousal absolutely soaks his pistoning cock, soaks the thatch of rough curls at the base of him. The way you whine out no, please, as if your body is betraying you, and isn’t that part of the fantasy too: that he fucks you so well that you can’t fight off the orgasm he works from you?

“Good girl,” he whispers against your temple. “Good girl, coming for me.” He slows his thrusting, savors the spasms of your aftershocks, allows you to recover.

“Please Bobby,” you breathe out. “It’s too risky—”

He closes his eyes and kisses your temple, feels the sweat making your hair damp. “You think too much,” he murmurs. He shifts his head, nips at your earlobe before he whispers in your ear, “just take it like a good girl.”

“Bobby��”

“You’re going to look so fucking hot, swollen with my baby.” He says that staring into your eyes, which are wide in mock-fear, part of the game, but he can see how wide your pupils are too, your eyes damned near black, and it’s a reassuring reminder that yes, you are into this game too, you’re enjoying it as much as him. And sure enough, there’s the answering clench in your pussy, the way you unconsciously bear down on him as he starts to resume his slow, firm rhythm of fucking you.

And now that you’ve come once, he takes it up a notch, ratchets the moment higher. He gets an arm under your knee and hoists your leg up and out, spreads you out more for him to bury himself in you. It grants him that extra bit of depth into your pussy, and each time he hilts his cock in you, it draws out a low groan from you, a throaty growl that makes the coil of tension in his gut tighten.

Here is usually where the game falters just a bit. Bob’s never had this with any other girlfriend before; sex was always a fraught, anxious thing for him. He always worried about his performance in bed. Most of his girlfriends before you usually laid in bed like a starfish, limp and unresponsive, and it took Bob a long time to realize that it was them, not him, that was the problem.

But sex with you is always good. Sometimes fun and playful, sometimes intimate and soulful. Sometimes, like now, it’s both of you working through your own personal demons—him and his feelings of inadequacy, you and your feelings of overwhelm—but doing it together. Exploring shadowy sides of yourselves in a perfectly safe, perfectly loving way.

How could he not want to put that ring on your finger, carry you over that threshold? Bob could travel the world for the rest of his life and never find anyone half as suited to him as you.

And now, your second orgasm approaches. Now your hands shift from clutching at his shoulders. Your palms lay flat on his chest and you push lightly against him, the climax of your game timed to the climax you’ll share with him.

“Bobby, please,” you pant out. “It’s not s-safe. Pull…pull out—”

But he doesn’t because it’s part of the game, and a beat later, when you arch underneath him, when your eyes flutter shut and you wail out his name, he pushes into you and stills. He feels his own tension snap, and he comes with a pained fuck, baby, take it, and it’s absolutely perfect: the way your pussy ripples against his cock, how it pulls the thick ropes of his cum deeper into the confines of your body.

Here is where the game falls apart. Or, rather, it ends. Sex is a release for both of you, but since you are generally more stressed and wound-up than Bob, you have the habit of giggling directly afterwards. Which might make a lesser man wither, but the tic charms Bob, and now he chuckles along with you.

“Oof,” you breathe out once the laughing passes. You wrap an arm around his neck and pull him down to you. “That was great.”

Bob is still half hard, so he shifts his weight carefully to avoid slipping out of you. He leans his weight on one forearm and gazes down at you with a smile. He brushes gentle kisses across your warm face. “I missed you.”

You smile up at him. “I missed you too. I’m glad you’re home.”

Home. Right now, it’s just a crummy little apartment near campus, but as Bob settles closer to you, he can already picture the future with you: a better apartment or maybe even a house somewhere. You with your PhD, him with his military career. Each of you with rings on your fingers, vows made and received, maybe a dog adopted from a shelter.

And maybe, after that, you can play at your mutual kink for real.

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #top gun maverick #kinktober 2023 #tropes and tales

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chaoticbardlady99 · 3 months

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I Wondered If I Could Come Home (Astarion x F! pregnant reader) (Part 3)

Synopsis: A hag has set her eyes on you and Eowyn- Astarion is determined to kill the damn thing.

CW: Mentions of child loss

Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are much appreciated!!!!

Picture does not belong to me! Please reach out to me if it is yours!

P.s. lightly edited

Month 8 has been blissful and going into your last month- you actually feel stronger than you have the entire time.

You sit on a bench, reading another book about babies (you save the Dhampir books for locations with less eyes), as Astarion throws a ball with Scratch and Wide Eyes (Karlach thought her name for the Owlbear was clever) in the local park. Astarion had been fed up with their zoomie shenanigans since they began earlier this morning. You wanted to go outside anyway- so it was perfect!

Eowyn kicks every so often to let you know that she is still there and doesn’t intend on leaving anytime soon, but overall, it’s been a really easy day. It’s fun to be able to watch Astarion enjoy such mundane life activities and it makes you realize how many simple things in your life that you have taken for granted.

You smile to yourself as you continue to read your book and you finally feel hungry enough to begin munching on the pastry Astarion bought you.

It was an apple cupcake and it was surprisingly very very yummy.

“My, my,” a scratchy voice says, “aren’t you a pretty little bred thing.”

You feel the hairs on your neck stand up and you turn very slowly to look at the elderly woman who stares at you with a look of hunger in her eyes. Oh- it’s the woman Astarion bought the cupcake from. She looked… friendlier earlier?

You don’t know why you feel like you are in danger all of a sudden, but your arms go over your stomach protectively- one of them ready to fire a cantrip if needed. The energy around her feels familiar, but different- you’ve been in the presence of this type of magic before, but you can’t remember when.

“You are that pretty girl that lives in the house with the dark curtains,” she steps closer, “you come and buy those herbs with your little Cleric friend!”

Oh- maybe that’s why I recognize her more? I’ve seen her more than I’ve realized?

“You know, Droplet, I could take that little one off your hands.”

Your whole body freezes at the statement and her already wicked smile becomes even more menacing and even intimidating.

“You do look close to death as is- you don’t really want to birth a child you won’t survive having do you? Especially not a bloodthirsty Dhampir!”

You feel your heart racing, a deep sadness and fear is coursing through you.

Eowyn, my sweet girl, you are not going anywhere.

That relieves some of the uncomfortable emotions stirring within you, but this woman has you in a trance. You can’t look away from her and you don’t feel like you can move.

“I- I don’t know you,” you say shakily, “I- you need to walk away, please. I’m not interested and I don’t know what you are talking about.”

You don’t even sound convincing to yourself. You begin to feel really sleepy all of a sudden and your eyes are becoming harder to keep open. Something is wrong and as much as you want to call out to Astarion- your mouth feels heavy.

“Oh, Droplet,” the woman tuts, “it will be okay- you’ll wake up and it will all be bet-“

“What in the hells do you think you are doing?”

Whatever spell the woman had tried to put you under broke when she jumped at Astarion’s voice. You look over at the father of your child and you almost begin to sob. You have never been more grateful for how menacing Astarion can look when he wants to.

“Oh, hello!” she recovers her composure, “I know this young, adorably pregnant girl from the market. I was just offering to… adopt.”

“Oh yes,” Astarion snarls, “because Hags are known for their kind hearted souls and their selfless adoption of children.”

You feel sick to your stomach. Scratch is up on the bench and standing between you and the Hag- his hackles are raised and a long, low growl is released from his throat while Wide Eyes stands right next to you as close as he can get.

The Hag looks at you, then Astarion, then Scratch, and lastly, Wide Eyes before she returns her gaze back to yours. She gives you one last wide grin.

“I will see you later, Droplet. You should know that I always get what I want.”

You turn to Astarion who is pushing past the Owlbear- your face is in between his hands in an instant and he’s frantically searching over you- looking for signs of maltreatment..

Astarion pulls out an antidote from his pocket and makes you drink it- just in case the woman had intentionally poisoned the cupcake. It didn’t make the intense sleepiness you feel go away, but at least you know you aren’t dying.

It doesn’t matter to him though- Astarion is quick to pull you up and support you while you walk home. You can tell Astarion wants to just pick you up and run back home to Shadowheart, but you both know how crazy that might look considering normal men who have Astarion’s physique can’t carry pregnant women.

The park is only a block away, but it felt like it took hours. The world is hazy and you shift in and out of focus as Shadowheart begins to check on you.

“Wh-when did Shaodowww smart get here?”

“Will you please figure out what’s wrong already, CLERIC!?”

Astarion yells and your jumbled brain jumps- tears come falling out of your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” you sob, “I- I didn’t- I shouldn’t-“

“Shhhhhhhh, my Darling,” Astarion is sitting next to you in an instant as you begin to tilt over, “it’s okay- this is not your fault.”

“You….. sur…..”

Your question dies on your lips as you give into the exhaustion and fall asleep with your head on Astarion’s shoulder.

***********************

Astarion’s chest loosens when Jaheira, Minsc, Gale, and Halsin arrive. At least now he can go and kill the hag without worrying about dying in the process. He almost left after you had fallen asleep- the muffin he had bought you had in fact been laced with a sleeping potion. Astarion felt like a complete idiot, but Gale reassured him that he couldn’t have possibly known.

You are laying peacefully asleep in your bed and Astarion finds himself putting his hand against your belly to make sure Eowyn is okay- her kicks give him instant relief from the anxiety he is feeling.

