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fnf-amateur-writing · 2 years

Note

I’m back and I’m sorry to bring sadness but I need some comfort because my Christmas went terribly. Could I have some Updike and Sarvente (seperate) with an S/O who feels dejected and upset because of a Christmas gone wrong? Family started fighting and they stayed in their room the entire day. —☕️

Me on my way to bring Hot Beverage Anon some love

TW: Some mild angst with happy ending.

Updike and Sarvente (separate) with S/O upset over bad Christmas

Updike:

You were probably already getting tired by now, and so was Updike. The clock said it was past nine PM, and it was finally time for Updike to get his things together and leave after another long shift on Christmas. But he didn't see it as any sort of setback for his personal life. Since Boxing Day is on Sunday, he can take a short break to spend time with you.

Right as Updike put his phone back in his pocket, he took it out again; he remembered something. You always called him at some point when it was a holiday, wishing him well and saying general sweet words, but not today. But it wasn't surprising you forgot, you were out to spend the day with your parents--along side a dinner shared with the rest of your family.

You were going to stay there overnight, he may as well phone you instead before you sleep. After dialing, the call was almost dropped automatically before you answered on the last second.

"Hello," you said. It sounded like you didn't even check to see who called, since you would normally say "hey" and his name when he called. And there's another thing he picked up on as well: you sounded off, something more than being tired. Sick, maybe? But if you were, he's sure you'd tell him without asking.

"Hello, (Y/N), you didn't call earlier, and I wanted to know how you are doing."

"Fine," you say in a tone that easily exposed your lie, "I was kind of in my old bedroom for most of the time, anyways."

"(Y/N), you don't sound like you're 'fine'," his tone now becoming more serious. Then, to make things more dodgy, you began to speak more quietly. "I just didn't feel that safe out there with the family drama going on, that's all."

You didn't say you weren't feeling good, or you were uncomfortable, but you weren't feeling "safe"? But there wasn't time to ask more questions, because you clearly wanted the conversation to end.

"It's fine, I'll be back in the morning. Love you."

"Love you, too." And that's why he's not letting you stay there for much longer.

~~~

Your anxiety was finally wearing off somewhat, and you maybe could've gotten some sleep, but no, the few relatives that still lingered about the house are yelling again. Now it was starting to get annoying, too, and you had to try and tune them out again. However, you can't tune out an argument when you suddenly hear them scream your name.

Panic took over, what were you supposed to do? Just unlock the door and face hell? But just standing there could make them more angry. In your contemplation, you listened in closer to the door. And there was a bit of hope, and immense shock, when you heard Updike among the yelling. You kept thinking that he didn't have to, especially since his arrival may be more harmful.

However, being that Updike can give people quite the talk-down, you did get the little amount of confidence you needed to slowly crack open the door and walk down to the living room. Maybe you could help him talk it out... No, not that simple in this family. You could only hope for the best now.

Peaking into the living room, Updike noticed you as quickly as you did him. You never seen his hair so dark before he literally lightened up at the sight of you. There wasn't time, now, he was taking you out. "We need to go, come on," he said, grabbing your hand and almost running out the door. "What, I don't even have my phone!" you nearly stutter, no longer paying mind to the swears coming from behind.

"It'll be fine, you need to come home, now." Seeing that you didn't even have your shoes on you, he picked you as well. He was rushing, but he put you in the passenger seat of his car as gently as possible. Even when Updike got in himself, he didn't bother to pause for a breath, he simply started the car and drove as soon as he could. You kept quiet the whole drive, still shaking in some shock, and he decided it was best for him to also stay silent until you two were home.

~~~

"... Do you want any tea?" Updike softly asked, guiding you to the couch.

"Uh, chamomile?" you speak up for the first time in a while. "I'll be right back, dear," he pats your head before leaving. Finally, even without your things, you could actually calm down. And it's about time, too, it's only an hour before midnight. Good thing it's the weekend.

For the next few minutes, you kept thinking about what had happened earlier. Your mind was currently a mess of memories without chronological order. And you didn't snap out until, in which only felt like a minute, Updike came back with a cup of tea. When you took the cup and saucer, he sat right next to you, rubbing your back.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better. Thanks, Gabriel."

It was quiet again, and you didn't see Updike was sort of studying your face as you sipped away. You seemed to be holding some emotions back.