He almost lost both of you and that thought is still enough to make Astarion homicidal. He will not let another evil individual take his life, his happiness- his home- ever again.

“S-star?”

Your eyes are staring at him lazily as you try to blink away the sleepiness. Astarion gently grasps your hand and brushes the stray hairs out of your face.

“I’m right here, my Love,” Astarion whispers, “I’m not going to let anything happen to either of you. I promise.”

You whimper and sniffle at Astarion’s words- your bottom lip trembling. Astarion climbs into the bed behind you and holds you to him- you burst into tears.

“I al-almost lost-“ you say through sobs, “Eow-“

“Shhhh Darling, it’s okay. She’s okay,” he soothes, “I’m going with the others to kill the Hag. Jaheira and Shadowheart are going to stay here with you- okay?”

“Don’t go,” you turn awkwardly to look at him, your face is grief stricken, “I don’t want to lose you- please don’t go.”

“Darling…”

“Please.”

Right as Astarion responds- Gale is knocking on the door.

“Would it be alright if I came in?”

“Yes,” you both say in unison.

Gale smiles at Astarion sadly after he looks at you. Astarion didn’t think about the fact that it was hard for your friends to see you in this emotional state until he moved in. Shadowheart cries after leaving the room when you’ve had a particularly scary vomiting episode or false contraction. She is terrified for you and it made him realize he had been wrong about her as well. Shadowheart is a selfless person for the right people.

“Minsc and Halsin are about ready to go, Astarion,” Gale looks between the two of you- noticing how the comment created some tension, “Tav- he will come back alive. We all will. We fought Auntie Ethel as a group of total strangers with no battle experience together and won. This will be a breeze, my Friend.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so.”

You take a deep, inhale in and with one last sniff you agree to not put up a fight about Astarion going. Astarion can’t believe that you would trust Gale’s opinion on the matter more, but he does understand the sentiment. It’s how he feels about Jaheira and Shadowheart staying behind.

He leaves a chaste kiss on your forehead and whispers promises of seeing you soon- promises he intends on keeping.

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 spoilers #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion x you #bg3 #karlach #astarion x f!reader #astarion baldurs gate #astarion x f! reader #astarion ancunin

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winterrrnight · 3 days

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there’d better be a mirrorball

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: you couldn’t attend senior prom, so your boyfriend bought the prom to you.

WARNINGS: mentions of puking and food poisoning, sweetheart rafe, usage of nicknames, intentional use of lower case

EDITH SPEAKS: huge huge thank you to miss @zyafics who had to see my poorly edited photo of a terrace and helped me figure out that it’s called a ‘gazebo’, except that picture didn’t actually have a gazebo in it (I’m sorry I’m so bad at explaining shit 😭) but yeah zya you’re a real one ilysm 💙🌟

if you liked reading this please consider reblogging! feedback is always appreciated 🪩

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it was the saddest day of your life.

you went to sleep all excited, your dress laid out, your shoes right next to the dress, your jewelry picked out, a clear image of your make up look in your head; just for you to wake up and do the last thing you’d expect for that day: puke.

your puke was unceremoniously cleaned up by your mom, who when touched her hand to your forehead, claimed that you were burning up. when you tried to speak, your voice barely came out – it was hoarse and heavy. and it was even worse when you couldn’t stand on your own two feet for a few moments before starting to feel an intense body ache that had you flopping back onto your bed.

“I’m sorry darling, but I don’t think you should go to prom today–”

“no!” came out your rough voice, tears starting to blur your vision as you took a look at your perfectly arranged dress and accessories for the coming night. your mom couldn’t bear to see the sight but she had to exercise her never expiring mom card and made you miss the prom.

you were laying in your bed, your curtains drawn and the lights turned off to not let any harsh lighting pulsate your already throbbing headache even more than before. you had called your boyfriend rafe and had given him the unbearing news of you not being able to attend prom because of your horrible health – which was concluded as food poisoning by your mother – and he felt his heart shatter with the news.

rafe, who was never interested in prom before, was looking forward to that night because you were his date. you made his decision regarding proms flip to a total 180 and convinced him on how fun it would actually be, and now what? now, you can’t go, you: the light to the dark side of his moon.

“then that’s simple, I’m not going either,” came his voice through your microphone. you groaned for what felt like the millionth time, and shook your head.

“you are going rafe,” you said, your voice clearing up just a bit thanks to those sharp tasting lozenges your mother dumped into your mouth. “okay? you are going. the rest of our friends are going to be there, and it’s the senior prom! you are going, and that’s final.”

damn. even when you’re lying sick in your bed, you still have your control over him.

rafe reluctantly agreed to go to the prom, but before he went there, he stopped by at your place to check up on you. he brought you some fresh flowers and put them in a vase to sit in your room.

“when I come back, I’m coming straight to you, okay?” he murmured softly as he pressed a kiss to your forehead gently, not listening to your whines on how he shouldn’t kiss you because you were sick.

the hours passed, and you made a quick scroll through your social media – something which you knew you shouldn’t. there were already a gazillion pictures and short videos from the evening, everyone dressed up in fancy fabrics from head to toe, jewelry gleaming on their ears and necks, and familiar pop music played in the background. you sighed, feeling yourself getting more and more sad and left out as you practically threw your phone aside, and decided to just nap to get your mind off of it.

you were woken up by your name spoken by an all too familiar melodious voice, and a soft nudge to your shoulder.

“wake up baby…” you heard in your ear. you opened your eyes and were met with rafe’s bright blue ones. his blazer had come off and was hanging on his shoulder, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows.

“yeah?” you muttered as you rubbed your eyes and sat up.

“come on, I want to take you somewhere,” he said in a hushed tone as he watched you awaken.

“take me where?” you asked and without any questions, you followed rafe’s lead, who helped you to your feet and helped you put on your shoes. he draped his blazer over your shoulders and took your hand, leading you out of your room.

“just come with me, you’ll love it,” he said softly, grinning from ear to ear as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and led you out. you lived only a few doors down from tannyhill, and rafe kept you well tucked under his arm as he kept up with your slower pace of walking than usual and led you to his place.

he led you inside the huge mansion, and when he saw how tired your body had gotten from the walking, he carefully picked you up bridal style and carried you up the stairs, all the way up to the terrace.

“now…” he hummed as he set you down, both of you standing right outside the closed door of the terrace. “i’m going to cover your eyes, okay?” he said softly, and when he saw you didn’t interject, he covered your eyes with his fingers. he opened the door and carefully led you out to the terrace.

“i’ll lift my hands in 3… 2… 1…”

at 1, his hands came off and you were greeted with a sight that made you gasp.

multiple strings of golden fairy lights hung all around the terrace, a record player spun in a corner, a table was covered with drinks, chocolates and other little treats, and to your right, right under the wooden gazebo, was a mirrorball.

a mirrorball hung right from the center of the gazebo, spinning slowly and slowly as it reflected silver light in different directions, producing a complex display. you gasped at the sight, the spherical object rotating and momentarily reflecting across you, the reflections mere spheres that appeared and disappeared on your body at different parts each time.

“rafe…” you muttered, and you felt his arms wrap around your waist from the back, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“this is our prom baby,” you whispered in your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck.

“when… when did you even do this?” you whispered, still in awe from the entire decoration.

“I came back from prom early, it was extremely boring without you,” he murmured. “couldn’t stand being there without my pretty girl,”

you turned around in rafe’s hold to face him. “this… this is so beautiful…” you whispered, looking in his twinkling eyes. you wanted to say more, you really did, but you were falling short of words because you were still trying to recover from the surprise.

“not as beautiful as you baby,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to your forehead and you broke into a smile. he can be so cheesy.

“now come on, I believe you owe me a dance,” he grinned as he walked up to the record player. he changed the vinyl spinning and you watched him curiously, but all curiosity washed away when you heard the gentle instrumentals of there’d better be a mirrorball fill the space around you.

he walked back to you with a cheeky grin and took your hand in his, leading you to the gazebo where you both stood right under the mirrorball. he took your hands in his and brought you closer to him, placing your arms around his neck and placing his around your waist, and starting to sway you gently to the music.

you rested your head in the crook of his neck and he kept you close in your arms, both of your eyes fluttered shut as you gently swayed to the music, taking in the moment.

“I love you,” you heard the faint sound of rafe’s voice in your ear. you felt your heart thump at his words, a soft smile forming on your face.

“I love you just as much,” you whispered back, burying your face in his neck. he smiled softly at your words, pressing a kiss to your temple as he continued to sway you both.

by the end of the night, you had completely forgotten you had to miss prom.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @lunalitva @sadfury @sage-burrow @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @rafesgiirl @theoraekenslover @fals3-g0d @personalfavsthatarerandom @b1mb0slvt

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luckykiwiii101 · 4 months

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I’m turning off anons! Lmfao the audacity y’all have to bully me. Post it with ur actual account then. I’m literally just 15. I’m just trying to help people manifest their dream lives and you are just bullying me. Now how is that what i get in return for wanting to see people succeed?! Wow. I’m also still on my own journey to manifesting my dream life. I created my blog to spread what i’ve learnt. And i’ve learnt so much since i came to tumblr. I’ve entered the void state a few times but struggled to be aware. The times where i’ve entered and woken up in the void state aware is when i had no clue what it was! I made that clear ages ago!! Stop trying to accuse me of lying! Tf?! Why on earth would i lie? What would i gain from lying?! Tell me?! Just because of your disbelief in your ability does NOT give you the right to come on my blog and accuse me of lying! PATHETIC! Also if you’ve manifested your dream life i doubt that you would still be roaming tumblr reading posts about how to manifest your dream life. The idiocy. And to say that “It’s not bullying”. Bro yes it is. Tf. How about YOU go learn what bullying is. It wasn’t a one time thing, multiple people are ganging up on me now. But carry on. Low lives.

+ Calling me rude? Okay! Of course i’m not going to respect people who disrespect me. Tf? Want me to sugarcoat it and act like a princess? Want me to just let them disrespect me. “Oh sorry, i’ll do whatever you want. You’re right. I am a low life and an embarrassment and a liar”. AS IF! I’m none of those things and you know it. You’re just reflecting your assumptions about yourself onto me! LMFAO the irony. If you really hate me then go block me and stop reading my posts? It’s that simple? I’m not here to convince you that i’m telling the truth. You can choose to believe in me or not. It doesn’t change the fact that i have entered the void state. Want me to take a picture of my void state and send it to you? Tf? Loa is based on faith and you want proof? You don’t even have faith in yourselves. You need picture proof for everything don’t you?

+ I’m going to stop posting. Unless they are success stories. I’m not giving you guys any more advice. I’m sick and tired of the people on this app. I honestly never thought i would be one of those bloggers that would be bullied on this app. I’m turning off anons so i know that half of you won’t want to send your success stories and i’m fine with that. You can priv message me and if you want to be anonymous i’ll crop out your username and pfp.

Edit: NO WAY!!! I was just abt to turn off anons and decided to look at my inbox and someone accused me of faking the success stories?! WHAT?! I’m sorry what?! They said “it’s you down to the way you type”. WHAT?! That is the most ridiculous thing i’ve ever heard. It’s disheartening. I actually felt the pit in my stomach when i read that. People just assuming the worst about you feels horrible. But it just shows their lack of disbelief in themselves. I did not crate my blog to chase clout wtf?! Why would i spend 2+ hours perfecting my posts so you guys can read them. All that for clout?! I think NOT.

Look at these:

(The way they’re all anonymous says a lot).

+ The amount of bloggers you guys have done this to is CRAZY. Smh 🤦‍♀️

#void state #void #law of assumption #loa blog #loa tumblr #loassumption #loablr #manifestation #loa

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tearsonmarz · 3 months

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Scarian Flirting and Fishing pt. 2

(I know I said I wasn’t going to be adding onto the one-shot-- but that was before Grian’s latest episode came out, so here we are. Don’t hold your breath for another part. Also, I decided that it wasn’t going to be a modern setting, but I’m also too lazy to make either of these historically accurate. I wrote these for fun, they weren’t meant to be anything too thought out. Here's part one if you haven't read it yet. I was also too tired to edit it, but I need it out of my docs because it'll consume my thought otherwise.)

“So, why do you want this book so badly?” Scar was curious since he hadn’t seen Grian before. He had never imagined what would stem from a simple encounter with the sandy haired man.

He’d been following Grian for about a month now. They’d go to nearby streams, scrounge around for the book, spend hours getting excited only to be disappointed once again.

After the first two days, Scar bought a fishing rod to help out. But Grian had insisted that he wanted to be the one to find it, nevertheless Scar fished because it bothered Grian.

“I need it for something important that I’m working on. You know you can leave whenever you want.”

“Still trying to get rid of me, don’t you get tired of it?”

“Don’t you get tired of following me?” He shot Scar a look that only caused him to burst out laughing.

“You just aren’t going to give up.”

“I should be the one saying that.”

Why was he staying this long? There was no reason for him to continue bothering Grian. It’s simply something that had integrated into his daily routine. Every day without fail they would link up, take a walk down to the river and start fishing. They’d eat together, talk together, and enjoy each other’s company. It mainly consisted of Scar ranting to his hearts content, while Grian pretended not to listen. Every now again Grian would forget and chime into the conversation to Scar’s surprise.

Through it all they continued to hang around each other. The other’s presence because comforting and routine. Though Grian would never admit it, he was happy that Scar stuck around. Even if he wasn’t ecstatic about Scar in the beginning, each fishing trip felt a little more fulfilling even without a mending book. He hadn’t wanted to spend this month any other way.

“I don’t think this is the spot.” He dejectedly spoke as he reeled in another fish.

“Are you sure? It’s barely been an hour.”

“No, I’m not sure, but I’m just so sick of getting nothing every single day. It’s so infuriating.” A sigh left his lips as he tossed it onto the pile and put down his fishing rod.

“Why don’t we just take a break. Let’s head into town to eat for a change.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. Finish up while I start packing up our stuff.”

‘Our.’ Just that simple word stuck in Scar’s head, enough to distract him from the pulling on his line. Snapping out of it, he reeled in is line. Much to his dismay it was a book. He walked over to his pile, but before he could inspect it, Grian called out to him.

“Ready to get going yet?”

He hid the book in the pile of items he had acquired pretending to sift through it. “Yeah, just let me finish putting everything away and I’ll be good to go.”

“Oh… Alright, I’ll just wait for you then.” Without another word Grian started towards the fishery.

Scar brought the book back out. It had a royal purple coloured cover decorated with golden trim, and an ominous aura to it. Besides, he already knew it was what Grian was looking for. Just in case, he was going to allow it to dry. Once he had gathered himself, he made his way to where Grian was.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything as long as it’s delicious and filling.” Grian sulked as they strolled.

Scar just smiled, leading the way to the nearby tavern. They grabbed something quick to eat, not paying much mind to the time. Scar’s priority was to cheer Grian up after all. Well, that was before he had found what they had been searching for. It felt like it was looming over his head. He knew he had to tell Grian eventually.

“So, G. What are you going to do when you do find that book?” That question earned a coughing fit from Grian. “Oh, sorry I didn’t mean to startle you. Here-” He passed Grian his handkerchief, urging him to drink water as he tried to calm down.

“Why… Why do you ask?” Grian replied in between coughs. He cleared his throat, quietly thanking Scar and beckoning him to continue.

“Well, I just got to thinking. We’ve been fishing for a month, and it has to come to an end. I was just wondering what would happen to us when it does… End I mean.”

“Oh. I hadn’t really thought about what we would do. I guess, we’d probably go our separate ways.”

They sat there in silence for a moment. Wondering what the other was thinking. The thought of this coming to end was bittersweet and heartbreaking. Scar didn’t want it to end, but he’d be lying if the thought didn’t cross his mind. What was he to do after this? What was his life lie before hanging around Grian? That thought has only caused him more grief.

Scar never stayed in one place for very long. There was never anything keeping him tied to a single area. He was free to do as he pleased without a care in the world. For the first time, he had something to look forward to. Casual conversation, playful pranks, and a type of warmth he hadn’t experienced before. He liked the sense of security he began to associate with Grian. His home.

The thought of something changing, or Grian leaving him was devastating. And the fear began to set in. If he were to show Grian what he had found there was a large possibility that he’d leave him. He couldn’t take that chance. Maybe, if he held onto it for a little longer, he could find another reason for Grian to stay. Just maybe.

#hermitcraft #grian #goodtimeswithscar #scarian #hermitshipping #not edited #but I'll get around to editing it later #later night writing #the name of this two part series isn't the best so if you have a better name please let me know #the name is just what I labelled it in my doc lol

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katzkinder · 1 month

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Servamp headcanons, ice cream edition! Because my grandma got an ice cream maker and we’re all super eager to try it out but then she broke her back (she’s fine, don’t worry)

Mahiru: plain old vanilla. Misono introduced him to vanilla BEAN ice cream though and he’s feeling a little guilty about wanting to splurge a bit for the more expensive, creamier stuff… Kuro is an enabler and his encouragement is the only reason he’s still managing to resist. Just do it Mahi!

Kuro: Cookies and Cream is his favorite, but he’s also partial to cookie dough, or crumbled chocolate mint cookies as topping. He likes both the taste and the texture

Misono: chocolate lol. He’s predictable. His absolute favorite though are those ultra decadent brownie batter type of chocolate ice creams. Yknow the ones. Chocolate pieces, brownie bits, hot fudge swirl… He gets sick off the stuff easily though, so even though he loves it, self control is everything

Lily: vanilla bean with strawberry topping and cheese cake bites! He loves fresh strawberries in his desserts, and often he and Misono will trade bites if they’re getting flavor fatigue. Also very rich but the strawberry helps cuts through the sweetness

Tetsu: a Basic Boi who loves GariGariKun the most. Prefers popsicles over dairy treats. Yeah technically this isn’t ice cream but like. It’s the taste of summer and after bath refreshments. I’m not taking that from him

Hugh: vanilla with hot fudge sauce (and/or blood). He still prefers his chocolate parfaits, or better yet for this scenario, a milkshake

Licht: yknow those ultra sweet cotton candy flavors? If it’s ice cream by itself, he loves that. But if it’s a float, it’s gotta be vanilla in melon soda. If you take him to marble slab or similar place that lets you mix in a bunch of toppings, he will make a beeline for the gummy bears. Gets disappointed every time that they turn hard and unpleasant to eat, even though he already knows the outcome

Lawless: he has two favorites. Coffee bean (distinct from just plain coffee flavor) and moose tracks. I’m not sure what that’s called in other places? Basically it’s vanilla with peanut butter cups and fudge. Only goes for this when he’s depressed, if I’m honest. Otherwise it’s too sweet.