"(Y/N)?"

"Yeah?"

"It's okay to cry, if you need to."

... You needed to hear that.

Sarvente:

You sworn you heard a window get smashed earlier, but you didn't want to leave your room to check; using the bathroom was the only thing you would leave to do. Still, what if that one damn relative found a reason to yell at you the few minutes you left. "But we're a family!" you could already imagine them saying. But family issues don't just work themselves out like a Disney movie.

It was a bit early to sleep, but it was night and the lights were off (to ward off any attention). Plus, sleeping means this mini hell will be over sooner. You were already in bed, so once you pulled the blanket over, you slowly began drifting off. Or that's what you planned until the window in your room started opening.

You immediately sat up, scared, but not knowing what to do. But you sort of calmed down when you recognised the silhouette of an ushanka. It was Ruv, and he looked around briefly before whispering, "why haven't you been to services?"

Crap, you forgot about church! Sarvente must've sent Ruv out to get you. "Ruv, I'm sorry, I--" "Hush, explain it to Sarv," Ruv interrupts, minding the fact your family was still here. He better make it quick before they catch him practically kidnapping you. "Last service in an hour," he says, scooping you out of bed and gong back out the window.

"Hold on, I gotta get dressed!" you whisper yell to him. If the last service is in an hour, than you certainly have time to get changed before then. "She made you an outfit, now shut," he orders. Fine, you kept your mouth shut. But you were still anxious. Family was already off the rails, and now you felt paranoid your girlfriend may yell at you, too.

~~~

"Ruv, are they here?" Sarvente instinctively shouts, from the room she was organising your outfit in, upon hearing the large front doors. She takes a peak into the main room, running over once she caught glimpse of you. Despite your fears, she happily picks you off the ground in an embrace. "Oooohh, bless this holy night!" she said in a sing song tone while squeezing you. "Your skin is freezing. Ruv, I find it sinful you didn't at least share your jacket!" Ruv responds in an uninterested shrug before walking off. You're not his partner.

"Well, sorry I didn't come earlier Sarv, I kind of--"

"Oh, it's fine, dear! Going to church at night does have a nice feel to it."

"No, it's because I had a bad day and forgot," you correct. Sarv's face showed shock; you never just forget to go to church! And how could you be having a bad day when celebrating one of the greatest miracles? "Did you at least remember to eat? You look more thin than usual."

"I did, but I was too scared to go to the kitchen," you mutter. Maybe you were really worried about her worrying too much. You try not to get her involved in your problems, since she can be quite the mom-girlfriend.

"Family problems?" she asked.

"How did you know?"

She sighs, "I see it all the time, every Easter and Christmas. I see so many disarray families that crowd together in a pew just because they think they have to. But if my church isn't a refuge from struggle, then I need to do something. Now," she pecks you on the forehead, "I made a big dinner earlier, and you can have as much as you want. I also made you a cute church outfit as a gift. And during service, I can sit you next to this lovely elderly couple that always goes to evening services. And then..."

"I'm sorry, just a bit of." You wiped your eyes. She really is such a sweetheart. "Are you crying?" You didn't answer, but it was obvious anyways. "I'm happy I got to be with you," you explain. "Sweety," she puts another kiss on your face, "you can always come here. You can even stay, and we would share my bed every night."

You actually smile for once. "Thanks, I think I'll consider that."

#fnf x reader #fnf imagines #updike x reader #sarvente x reader

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fnf-amateur-writing · 2 years

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can I get Ruv, sarvente, Hex, and their S/O buying flowers for their mother because it's her birthday. But then they're confused why are they heading to the cemetery and they learned the saddest, heart breaking truth that they lost their mother (and maybe try to comfort them as they fight back tears)

Thanks for the request, I need some other characters to cover, so Mr. Fluffy is going to the time out corner now.

But I might just go back to writing a couple more of Updike after this...

Also, happy holidays. Santa better have gotten you guys a big train set.

Ruv, Sarvente, Hex, and S/O who is bringing flowers to their mother's grave

Ruvyzvat:

He doesn't bother with questions or any useless sentences along the way. Throughout the many minutes you walked, he only said "Let's go." right before after he helped you pick out a bouquet.

Though the two of you are dating, he doesn't pick up on your emotions well. But if he did, he could tell you weren't as excited as one should be for this occasion.

But as you lead him to the local cemetery, he kind of wanted to say something. Maybe an "Oh damn," but that wouldn't be appropriate. And it was kind of obvious anyways why you were here.