Mikuni: haagen daz amaretto almond crunch and their hojicha latte flavor. Forever sad that the former was limited edition and doesn’t make seasonal returns. It was absolutely perfect for his and jeje’s terrible Netflix movie nights (with the occasional appearance by johannes so they could make fun of the bad science together)

Jeje: since Mikuni only buys haagen daz (spoiled pretentious shit) he’s grateful they a rich pumpkin flavor that becomes available during autumn. He also really likes horchata milkshakes for the comforting taste of cinnamon.

Iduna: Tried butter pecan once and was hooked. The crunchiness of the pecans is her favorite part. It’s her go to for when Haagen Daz Creamy Vanilla Pudding flavor isn’t in season. Back home, though, it’s got to be the rather… Unique. Salty licorice flavor. She gave some to shuuhei one time just to watch him gag. She knows what she’s doing to that poor boy.

Freya: the simple freshness of strawberry ice cream is her guilty pleasure. She been thinking of making her own with an old hand churner. It would be fun, right? And it’s not like it would be difficult to get the ingredients she needs.

Nicco: Pistachio gelato, though he also enjoys the tartness and slight bitter aftertaste of limoncello flavor. He likes taking Ildio with him whenever there’s a new flavor he wants to try but isn’t sure he’ll like. Even if he doesn’t care for it, his servamp probably will. Does that make him mean?

Ildio: No preference as of yet. He’s still figuring this whole… Tasting your food thing out

Tsubaki: as expected, he loves matcha and red bean flavors. REALLY excited some of the Hagen daz hanamochi series is becoming a permanent flavor

Sakuya: rocky road. Sweet, crunchy, and a little bitter on the back end from the chocolate. Refuses to admit it but he also enjoys the hanamochi series. He’s stubborn. Whenever he wins a free popsicle he gives the stick to Mahiru, so inevitably when they hang out, that’s what he buys if they stop at the konbini, just for the chance to maybe earn some good boy points with his best friend and crush. And he thinks he’s subtle—

Reblog with your own headcanons! I love seeing what people add to my posts :3

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spiderlandry · 10 months

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honest — lo'ak sully

Description: Lo'ak has been preparing a courting gift for you, but you find out before he can even practice what he'll say. So why have you kept quiet about it?

Pairing: Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan x GN!Reader (Na'vi)

Warnings/tags: mostly fluff, jumps around between POVs, courting practices/traditions that i'm not sure is accurate, takes place in the future, au where the events of atwow never happened, small death mention? not edited or proofread sorry

Word Count: 2.1k

Author's note: first time writing for avatar, my obsession has been rekindled since i rewatched both movies so it's going to be everyone's problem. this has been in the drafts for a while and i wanted to edit it but i don't think i ever will

Jake Sully had realized early into his training with Neytiri that a prominent trait of the Na’vi is that they don’t lie. He chalked up her bluntness as a dislike for sky people, and though it was true to some extent, it was also because the concept of lying was almost foreign. Not in their nature. There are no reasons to lie in their books.

Until, of course, time passed.

A new generation emerged that learned to lie a human way. It likely began shortly after the arrival of the Sky People, the destruction of their home along with it. He couldn’t blame them.

Now, as the people have reclaimed the forest, Jake couldn’t help but notice that his children were liars. It started with his oldest lying to get out of training, and it trickled down slowly until he finally realized that Tuk began to feign sickness so she can be pampered.

It’s mostly harmless. Amusing, almost.

But not when it interferes with training, no. Because time and time again he has told his youngest son that it will cost him people’s lives. And just when he thinks Lo’ak is honing his focus, something pulls him away. A cocky attitude, a good idea horribly executed, anything of the sort.

But this time? The Olo’eyktan can’t figure it out.

This is the third time Lo’ak has gone off and ditched training an hour early. Neteyam always covers.

The next day, Jake approaches Lo’ak after dinnertime, before everyone has gone to sleep. The son sits on a log and the father takes the place beside him.

“You’re off your game.” Jake isn’t accusatory, not mad, but he states it as a fact.

Lo’ak can’t look into his father’s eyes. “Sorry, sir.”

The man sighs, breaking down the barrier he had built between him and his own. “Don’t call me sir when we’re not on the field.”

Lo’ak is quiet.

“Why are you off your game?”

“I’ll work on it.”

“Did I ask what you were gonna do about it?”

“You asked why.”

“And?”

Jake doesn’t expect it. Not so bluntly, at least. “I’m preparing a courting gift.”

A smile makes its way onto his face. “Is it for Y/N?”

The boy’s head snaps up at him, “No way,” he shakes his head. “Did Neteyam tell you? When I get my hands on—“

This pulls a laugh out of Jake. “Nobody had to tell me. Hell, your mother probably knew before me.”

“I just want to make sure it’s perfect, okay?”

Neytiri watches you interact with her children from afar—the way you let Tuk pull on your tail, how Kiri and Spider smile from atop a branch, Neteyam even going along with the game you invented. Lo’ak sits on the sidelines and watches with an adoration in his eyes she’d never seen until you were introduced to the Sully kids long ago.

It’s almost time for your training. But she lets you hold that time a bit more when she sees how closely you watch for her youngest son even when he sits this one out.

It’s not long until you’re pulled away by Mo’at to practice healing. You spend time with the other healers, shadowing them and watching them work.

Neytiri is showing you a more efficient way to mix paste when she remembers a conversation she had, days ago, with her Jake.

“Lo’ak is preparing to court Y/N.”

From the affections that have seemingly grown between you and her youngest son, she deduced a simple, irrefutable fact: Lo’ak has begun the process of courting you. That would also explain his comings and goings at odd times of day.

“You must be very happy, Y/N.” She cleans up the table, while she watches you recall the motions she performed earlier with the paste.

You hum in agreement.

“Are you excited?”

This doesn’t even remotely catch you off guard, too focused on the task. So you mutter, “for what?”

“That Lo’ak has decided to court you. You seem happy with him.”

You falter—this moment is not lost on Neytiri.

But she’s relieved when you say, almost breathless, “Yeah, yeah, I am.”

Neteyam is the witness to a trainweck about to happen.

Something has definitely shifted. Not just the past few days, but ever since Lo’ak first told him about the gifts he has prepared for you.

Weeks ago.

The first few days of comings and goings, Neteyam excused him. But it has been weeks since he’s finished his gifts, and the only thing holding Lo’ak back is himself. Neteyam has been hyping up his brother to give them to you, even making sure that you would get some time alone together despite how busy it is for hunting season, but Lo’ak never takes the plunge.

You and Neteyam are close, no one can deny that. He’s felt a sense of duty to protect you ever since you became part of the family, and more so now that you might actually be officially a Sully once you and Lo’ak become real. He’d be lying if he said he’s not excited at the thought of you being able to hang around and attend family gatherings without feeling like you’re intruding, something you opened up to him about.

Obviously, he knows about your affections for his brother. But it seems you are clueless to Lo’ak’s subtle advances, and he is sick of him moping around because of it.

At night, when the family is cleaning up after eating, they are all chatting around the fire and Neteyam calmly observes the scene, eating yovo fruit.

But their mother says something that puts this entire situation into a crescendo.

“They are quite smitten with you.” She says it as an offhanded comment, and his brother doesn’t respond at first, too focused on tidying up.

But Lo’ak hums. “Who?“

She almost laughs. Neteyam’s eyes widen as it dawns on him that something is about go go very, very wrong.

“Y/N, of course. Who else?”

Lo’ak’s head snaps up in surprise. “Really?” His tail swishes around, unable to contain his excitement.

Okay, maybe it won’t be so bad, Neteyam thinks.

“They are certainly happy that you’ve decided to court them.”

Oh.

Oh no.

Before Neteyam can stop this (and deep down, he knows it’s too late), Lo’ak’s eyes narrow, tail dropping to the ground with a thump, ears dropping.

“I haven’t even told them yet.”

At this, the entire family falls quiet. Spider and Kiri have stopped talking (even if only in hushed whispers), Neteyam stops chewing, hell—Tuk has stopped talking to their father, who is the last to notice the quiet.

Jake observes the situation.

“Dad,” Lo’ak catches his attention. “Did you tell them about the gift? Is it because I’m skipping on training? ‘Cause—“

“Woah, hey,” Jake holds his hand up to stop him. Neteyam can read his brother unraveling, his tail between his legs and ears flicking in panic. “Slow down.”

Lo’ak breathes.

“I didn’t tell anybody, okay?”

That’s when he turns around, facing Neteyam.

“Was it you? Did you say something?” Though Lo'ak is cautious to make accusations, the older brother can tell it’s at the tip of his tongue.

But their mother interrupts, thankfully.

“Lo’ak,” she says gently. “I did not realize they didn’t know. It’s my mistake.”

The youngest son slowly faces her. “What—what did they say?”

“That they are happy.“

“Nothing else?”

She shakes her head.

Lo’ak has been enamoured by your presence since he was little.

He remembers vividly how you showed up at his family’s tent with an offering of fruits you gathered yourself, as a thank you to the Olo’eyktan for saving your father from a brush with death during hunting. You were both just nine then, wide-eyed and less weathered by the world and its tragic circumstances.

And for years, he grew closer to you, though keeping a distance because that’s what he needed to accept any capacity you’ll grant, even if it was just close friendship.

But as the years passed, the both of you maturing alongside each other, attending the most important rites of passage and ceremonies (he can still hear how loud you cheered once he tamed his ikran), he has found himself almost unable to hold back how he feels. He realized that he didn’t have much time left to court you when all of a sudden you had different people—some of his friends, too—in the clan asking to court you after you’d completed Uniltaron.

He got to work immediately, skipping out on training and having his brother cover for him when he didn’t show to join the hunting party even when Jake insisted. He made himself unavailable just to dedicate his time into impressing you. He learned under one of the most skilled jewelry-makers in the clan to ensure it met the standards for a proper courting gift—he needed you to know he cared.

But as he stumbles out of his family’s kelku, eyes immediately scanning for yours, he thinks he must have fucked up somehow. You found out about his courting gift before he could even say a word to you about it. And you haven’t said anything to him since then, that means you don’t return his feelings…right?

If he were in your situation and found out you were preparing to court him, he would have ran to you right away, saying yes to your proposal. You’ve been quiet. Maybe you’re deciding how to turn him down gently. Eywa, must this really happen?

When you’re nowhere to find in your family’s kelku, your sister mentions that you haven’t been home since eclipse.

He finds you exactly where he expects you to be, just like every time you have needed space. You’re alone up on a branch, secluded by trees in the outskirts, but he can see your shadow just enough against the indigo sky.

He climbs.

As he reaches the thick branch, you’re already looking at him with a slight upturn of your lips.

A smile is good, right? At least you don’t hate him. You would have pushed him off by now if you did.

He perches himself close to the trunk, a few inches from you.

“Where have you been?” He asks when you don’t say anything upon his arrival.

You turn to him. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Fair,” He hauls himself up to sit next to you, returning the smile. “Are you going to answer, though?”

“No.”

No? No?!

Lo’ak’s smug demeanor falters, ears flat against his skull, and you could probably tell judging by the way you hold back a snicker.

“Is it…” He struggles to find the words when you’re looking at him like that. “Is it true that my mother told you?”

“Told me what?”

He fights the urge to make a remark, because he can tell you’re playing with him. You clearly know what he’s alluding to, yet you refuse.

“You know what.” He adds flatly.

“I do not.”

Eywa.

He chose you, after all. He needs to own it. Regardless of how you’ll turn him down.

“That I plan to court you. If—if you allow me to.”

He is certain his heart stops beating when you take his hand, smoothing your palm over his before clasping them together. The warmth travels throughout his body.

“On one condition.”

“Anything, I’ll do anything—” He doesn’t even care if it makes him sound desperate. “I will.”

“You should not care if your courting gifts are perfect,” You mutter, losing a little bit of confidence and Lo’ak realizes your eyes have a sheen to them. “I think you are already perfect. I see you, Lo’ak.”

This is the moment he realizes that, as much as you’ve held his heart in your hands, he has held yours.

“I see you, yawne.”

#avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #loak sully #loak #lo'ak #lo'ak sully #lo'ak x reader #loak x reader #loak sully x reader #lo'ak sully x reader #avatar the way of water x reader #atwow x reader #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan #loak fluff

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wonwooslibrary · 10 months

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svt as boyfriends ♡ wonwoo edition

member: wonwoo x gn!reader genre: fluff, bullet points :3 word count: 876 summary: wonu's gamer bf era warnings: none !! just know that i am in love with jeon wonwoo. (me saying things like that is what makes it hard to see i'm a junhui ult on this blog) author's note: happy wonwoo day !!!!! summer is about half way over :( but I hope this wonu boyfriend au will make you feel better <3

There is absolutely no way that the Jeon Wonwoo is not the “gamer bf”

I have some very specific thoughts about boyfie Wonwoo so buckle your seatbelts and make sure to keep all hands and feet in the cart while it is in motion

Quality Time

Jeon Wonwoo is the king of quality time!!

He would so much rather just chill with you at home than go anywhere

Hates parties and only goes to them if another member of svt is hosting it because he’ll feel bad if he doesn’t spend time with his brothers

Feels uncomfortable around your friends but will go with you to see them anyway because as long as he’s with you, he’s happy

ABSOLUTELY loves when you ask if you can join him when he is gaming!

If you play games a lot, he’ll be all pouty when you beat him at something like Call of Duty, but if you don’t play games a lot, you’ll be pouty when you find out he let you win at Mario Kart

He would also love to just have cuddle time where he reads his articles online and you just game on your phone, read a novel or something

Words of Affirmation

THIS MAN IS FSDKJFNSDKJ so good at affirmation pls I could sob just thinking about it

He never fails to make you feel worthy, and perfect !

Always compliments you when he’s watching you do something, like if you win a race in Mario Kart he’d be saying something like “I’m so proud of you, good job!” even if it is something simple

He’ll be over the freaking moon if you tell him you got a promotion at work, he’ll go on a rant about how much he loves you and will be on your side no matter what

Do pet names count as words of affirmation bc Wonu is the type to say something like “babygirl/babyboy”, “sweetie” or “sweetheart” aaaaa

Just imagine him being like “good morning, sweetheart” AAAA sorry i’m in love-

Anyway Wonu is amazing at compliments and also loving you

Physical Touch

Is awkward lmao but he will try his best

He would love to rest his head on you, if you’re taller, in between your shoulder blades while back-hugging you, but if you’re shorter, on your shoulders

I can totally see him waiting to hold your hand when you’re shopping, going on dates, or just chilling in the living room

Loves cuddles but would refuse to admit to it

Please let this man be the softie we all know he is !!

Though, even tho he loves being around you and touching you…he always needs his alone time, and you are more than willing to accept that because let’s face it: everyone needs to be alone once in a while

He is such a simp tho, if you ask for even the slightest PDA he goes all out, even if he gets embarrassed about it: he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders if you’re sitting next to each other in a movie theater or a restaurant

He’ll also 100% playfully push you, like if you tell a really bad joke or if he is pretending to be annoyed with you (we all know he could never actually have any negative feelings towards you)

Acts of Service

Acts of service is totally his calling: he’ll love to do literally anything for you

When you can’t sleep or are sick, you’ll ask him to sing you something to relax you and he’ll sing for hours until the both of you are asleep next to each other

He seems like the type to love doing simple chores like laundry: it keeps him distracted, gives him the alone time he needs, and it helps you out !

As soon as you pull a “Wonu could you do this for me 👉👈 🥺” he’ll be sprinting to make you happy

My favorite Wonwoo act of service is: teaching you how to do things…

This man loves to learn, and who else is he going to share his knowledge with? You want to know better ways to keep your plants alive? He’s got you!

You’re unsure how to make this side dish for dinner? He’s texting you links to twenty different recipes and helping you pick the one you like most

He just loves to interest you in these silly little facts that he hopes would help you with something, whether it be now, or in 10 years

He’s a helpful bean <3

Gift Giving

Uses his money to his advantage (pls stop him before he takes over the world)

If you even mention an article of clothing being cute in a store, you suddenly have one of every color the next day

If you are like “Hey Wonu do you wanna go see __ in concert?”, you best believe that he’s buying you VIP tickets

And when you complain to him that he is spending way too much money on you, he just shrugs

“What else am I going to do with my money? We have a nice place, and I have everything I could want, as well as you, I might as well use it to make you happy”

I love him…

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bethecowboy00 · 11 months

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i’m gonna say this once and not revisit it again since the last time i commented on this i got ppl in my asks talking like they have no sense:

it’s not wrong nor is it bad if black readers ask non black writers (specifically the white ones) to be inclusive in their work. there’s nothing wrong with wanting diversity, and there’s nothing wrong with being uncomfortable about non poc only writing for fair skinned, skinny people.

some of you people have actually LOST your minds. in the past two hours i’ve seen black writers and readers recieve DEATH THREATS because they DARED to criticize authors (not gonna say their names because i don’t have to time for people calling me a monkey on anon) for not being inclusive. what is wrong with y’all? like, genuinely? is it just white audacity or are all of y’all mentally insane?

and for all the people who will probably flood me with “write it yourself if you want it so bad”, that shouldn’t be the case. we shouldn’t have to put out our own inclusive work, just for it to not get the same attention as all of the writings with pale skinned readers do. the LEAST you can do as a white person with a large amount of following is educate yourself on how to make your writing appeal to a broader demographic. y’all are ADULTS, act as such.

i hope this made sense, i’m sick and groggy rn so it might sound like i’m talking out of my ass, but in conclusion, please remember that the world doesn’t not revolve around white people, specifically white women.

small edit: to add onto the critiquing certain writers on here, i don’t think i’ve EVER seen a group of dick riders go as hard for two people like i saw today. there’s an actual fanpage dedicated to one of the writers and they’re in peoples inboxes and comments calling them niggers and all types of monkeys? have y’all lost it? all over a simple request? some people really don’t deserve to be on this app.

#ellie williams x reader #mind you ellie has only ever dated poc #and here y’all are #marcell speaks 🤷🏽‍♀️#and for people calling this drama can y’all get a grip as well??#this is an actual issue within the writing community

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veeluvss · 1 year

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How the team would react to you being personally connected to a case:

Female edition

I want this to be a sweet, oneshot kind of vibe with each character

Reader is personally connected to a case, each different for each character

Please ask for requests :)

JJ -

you’re back at your home town, dealing with a case close to childhood friends.