As you gently laid the flowers on the tomb, Ruv realised that perhaps he wanted to do something rather than say something, but what?

He wasn't all that religious, but he remembers what Sarvente would often say during services: Pray for the dead, and comfort the mourning. Once again, not religious, so praying was right out. But comforting might work.

While you looked down, lost in thought, Ruv suddenly yet slowly gave you what he saw as possibly the most awkward hug ever. Whatever, as long as it's working. It's working, right?

"Thanks, Ruv," you say, leaning into his touch.

Okay, it's working.

Sarvente:

It was a bit painful to listen to what Sarvente had to say on the way there. She would talk about how lucky you are to have a mother. Being a direct creation of God, she never got to know what it was like. But it was at least nice to hear about how lovely of a child you are, bringing flowers to honour your mother.

Before you could see the cemetery, however, she could sense it. Being a supernatural being, she could feel a sort of spiritual vibe coming from nearby. Now noticing your face, she now realised those flowers were not going to be left in a vase of water.

"(Y/N), do you have something you need to tell me?" she said once the cemetery was in front of the two of you. You tensed a bit, but you didn't want to leave her without some sort of answer.

"I think you already know."

"I see..."

You kept silent the rest of the way, her not telling you that she's already planning a service in your mother's honour. But then she heard you sniffle.

"Oh, (Y/N) dear." She knelt down to gently hug you, but then sensed something else.

"(Y/N), I can see her," she said. This makes you jolt and look up at her. "You can?"

"Yes," she assures, "and she wishes for me to do something on her behalf.

"What?"

Raising an arm, she lifts a finger up and gently taps on your nose.

"Boop."

Hex:

You kind of regret taking Hex with you, or even mentioning what you were doing. He kept going on and on about how excited he was to meet her. Then you felt worse when he compared her to Rich Guy, who Hex saw as a parental figure as well.

"And since you probably already got her a cake, I could bake her my famous banana bread in--" Wait, why did he stop?

What you didn't know was that Hex has an emotion scanning software that's always on. No happiness was detected. He as about to speak up again, until you stopped him.

"I'm sorry, but can you just not talk? I'm not in the mood."

"Okay," he sadly says, sort of dreading what was really going on.

Hex's first assumptions was that she may have been severely ill, but his GPS says the nearest hospital would take at least a two hour walk. But, also according to the GPS, they're approaching a... Oh.

Reading your expressions again, your levels of sadness have only increased as well as a notable amount of annoyance. So as a a change in plans, he decides to wait for a minute before trying to talk again. When you laid the flowers down, you no longer appeared annoyed, so Hex decided to talk again.

But it only spiked your annoyance again as he spoke his best motivational words. This time, Hex was too lost in his own confidence to stop himself.

"I've lost my first friend, and I know for certain that everything gets better eventually." He won't shut up. "All it really takes is a song and a round of basketball to perk u--"

"Stop, Hex!" you snap at him with tears streaming down. "I can't click with your optimism right now! Just..." you couldn't finish as you started crying, too blurry to see anything.

Hex was secretly scrolling through several web pages of info about loss and mourning, desperate to figure out how to fix this. But after a couple of seconds, coming to the conclusion that he just needed to be there, he stopped. Words clearly weren't working.

"Sorry, I just..." you try to speak. Hex slowly goes in for a hug, making sure you don't flinch or otherwise show signs of rejection before fully embracing you. It wasn't comfortable, but you rested your head on his shoulder. "Sorry I yelled at you, it's just too stressful," you finally manage.

"It's okay," Hex replies, patting your head. You look up at him, "are you still going to make that banana bread?"

"Of course."

#fnf x reader #fnf imagines #hex x reader #sarvente x reader #ruv x reader #fnf headcanons

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fnf-amateur-writing · 2 years

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Could I have Updike with a reader who has a pastel-like style but is a menace at fights? Like they’re a martial arts expert and is good at guns? You can um decline it if you want, thanks! ☕️Anon

Alright, I got this... Googles emoji name... Hot Beverage Anon!

Don't have anything to say, other than I may or may not be working on a non-request that's a yandere Updike. Idk, I like yanderes, but I haven't any requests for them yet. And with these Updike requests, I gotta have at least one yandere to spice things up.

May Santa bring you a bloody massive Thomas and Friends train set.

TW: Mild depictions of violence.

Updike and a pastel aesthetic S/O who's good at fighting

Normally, he keeps his love life to himself. But to the few he tells about you, they are rather surprised. Updike just seems too classy to date someone of your fashion sense. But he grew to love it as a part of you. Just because you had the style of a little girl didn't mean you acted like one.

To be honest, if he wasn't so conditioned in being as mature as possible, he would probably willingly try that style, too.

And willingly as in without you making him try it yourself.

One day, out of the blue, you got him a light blue sweater with a pink heart on it. And of course he would wear a cute sweater his partner got him, but it wasn't until you got him some more pastel clothing that he realised what you were up to.

"Just so you know, I'm not wearing this out of the house," he comments.

"Okay, okay. But you just look too formal sometimes. And your hair..."

"What?"

Gosh, with soft and fluffy hair like his, you can't resist doing something to it. And with the privilege of being the only one who can touch it, you would put in little bows and charms. He would be reading on a sofa, while you stood behind, experimenting with different styles.

If he were ever okay with it, you would totally dye his hair a light pink.

But just make sure to never mess with his hair before work, he would remind you. He gets paranoid about public image, with his job making him quite the controversial figure. He fears being seen with the accessories would make him seen as a "softie".

It wouldn't take long until he learned why you chuckled at that word choice.

On a nightly walk together, some street thug appeared with a gun in hand. Updike is never without his gun, and expected it to end with the man learning never to mess with him. But it ended up more of the thug learning not to mess with you.

Before he could even train his gun, he heard two thuds; you had already got him to drop the gun, as well as pinned him to the ground. "Okay," was all Updike could muster under his breath before phoning the police.

On the way back home, he finally spoke up.

"How did you do that?"

"Just kind of tackled him, I guess. I've been a black belt since I was a kid."

"And you never told me? Still, you could've gotten hurt."

"Never thought about telling you. Besides, moron left the safety on."

"You could tell?"

Anyways, it didn't take long before he saw it as another part of you. And at times, he felt a sort of envy that he wasn't that physically capable. Taking down monsters would've been much easier if he could.

But it was apparent you thought about it, too, when you suggested you help him at TGG. But he immediately turned down your suggestion. He understands, you want to support his efforts, and you could easily qualify to work as one of the monster hunters, but it was still dangerous. He refuses to let himself be attached to an employee, in case of the emotional pain that may follow, let alone allow someone close to him to join.

But while you weren't offended by his refusal, you still wanted to help. You two quickly settled on a compromise: You could teach him the skills you learned.

Whether or not teaching was a strong suit for you, he did eventually pick up on your methods. At some point, he even noticed an improvement during work. For guns, you took him to your favourite range, and you both made room at home for you to teach him physical combat.

But even when you two had a little sparing match, you were just too in love to take it seriously enough. You would hear his rare laugh as you ended up cuddling on the floor. Even with your abilities, your soft style softened him up in turn.

And at the end of each day, anyone could tell whose side of the bed was whose just by which nightstand had the Hello Kitty plush.

It was his nightstand, you gave it to him.

#fnf x reader #fnf imagines #fnf headcanons #updike x reader #fnf updike

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fnf-amateur-writing · 2 years

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woah that Updike story was so cool! 😍 Can I request him who has an s/o with supernatural powers? it can be anything you want, I just honestly wanna see the tea they be spilling-

Welp, it's finally here.

Other than general laziness, the other reason this took so long was because I had the general idea down, but I just couldn't quite figure how I wanted everything to actually go down. But i did it.

For this fic, I decided to make the reader's powers dangerous. I find it way more interesting than something mild.

TW: Mentions of mass death, euthanasia, language, and plenty of angst.

Updike with S/O who has powers

No expert, interview, investigation, or wild conspiracy could even begin to explain how a sturdy university structure with no evidence of explosives or tampering could collapse and kill over a hundred. But after a few years, Updike had finally begun to take special interest in the case. He had already gathered some of the best minds in TGG to spend a couple of weeks gathering every scrap of info. Eventually, he came out to you about his plans over dinner.

He didn't understand your reaction at all; you were only panicked by that revelation. You only gave the vague explanation of "You don't need to do this." But that's okay, as a survivor of that event, he knew you were still traumatised. And if the mystery was finally solved, not only will he earn more of your affections, but the public may stop seeing him as a morally grey anti-hero.