You couldn’t look in the eye of any of the team. Your childhood best friend had grown up be an unsub: murdering young girls. At first, you ran up to them, hugged them. They even kissed you but the growing suspicion in your gut made you suspect the one person who got you through childhood. The one person you thanked your lucky stars for everyday.

JJ walked over to you, a coffee for you in her hand and sat opposite you. She slid you the coffee and took a sip of her own.

“It’s not your fault,” she whispered gently. You scoffed. “It’s not. You had no idea. These things happen to people unfortunately. Please don’t blame yourself, love.”

You sighed, “maybe if I spoke to him more - paid for his therapy it would be different.”

“Maybe so, but maybe not. Don’t blame yourself for living your own life y/n. He’s responsible for his own actions,” she muttered. Your eyes filled with tears and you let your shoulders slump. JJ set down her coffee and moved to the sofa seat beside you. The simple, gentle rub on your back made the dam break. She pulled you into her arms, holding your head close to her chest. You needed this hug.

Emily-

The victim has experienced the same trauma as you, forcing you to confront your own demons during the cognitive interview.

“Hey, y/n, wait up.” Emily said quickly as you left the room. Your heart was pounding hard in your chest, your vision was blurry- you felt sick. You didn’t want to wait up. You felt as if you could hurl at any moment. Yet, it was Emily and you couldn’t not listen to her.

You turned to her, hot tears streaming down your cheeks and her face was full of concern. “What’s happened?” She asked, resting her hand on your shaking ones as you rubbed them furiously together. You were hyper aware of the multiple people around you and you felt vulnerable. Emily, being the best profiler, knew this and walked you into a side room. She shut the door softly and you fell into even more tears. She grabbed you, holding you close.

“My dad-“ you stuttered out, in her arms. “He did the same.”

“Oh, honey,” she held you tighter, stroking your hair. “Do you want to sit out of this one?” She asked and you didn’t want to, you didn’t want to leave because people would ask questions but all of your emotions were driving you wild. You only nodded in her arms and she planted a soft kiss on your temple.

“That’s okay, you head back to the hotel and I’ll tell the team you’re poorly. Do you want me to come with you?” You shook your head but sent her a small thank you whilst wiping your tears.

“I’ll come check on you later,” she whispered, caressing your arm and looking at you with big eyes.

PG-

You had distanced yourself from the team after a particularly tough case. No one knew why but Garcia, after investigating. She sends you a voicemail.

“Hey my sugar,

So don’t hate me but I was a little worried about you. I know, I know, you told us all not to be but I haven’t seen you around recently. I miss you and your little laugh. And your little legs too. *giggle*

I saw that you were related to the unsub. I’m sorry sweetheart, I really am. It’s not a good feeling to have and sometimes we all need a little rest. That’s okay.

However; we all need a pick me up to. I’ll be at yours for 5pm. With wine, ice-cream and some kittens - I’ve been adopting them.

I love you so much y/n. I hope you know that. The whole team are here for you and I’m always here as a shoulder to cry on.

Your love,

PG.”

Tara-

The unsub suffers from the same mental health disorder as you. You feel victimised by the team as they list off the symptoms similar to yours.

You stood in the corner, arms crossed, face flat. The team presented their profile - making sure the officers knew exactly who they were looking for but at this point, they may as well be looking for you. Yet you’d tried to tell them the profile was wrong. He wasn’t suffering from this condition, no matter how much he said he was in his letters. Once the group dispersed, Tara noticed you staring at the floor. She knew instantly, knowing all about your diagnosis as she was the one who suggested you talk to a professional.

“We know that not everyone with this condition is this violent,” Tara muttered to you, standing beside you and playing with files. You scoffed and put some hair behind your ear.

“Sure as hell seems like you think it,” you sighed.

“Y/n,” Tara sighed, turning to you. “This unsub has another branch, another brain to you. All mental health is different and although you fall under the same tree it doesn’t mean you’re anything like him.”

“Tell that to the rest of the team who seem to think I’m capable of cold blooded murder,” you groaned, walking away.

Half an hour later, Tara came to the team. “I think I’ve found a trigger.” She told them. She went on to explain what she thought made the unsub start killing. “And I’ve done some research,” she sighed, glancing at you. “*insert mental disorder* has a tendency to make the sufferer timid and shy around others - not violent. Actually the opposite so although he says he has it on the ransom notes, it doesn’t fit the profile.”

“They’re not violent?”

“No. They stir away from violence and confrontation.” Tara confirmed.

“Okay so he doesn’t have it then,” JJ said. You nodded, smiling. You knew you were right.

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orangeinecstasy · 6 months

Note

inhaler bf thoughts please please please please🙏

an: AAAHHH YES IVE BEEN WAITING TO DO THIS!!! had to do ryan first because i love him so much.

ryan bf thoughts ฺ｡*:･

quality time!! he will 100% just pop over to your place so that he can be around you. he doesn’t care if you’re just sitting on the couch as long as he’s with you

move dates! can totally see him wanting to try out different theaters and maybe even a drive in. also you totally make him watch the 1996 romeo and juliet OMG AND WHIPLASH!

#1 passenger princess. he doesn’t care that you’re the one that can drive he loves it

spa days were you guys do face masks

soooo many pictures of you on his phone. we all know and love his random aesthetic instagram stories and you’d be all over them

park dates

late night music sessions where he constantly asks your opinion on lyrics or how something sounds

songs dedicated to you at shows - would put out when i’m with you from the vault just to play it for you

constantly sending you songs that remind him of you

definitely have some sort of couples item like a matching necklace or ring. but it’s something simple like a silver chain or a small band. nothing too crazy that screams i’m matching with my partner

going back to the romeo and juliet part - definitely did a couples costume based off of their party outfit

definitely soft launched the relationship. he just wants to feel like yours and his and not another third parties

definitely wants to be the little spoon after a long day. you make him feel safe and happy and he wants to be fully engulfed in that comfort

reading together

wearing each other's clothes. because he's a short king you both can totally swap clothes super easy

sending him edits you find of him on TikTok - i KNOW he thinks they're super funny and secretly LOVESSS them

calls you before every show when you're not there

museum dates-- i feel like he would want to go to an art museum most of the time, but you would drag him to a science one at least for one of the dates

baking together-- he always tries to eat the cookie dough and you always tell him he'll get sick

painting your nails together

can 100% see him wearing a ring of yours on a chain around his neck. maybe your claddagh to be a bit cheeky

when he's sitting next to you he definitely will drum on you thigh or tap his fingers against to some rhythm that's stuck in his mind

dancing in the kitchen together late at night

such a big words of affirmation guy

music store dates where you guys try out interments and pick up a few new records

so so so many coffee shop dates

wine tasting in italy

an: the other three guys bf thoughts are already in the works. i wasn't sure if i should be a nsfw section for inhaler's but lmk if you guys would be interested in that!

#inhaler #inhaler dublin #inhaler Dublin band #inhaler x reader #inhaler fanfic #inhaler image #inhaler images #eli hewson #elijah hewson #ryan mcmahon #robert keating #bobby skeetz #josh jenkinson #fan fiction #fan fic writing #fan fic author

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 9 months

Text

roles reversed

pairing: ethan landry x female!reader

WC: 4.4K

warnings: cursing, sexual implications, blood, stabbing, the whole ladder/apartment chase scene.

summary: ethan and anika switch to their original roles.

A/N: based on the original script. ethan isnt related to anyone, landry is his actual last name. gonna do a second version where reader dies instead of ethan cause double the angst is always fun! also i put the song cause i saw a scream edit

@alecmores my editor💗

been in the drafts since may 6

masterlist / ethan landry

version 2

🎧 heathens death and void

everyone was to gather at the carpenter's sister’s apartment. after the killing of two blackmore students with sam’s license at the scene of the crime, you all knew ghostface was back whether you liked it or not. people were so obsessed with those sick fucking movies and now obsessed with sam carpenter and it was annoying as hell.

so after your classes for the day, you walked to the apartment with your boyfriend, ethan landry, after his econs class. then soon were joined by chad and mindy who said anika would be joining a bit later.

“what do you always say about the love interest?” you questioned the horror expert. she rolled her eyes at your words.

“never trust the love interest. i know, i know. but that also goes for tree boy beside you.” an accusatory finger was thrown at the six two boy. ethan’s brows furrowed in the middle, he looked a bit scared of her.

you couldn’t argue with her. you gazed up at ethan with a fake pitying look, “sorry tree boy, but i’m gonna have to hold off on kisses and sex until this is over. not trying to be a horror movie stereotype.”

you heard mindy make fake gagging noises and chad follow up with an immature ‘ewwww’. all ethan did in response to your comment was grab the hand on his side, intertwine your fingers and he pulled both of your hands into his jacket pocket even though the weather wasn’t cold. with the simple smirk pulling his lips you knew your words didn’t bother him and took the joke in stride.

“okay… not to sound like an asshole or anything but-“ mindy turned around to face the three of you since she was ahead of your group, “who do you think is the killer? think stab two. we had new characters introduced and nancy loomis. so either the killer is doing this because of the movies and is just a psycho or doing all this for revenge.”