~~~

It was you. You destroyed the building. You killed all those people. And now your own boyfriend and his team are on your trail. It didn't feel that long ago when he would tell you those stories of how even a sliver of information was able to help his task force track down an anomaly. And when it came to anomalies that pose as much danger as you do, they are often shot on sight and left to bleed out before disposing of their bodies like trash.

And the stress was causing you to do it once again. Over your plate of eggs, the fork started desegregating in your hand. It started to bend, as if heated to melting point, until parts of it fell off. There goes your breakfast. Not like you had much of an appetite anyways.

You dubbed this curse of yours "entropy hands". Whenever this happened, you would clasp your hands together and find somewhere to sit or lie down. Once you calmed down, you could continue the day as normal. Knowing about the anomalies he dealt with, it wasn't uncommon for an anomaly's powers to be triggered when stressed.

And stress was how the incident was as bad as it was. Actually, it was more than stress, it was full blown rage then. You had the misfortune of being classmates with "that girl". You know, the real life mean girl who's only accepted because her daddy made big donations to the school. You were a top student, studying for your last exams before graduation, and it's as though you were living up to the expectations she was given.

So, as you desperately wrestled her over the notebook with all the notes you carefully took during lectures, you may have been touching the walls a second too long as you managed to pin her to a wall to retrieve your work. All you had to do was peacefully report her and continue hating her, but you brutally killed her and so many others and hate yourself.

Before blacking out, the last of what you saw and felt was wall caving in from where your hand was. Once you were finished coughing your lungs out from the dust, you were called a "miracle". Apparently, you were immune to your own powers; everyone else round in the rubble around you were either dead or dying, but you were left wishing you died, too.

And there's another problem: You still love Updike--a lot. You could just run away and live off the grid, but you could never bear to leave him. But you're not sure if he would feel the same if he finds out. On second thought, it really feels like when he finds out.

~~~

The beginning of the investigation was as dull as sifting through a thousand piece puzzle for the edges, but it's over; they can now do some real investigating.

While checking his emails, Updike found the list of names and addresses of those who would be interviewed. It had the names of every student and faculty member who was around, along with some of the friends and family of the deceased. They were sorted by who would most likely have useful information, which made it no surprise when your name was one of the first listed. But as Updike read through the list and assigned himself and other members people they must interview, he never once suspected you.

Despite it technically being a breach of conduct, Updike assigned himself to you. He was well aware of the term, "conflict of interest", but he mentally excused himself. It would be best you be questioned by someone you were already comfortable with, especially since he would better comfort you through the mental wounds that seemed to be already opening up. And on top of that, he hates having anyone at work knowing about his private life and didn't want you to spill that the two of you are dating.

After sending his team their assigned names, he closed the laptop. On his face held a calm, but blissful little smile. Something he would only have while alone while working, when feeling particularly good about the work he would accomplish.

Too many times, he put down anomalies who lived through troubled and pathetic lives, only to die begging for mercy. He hated those, but this would be different. There surely wasn't a reason to feel sympathy for the one who caused the destruction.

And the interviews wouldn't be the only helpful thing. The area of the university that was destroyed had essential surveillance equipment. But when one of the nerdiest guys on the team specialises in anything data recovery related, it's not a lost cause just yet.

~~~

There you were, hands together again while your restless leg shook up and down, on the sofa with your phone. Like handling a pot full of boiling water, you carefully unlocked the phone to see what Updike had texted you. With anxiety going through the roof, it wasn't as bad as you were expecting. It was just him letting you know that he needed to ask some questions about what happened.