“how about we not speculate about our friend group?” chad argued with his twin. mindy gave him a bored look before setting her hungry eyes on you and ethan. you did a quick look at ethan just as he looked at you. both of your eyes looking over the other's face, probably determining if they could be the killer.

“i don’t think it’s anyone in our group. definitely a psycho who’s watched the stab franchise a bit too much.” ethan gave his answer. mindy cocked her head with squinted eyes, “okay.” she said quietly.

“knock it off.” a simple command due to her tone towards ethan. she held her hands up in surrender and turned on her heel.

the sounds of horns and people talking or yelling filled the air along with the loud jackhammering of construction. mindy was on her phone doing something while chad and ethan were discussing a show they were currently watching in their dorm.

you let your eyes wander to the pocket where your hands sat, you could feel ethan’s thumb rubbing the top of your hand to your knuckles. then you tilted your head back and peered at him with love-struck eyes. how his eyes were expressive and his brows were wiggling, his lips pulling into a blinding smile and his smile lines creasing. his free hand moving openly in the air to get a point across or how he would trail a finger along his jawline.

he could never be a killer. yeah, his height and body build would add him to the list since everyone mostly speculates the killer to usually be a man. but you knew ethan, longer than the woodsboro group had.

you knew how sweet and nervous ethan is. how he stutters over words when he feels flustered; especially when you first started dating. how he would go to the gym when he was stressed and needed to blow off steam. ethan who’s a cat guy and constantly talks to his mom and younger sister back home.

ethan landry isn’t ghostface and you would swear it on your life.

“y/n? hello… earth to y/n!”

you startle at the call of your name and from the hand waving in front of your face. you wack chad’s hand away with a scowl painting your face, he just laughs before walking through the front door of the apartment building. guess you completely zoned out on the walk. chad and mindy left the two of you behind, ethan staring down at you with a worried frown as you waited for the elevator to come back.

“everything okay?” his voice was hushed. you swiped away the pout on his lips with your thumb. your eyes watching his face as he does the same, his eyes gentle.“you know i trust you very much, right?” your palm held his cheek. his brows twitched, “yeah. of course and i trust you with my heart.” he leaned into your touch.

“we just have to get through this shitty experience and things will slowly go back to normal. we can go on a date, any date you want and we can feel like teenagers again. and i’ll give you all the kisses and cuddles you want and give you the best se-“

ethan swooped down and stopped your rambling with his warm and plush lips. it was just a simple touch, but simplicity always worked in your relationship. ethan pulled away and leaned his forehead against yours. you pushed your face up to bump noses together.

“this will all work out. we just gotta stick together.” ethan whispered before leaning back. you kept quiet and nodded at his words.

the ding of the elevator broke the silence and ethan cocked his head and then pulled you behind him. you let the metal box go up its eight floors and then mindlessly walked the hall and into the open door.

the scene before you didn’t look like it belonged in a horror movie. sam walked with blankets and pillows in her arms before setting them on the free chair. chad and tara chat happily (and sickly staring into each other's eyes) as they hang out in the kitchen making dinner. and mindy who was setting the table and pulling faces and making gagging noises to her brother and friend. and then there were you and ethan, hand in hand as you walked through the door with easy smiles on your faces. enjoying the simplicity and comradery of the moment.

“where’s quinn?” ethan questioned as he dropped his backpack by the door.

sam cocked her head towards her roommates' closed door and left it at that. she had a guy over. you took a quick survey of everyone and noticed, “anika still busy?” mindy answered right away, “yeah. said her study group was running late. even sent a picture with the time and everything.”

you didn’t want to make any assumptions, but everyone was a suspect sadly. and if you had to be a bit guarded of certain people then that’s the price to pay. you just hummed at mindy and left it at that before moving back to your boyfriend’s side.

the two of you sat on the couch as the news played on low volume. your arm was looped through his and you leaned your head against his shoulder. his hand fell upon your thigh, his fingers moving back and forth, and he plopped his head down on yours.

you could hear the faint volume of their voices in the kitchen, their laughter and bickering over something. you wished you were closer to your friends, but you understood why you and ethan, along with anika were kinda black sheep. the four of them went through something tragic and moved away to leave it in the past and now it’s come back to haunt them.

with a shuffle of your head, you gave a quick peck to ethan’s clothed shoulder. something just compelled you to show him a once of your love. when you moved your face back to the tv a second later you felt ethan move and the warmth of his kiss to your temple.

everything was going to be okay

you allowed yourself to get swept away by the feeling of ethan and inhaled deeply to have his scent invade your nostrils, wanting to make sure you have him ingrained into your skin. you had that for five minutes until he moved and grabbed the remote off the coffee table.

“hey guys…” he called over his shoulder to your friends, “might want to hear this.” he pressed down on the volume button.

“with two blackmore students dead along with a horror professor, some believe ghostface has made himself a new home in new york.”

you felt your blood rush faster and run cold.

“many believe this could be the work of samantha carpenter. they held a stab shrine in their home and many know her to be the killer from the woods-“

and the feed cut out with the remote flying from sam’s hand. she had an angry scowl painted on her face and her shoulders were tense with her breathing coming out in pants.

“fucking reddit,” she grumbled before walking away.

tara waited for a second before following her sister. chad and mindy stayed with you and ethan wanting to give the two privacy during this rough patch.

“why are people believing that sam was the killer? is it just because of a couple of reddit and twitter threads?” you inquired.

mindy sighed and chad swiped a hand down his face, “pretty much. plus her family history…” chad trailed off. you didn’t know about her family history, but now probably wasn’t the time to ask those questions.

you saw chad and mindy walk away and join the sisters at the dining table, a broken family. you were happy they were there for each other, they could only really trust their group.

“y/n…” ethan squeezed your thigh, your eyes locking with his.his puppy dog eyes sparkled and his grin shined, “i just… i just wanted to tell you…” he licked his lips before leaning towards your ear, words only meant for you to keep. “i just wanted to tell you that i love you.”

he pulled away from the side of your face and looked back into your widened orbs, your pupils surely dilated. your mouth was a bit agape, absorbing the three words and eight letters into your brain while also trying to deduce if you should say them back. ethan saying them almost made it seem like he was already resigning himself to a terrible fate. and you badly wanted to echo the words with your whole heart but held back. this wasn’t going to be a final goodbye between lovers, it was going to be a promise from you.

so you broke your joke rule. your hands met the sides of ethan’s face, his chubby cheeks being given a firm squeeze by your palms. you used your hold to pull his head towards you, hands doing a slight tilt for a better, more intimate kiss. his top lip caught between your top and bottom, teeth doing a slight clink together. his hands trailed to hold your waist and pull you as close as possible on the couch, which was appropriate with other people in the space. it was easy to slip into the automatic rhythm the both of you are used to when it comes to the other's lips.

you could tell it was starting to get a bit heated, from either you or ethan, you weren’t one hundred percent sure. with the hands still on his face you pushed him away, he tried to resist and jump back in, but you just giggled at his eagerness. so you gave one then two, then a final third peck to his lips before completely pulling away.

“i’ll say the words when all is good. i don’t want to fall into the horror movie trope of couples being happy then dying.”

“you’ve been hanging out with mindy too much.” you just rolled your eyes and soaked up his laugh. you wish you could bottle the sound for rainy days.

you heard a phone ringing and then voices, you turned to the dining area and saw tara holding a phone away from sam who was stretching for the device. the ringing stopped then another sound followed. everyone got quiet for a moment until-

a moan came from quinn’s room.

“ugh,” you stuck your tongue out. of course, quinn would be getting some right now. you heard a few sighs follow and then multiple dings. and after the dings, you heard chairs scraping and feet rushing. the four of them all faced quinn’s closed door that suddenly got quiet.

both you and ethan stood from the couch, ethan pushing you behind him with an arm stretched out. you gripped his shirt into your fist as you waited for the ball to drop.

instead of a ball dropping, it was quinn’s door being slammed open and her body being shoved into ethan. the impact caused the both of you to stumble. when her back hit the floor you saw all the blood covering her body and purple silk pajamas. a scream was ripped from your throat.

and there he stood in all his haunting glory. ghostface. he took slow steps, each thud sounding like thunder in the silent apartment. he held the bloodied knife up and wiped it clean just as he passed the threshold, and tilted his head. a challenge.

“run.” sam firmly said just as ghostface sprung forward.

everything happened in a flash.

chad, mindy, and tara darted straight for the front door. with their quick feet, they were able to avoid ghostface as he swung the knife and cut you in the upper arm, the sting hitting instantly.

“stay the fuck back!” ethan yelled. you had your eyes closed as you clutched the open wound, but you could hear shuffling. the grunts of ethan who you assumed was keeping the killer's attention on him now.

when your eyes opened you saw ghostface with just one hand wrapped tightly around ethan’s throat. ethan’s hand gripping the black fabric at the wrist to try and push him away or loosen the hold for some air.