After a few minutes, you managed an "Okay" for a response before putting the phone aside. For a text so simple, it was mental and physical hell to write. And looking down at your shaking leg, you thought about going out for a walk. Sitting still wasn't much help, and it was nice outside. Hopefully it will stay nice after you got ready.

~~~

Crap, the work phone was ringing. It's number was the only way to contact Updike directly within the organisation, and its ringing usually meant that hell was breaking loose somewhere. But due to how stressful the nature of the job is, it rung quite frequently--almost nothing that could happen was a surprise anymore.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Updike, we have found the culprit!"

"Already?" This actually was somewhat surprising.

"Yes, sir. We just sent you the footage of them collapsing the building. And we have also found their current location and need your approval to terminate."

"At least state their name, please."

"(Y/N) (L/N)."

...

God. Fucking. Damn it.

At least he was disciplined to not show unwanted emotions in situations like this. With a voice more monotone than he had ever managed before, he told them to wait for his arrival before hanging up. He reached for his silver gun, with the shaking of his hands reminding him how close he was to breaking down. But he had to think of something that could even remotely remedy the situation. But how can he think when all he can imagine is how much more scared you are.

~~~

They should be in this alleyway, right here. It was procedure to apprehend anomalies away from the public eye, so they must've dragged you into it to keep a scene from being caused.

After making one turn in the alley, he saw you with your sore arms raised high. Three of his men surrounded you with guns ready to fire at a single word.

Updike pulled out his own gun to aim at you. This certainly scared you more, but if it makes it look like you two are strangers to his employees, then so be it.

"Guns down; you are dismissed. I'll take it from here," Updike commanded. In seconds, the men were far from the alley, and Updike had lowered his gun once no one else could see. But you never lowered your hands, and you didn't want to either.

"(Y/N)," he called out, almost sounding like he was about to cry. "I can't put them down, Gabriel," you shakily muttered. "If I do, then I might destroy something with them again."

A pause. A long pause, as you waited for him to raise his gun again. "Just do it, please," you spoke. "I've been so damn scared of dying because of this, but now I don't care."

"(Y/N), it wasn't your fault any of that happened. It's okay--"

"It's not!" you yelled. "You've killed those who couldn't control themselves before. Just kill me and be done with it!"

"(Y/N)..."

Updike put the gun away in his holster, and reached into his pocket as he slowly approached you. You couldn't think of what he might be doing, so you slightly jumped when he hugged you. You didn't put your arms down, but you did let yourself cry. You almost didn't notice the prick in your back, and passed out the moment you did.

He allowed the tranquilizer dart to fall to the ground, gently carrying you until you could be taken back to the headquarters.

~~~

Most of everyone has gone home by then, with the few staff being night workers. The lack of people allowed Updike to sit alone with you in the infirmary, like he has for the past few hours. On a table next to your bed, a needle with liquid still waiting to be used. You looked so peaceful, now that you were asleep. But it was only a matter of time before you woke up, and Updike was still contemplating. He had to kill you, and now was the optimal time to do that. It's best if you go out peacefully.

But throughout those hours, he kept reminding himself how much he would miss you. You're the only one outside of his job that gives him meaning. His life might as well be linked to yours.

He couldn't, he loved you to much. He threw out the needle and wrote you off as deceased. The rest may call him a traitor if they knew, but he doesn't care about anything but you. It would be a difficult situation to get used to, but he still has you.

#fnf x reader #fnf imagines #updike x reader #fnf updike

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fnf-amateur-writing · 3 years

Text

Not a oneshot, just a weird question.

Btw, if you’re one of my followers and this doesn’t interest you, go to the end. I will reveal a teaser for the plot of the next oneshot I’m currently working on.

So, question regarding FNF ships: Where the hell did the Updike x Carol come from so unexpectedly?

Like, this ship came out of nowhere like a week ago. And ever since then, It’s EVERYWHERE. Not that I dislike the ship, I’m just confused.

And to confuffleduckle me more, even sock.clip made a post on Insta appearing to reference the ship. I would think they would hate each other in canon, so this can’t be canon? Or is it?

That’s pretty much the end of it. If you’re one of my followers waiting for a new oneshot, here’s the plot for it down below.

#fnf updike #fnf carol #uprol #updike

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fnf-amateur-writing · 3 years

Note

Hi I’m new to your page

I was wondering if you could do pico x reader marriage head canons?

Thanks

I've kinda been procrastinating lately, but here we go! I think a headcanon would be easier to get me back in the writing mood.

Also, I see that everyone on my blog is either a Pico or Updike simp, lol. Even the other two requests I have after this doesn't stray from those two.

Not to judge anyone, but just an oddity I wanted to point out.

Pico and S/O marriage headcanons

Pico always knows what to do in confrontations, asserting himself whenever he needed to. But when he thought of proposing, he just chickens out.

So after inviting him to some rap battles on the top of a building, overlooking the night sky, you were the one to surprise him as you knelt down and proposed.

And of course, he said yes.

The next day, he called up his old pals Nene and Darnell to deliver the news. And after a week, he even made contact with his cousin Otis despite him being rather estranged from his family.

But as the time neared for the wedding day, it hit him as to why he didn't propose: Being married felt like something mature adults do, and he still felt like an angsty teenager. And the whole killing people for money thing didn't help either. Aren't husbands supposed to have normal jobs?

Oh god, and what if you wanted to raise a kid? He would be setting a terrible example for them!

Once again, he just couldn't confront you about it, so he called his friends again. They told him to just focus on the wedding, his worries can wait afterwards, else it would spoil the mood. Sure, logical, but Pico felt unease.

But he managed to pull himself together, and even forget about it, when wedding day finally arrived. It was a small and simple, yet beautiful affair. Pico didn't have that many to invite, so most of the guests were your family and friends.

During the reception, you both had many conversations with each other's folks. Pico's friends were joking how you managed to tame a beast, being that they know about Pico's doings, while Pico was stressed over your friends telling him to take good care of you.

At night, when everything was over with, you confronted him about something you were told about him.

"So, I heard you want to quit your job."

Man, did those two snitch on him? He'll have to get them for that later.

"Well, I mean, yeah. But it's just to hard," he nervously answered.

"Don't you have other skills outside of guns?" you asked.

"That's my problem, I don't! And I can't seem to live without them, yet all I can do with them is end lives!"

Him having a panic attack was not a great way to end the wedding day. But you had a feeling, like there was something he didn't quite consider.

"You know that there are many legal jobs you can have while dealing with guns, right?"

"There are?..."