“ethan!” you cried as you kicked your foot into their bicep or shoulder. anything to break him away from ethan. but all ghostface did was give a menacing tilt of his head while staring down ethan and with his free hand, stabbed the knife straight into your thigh.

a scream ripped from your throat which was then followed by a deeper cry of pain. with tears clumping your lashes and a quiver to your lips, you stared in horror as you watched ghostface’s knife cut upward in ethan’s abdomen. the gloved hand is still constricting ethan’s airway, ghost face leaning in closer, taunting him.

you pushed yourself off the floor with the help of the furniture behind you, leg wobbly and arm weak from the bleeding wound. you were planning to rush at him, hoping to knock him off ethan and allow enough time for an escape. but you didn’t need your plan when you saw sam rushing into the room with the wooden knife block before throwing it down onto his head. she did two hard hits that threw him off balance long enough for the both of you to grab ethan off the floor and run into quinn’s room.

ethan stumbled on his feet before flopping on the red-soaked bedding as he clutched his stomach, his shirt soaking dark crimson from the brutal attack. sam locked the door and you took a breath before it was snatched away as you looked at the crime scene you were standing in. blood was sprayed on the walls, and bedding was soaked and ripped. and when you walked into the bathroom, you almost threw up from the sight and heavy smell of copper. “oh god.” quinn’s hookup was gutted and limply stuffed in the tub with blood smearing the white tiles.

feeling overwhelmed and ready to pass out, you turn at just the right time as you spot ghostface walking through sam’s room and heading towards the open bathroom door. “fuck,” you muttered. on quick instinct, you slammed the door shut and with sweaty fingers, you managed to get the lock turned before sprinting back to sam and ethan.

both their heads were turned your way when you ran back and closed the last door, but sadly no lock. you looked around for something, anything to form a barricade.“sam! dresser! hurry!” you gasped with each quick breath.

you assessed ethan’s physical state as you kept your back to the door. his body was curled in, arms crossed over his stomach. you could see a slight shake to his shoulder, his face hidden away by shadows and rouge hair.

“e-ethan! e-pretty boy!” the nickname that always made ethan flush tomato red was shouted with a choked sob. “just- just hold on! please! can- can you do that?”

he nodded his head then looked over his shoulder at you. his face was going sheet white and it looked clammy and sweaty. you could barely see the imprint of a hand wrapped around the smooth skin of his neck.

a loud banging noise stole you from your thoughts and your panic resumed. sam came just in time with the dresser. you moved from the door to give her a hand and just as it was all the way, a black arm shot through and gave another swipe to your arm. the two of you struggled against the strong force of ghostface trying to force his way into the room. giving more weight against the door caused his arm to slither away and finally the door closed.

“we need a way out,” sam stated. “no shit,” ethan sarcastically replied, still hunched.

“no offense-“ sam was cut off with a shove to the door, dresser legs screeching. “fuck fuck fuck,” you cried with your eyes closed as tears ran.

“ethan- ethan would just slow us down… we can’t go through the front door.” “i’m not fucking leaving him behind!” your anger and protectiveness spiked, “go sam, just go and get help.”

“no… you’r- you’re not-“ “ethan! i can’t- i’m not losing you!”

“no one is being left behind!” sam yelled, “we just need a different…” her words trailed off.

ghostface advances were getting rougher. each shove or kick sent to the door causes you and sam to slip on your feet. you even started to hear the knife going at the wood.you looked to sam, her eyes straying towards the window. you saw their neighbor as he waved his arms to get your attention, his window already open.

“ethan- ethan can you- can you open the window?” sam asked. she knew you would need the added weight for the door.

ethan pushed himself from the foot of the bed and limped a few steps and weakly pushed the frame up. the neighbor's voice greeting your ears and then banging, but a metallic banging. he grabbed a ladder and pushed it your way, ethan wrapped a hand around a step and pulled it the rest of the way. it sat between the two windows above a high alley.

“sam!” the man yelled, “this might be the only way!” you could hear the wind picking up speed.

your head whipped to sam. her eyes darted everywhere, from you and ethan as he slumped to the floor beside the window, to the guy with his arms outstretched and then just around the room. another shove to the door. time was running out.

“sam…” you sounded like a scared child. her eyes softened at the weak tone in your voice, “we just gotta.” you needed to encourage her to go so then you and ethan can follow. “it’ll be okay,” a crack.

she licked her lips, she hesitated then walked to the ladder. you made sure all your weight was pushed to the dresser and your feet were firmly planted on the glossy hardwood. she looked back at you and you nodded with a fake grin.

everything was going to be okay

sam climbed the sill and slowly crawled out. ghostface was getting more impatient, more aggressive. you could hear faint grunts and huffs. you prayed to whatever higher being was out there, wishing for everyone to be safe.

“swe- sweetheart…” ethan’s voice was strained. you whimpered when you saw how his eyes were fluttering with each blink. “we could- we could go to coney island… get- get ice cream… lay on the- on the beach.” his eyes closed for too long and you yelled his name. his lids peeled open. “and- and you could re- read me a book. always- always love your voice.” a grin pulled his lips. his cheeks held no color.

“sounds like a date.” you confirmed with mascara tear tracks.

you looked out the window and saw the man grab sam and pull her into his arms. you knew ethan needed to go next, you weren’t sure how much longer he could hold out.

“ethan, you need to go next.” he instantly shook his head and you weren’t having this argument right now. “ethan you’re seriously injured. you need to-“ “go. please.” he was begging you.

“ethan…” tears stung your eyes as another jolt hit the door. “it’s okay. i’m right behind you.” he kept eye contact.

you hesitate another second but push forward. you kneel in front of him, cup his sweaty cheeks and press your lips together. now may not have been the time, but it was to give a bit of calm to your panic. you needed ethan to know and you needed to feel him.

“i’m right behind,” he repeated. for you or him, it didn’t matter.

on adrenaline that was slowly heading towards a panic attack, you crawled like a baby across the ladder. the wind was whipping your hair and shaking your support beam. there were dull pains in your thigh and arm, blood dried to a crust and it pulled at your body hair.

“come on, y/n. almost there.” you heard sam’s encouragement over your hiccups. you wanted to look back at ethan but pushed forward.

sam and the guy wrap both their arms around your shaking frame and pull you into the safe of his place. you lean out the window and shout for ethan, his body nowhere in sight.

“ethan!” you cry out, more tears coming forth.you could still hear ghostface going at the door which means ethan only has a small time limit to safely make his way over. you were beginning to worry he passed out, already succumbed to the dark. with another shout of his name, you finally saw his head of curly brown hair as he pushed off the floor.

“ethan! come on! you can do it, we’re so close!” hoping to give him something to hold onto metaphorically as he physically held the ladder.

he moved slowly, if this were a lighter situation you would have called him a sloth. but at this moment you could pass out when you see the dresser slide over ethan’s shoulder. ghostface walks into the frame, just watching like the four of you are animals at a petting zoo in your unnatural habitats.

“ethan!” sam called his name. he looked up slowly, “what?”

“hurry! please!” you held your arms out. ethan looked behind him and then started to move just a bit faster.

ghostface stabbed the knife into the wood then reached for the ends of the ladder. ethan was so close, if he just kept moving… ghost face started to shake the metal. side to side with harsh jolts. ethan gripped the steps with a tight grasp, his knuckles going white. ethan tried to push forward, but another shake stopped him in his tracks.

and then ghostface started to twist the ladder, forcing it to lean right then left. you saw how bloody ethan’s hands were, he didn’t have a secure hold.

“i- i can’t…” he shook his head and you could hear the breaking in his throat.

“ethan… baby please.” your whole upper body was leaning towards him. hands held out for him to take.

he took a small step and another before a shake happened. he laid his body close to the steps, arms curled under for extra support.

“y/n… i don’t want to die.” he was crying.

“you’re not. you just gotta push forward. i got you, pretty boy. coney island, okay?” you almost couldn’t recognize your voice from how rough it sounded.

ethan was just two steps away from the safe haven. two steps away from your arms around his body. two steps away from hearing you say i love you back and two steps away from your normal date.

with one step left it’s all gone.

ghostface gave a sharp twist to the right and ethan slipped. his body falling eight stories down and then smacking into a dumpster below. he landed on his back and you could see the pool of blood growing as he lay lifeless, staring at you. your boyfriend was dead.

a wail ripped from your chest and out your throat. your nails clawed into the wood frame as you stared below you. your knees buckled and you crumbled to the floor. you heaved for air, feeling yourself suffocate to a dark sea. your bones felt heavy, clothes too close to your skin, voices and noises turned to a buzzing sound and your vision was blurring.

you wanted to crawl out of your skin. you tugged at your hair before scratching harshly at your forearm till it turned red with irritation. you gave another deep cry.arms wrapped tight over your arms, hands being crushed to your chest. you were being rocked and you could faintly hear words in your ear. you sobbed into the person's clothes, your fingers digging into your shirt like you usually did with ethan.

“i- i didn’t even-“ your hiccups stopped your sentence every few words, “- even get to tell him.” it made the pain in your heart squeeze even tighter.

“tell him what?” you heard sam ask.

memories flashed behind your eyes. ethan smiling while the shined down on him, making him glow. ethan laughing at a stupid joke chad said that wasn’t even funny. ethan with his head buried in your stomach as you ran a hand through his hair while you read aloud. your first kiss. first time. he just ran across your mind.

ethan ethan ethan ethan ethan

“i didn’t get to say i love you back.”

...

tags: @astrxq

#Ethan Landry #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry blurb #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry angst #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry scream 6 #Scream VI #Scream 6 #scream 6 imagine #scream 6 x reader #Jack Champion #jack champion scream 6 #jack champion x reader #jack champion imagine

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