~~~

A few months later, you have settled in your new life. Pico is enjoying his job as a range officer, you've gotten closer with Pico's old friends while he got closer with your folks, and you even made the leap to purchase a home.

You haven't changed much in terms of how much affection you give Pico, but he's been more affectionate with you. It's like giving up his old job took a weight of his shoulders, like it made him feel guilty, and he is paying back for your help.

If you consider having kids, Pico would be a bit overboard with preparations. He would research schools, local parks, safety plugs for the outlets, how to keep guns away from kids, everything.

"Pico, I only said having a kid might be nice. I'm not sure yet!"

"Yes, but what if we do have one! What material would I crochet the blankets from?"

"You can crochet?"

"No, but I can learn!"

So through matrimony, you have turned Pico from a killer with a soft spot for his lover to a reformed and devoted husband that'll go overboard in making sure his hypothetical child grows up well.

#fnf x reader #fnf imagines #pico x reader #fnf pico #fnf headcanons

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fnf-amateur-writing · 3 years

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Anon List

I don’t require my Anons to have a nickname, but here’s a list of the Anons I have so far with a nickname so people know which are taken:

Fox Anon 🦊

Egg Anon 🥚

Hot Beverage Anon ☕️

#anon list

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fnf-amateur-writing · 3 years

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Could I request a boyfriend, Pico, and Girlfriend(poly or separate) with a s/o that loves physical affection.

I'm very touched starved-

🥚 anon

Hey Egg Anon, I'm touched starved too tbh, lol. Guess that's why x readers are such a coping mechanism for me.

I decided to do headcanons for the characters separately for this one. Hope you like it!

Boyfriend, Girlfriend, and Pico (separate) with touched starved S/O headcanons

Boyfriend:

When he found out about your desire for physical affection, he had an idea: what if he carried you around in public, so you don't have to wait until at home to snuggle. It sounded a bit strange, but you loved the idea.

But he looks a bit short to be carrying anyone past a five year old child. Maybe he was joking?

You're assumptions were wrong in the best possible way. This kid must've eaten protein powder for breakfast, because there was a lot more muscle in him than you thought.

And he would happily carry you out in public as he had offered, showing you off around the mall while you held a drink with two straws to share.

Some clearly salty guy would then accuse Boyfriend of being a show off carrying his partner and looking all lovey dovey, when it was really just him spending time with you in a way you both liked.

Don't worry, he would never let go of you to throw punches. Instead, in his usual beep bop style, he challenged the guy to a rap battle. Some passerbys started to watch in interest.

And it was then you learned that he could not only carry you, but carry you while singing. The guy soon stormed off, humiliated, after another successful rap battle from your favourite little cyan haired hero.

And outside of carrying you, you two like to put on a movie while snuggling in bed. However, you would be too relaxed to stay awake and could never remember what happened in the movie.

And if you can sing too, you could sing like Skid and Pump does and Boyfriend could carry you while you sing a duet against your opponent.

So when it comes to wanting physical affection, you are lucky to have someone like Boyfriend.

Girlfriend:

You are blessed.

She's the squishy and curvy girl people dream of. She pats your head, as you use her as a pillow, whispering sweet little nothings until you sleep.

Remember to check your face before going out, because you never know if there is another lipstick marking from her kisses after a cuddle session.

And she finds it amusing how much you enjoy the squishiness of her body, allowing you to give her surprise hugs when you want, being that most women would be judged for such a thing.

But this woman is still a demon.

One day, she's down to snuggle and no questions are asked. But the next, she's teasing your neediness.

"Not so fast," she would say as she held you away from her with her hand on your head. "I wanna see you earn it this time."

She wants her partners to have skill in rapping, and if you haven't shown any in a while or if she feels like she wants to hear you sing, then she'll say you can't cuddle until you find a tall bad boy to rap against.

She's joking there, since the tall bad boy rappers are almost never worth the trauma of facing, but she still wants you to find someone.

And once you do and beat them in a rap, she would get off her speakers and give you the affection you've been craving. And yes, she'll do it even if it embarrasses you in front of those watching. It's what you wanted, right?

Pico:

It's been a long time since he has dated Boyfriend, and he hasn't had much physical affection since then. With his paranoia and murderous tendencies, it seems he has forgotten how nice a simple hug can feel.

Not long into the relationship, you got physical for the first time and gave him a surprise hug from behind.

But this didn't end too well, with him panicking and asking you who broke into the house.

"No, nothing's wrong!"

"Then what is it!?" he nearly screamed with his Uzis pointed in different directions.

"I just wanted a hug."

"Oh... Okay?"

For a while, you felt bad for how much you gave him hugs and cuddles. He was interpreting being embraced as you needing his protection from someone. But don't worry, he eventually got used to it, and even started to enjoy it.

On second thought, Pico actually missed the affection he used to get from Boyfriend. Maybe he was a bit like you; he just needed you to crack that shell of his.

So now, you two are almost always embracing. You would do so watching TV, sleeping, playing games, and when Pico would hold on behind you in the kitchen out of a constant fear of you falling while opening the oven. Depending on who's bigger, one of you would often sit in the other's lap.

But even when it's not the time, like in public, you always hold hands. It feels like a constant reminder of your love without the need of words and gifts.

#fnf x reader #fnf imagines #boyfriend x reader #girlfriend x reader #pico x reader #fnf boyfriend #fnf girlfriend #fnf pico #fnf headcanons

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fnf-amateur-writing · 3 years

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Yoo your writing’s pog— umm do you write for the vs eteled mod? the two there are my comfort characters right now—

Sorry, I only write for characters within the list of my pinned post. That's because I want to be pretty familiar with a character before I feel comfortable writing for them.

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fnf-amateur-writing · 3 years

Note

Hello! Can I request a scenario where l Updike with an s/o who got kidnapped and now he has to go save them- if u feel uncomfortable with that you can just do general relationship headcanons for him!

Hey there, Anon. I'm cool with your prompt, no worries!

TW: Kidnapping and violence.

Updike finding out S/O was kidnapped

Everything was rather dull at work. Sure, dealing with anomalies can be cool, but it wears on Updike after a while. Everyday was starting to become nothing more than paperwork, keeping tabs on the freely roaming safer anomalies, and trying and failing to kill Whitmore. Fortunately, his lunch break finally started after a long and boring morning.

Once he readjusted his tie and tucked away his trusty gun in his pocket, he went on a near daily walk to a local cafe. To be honest, it wasn't all that boring, since he now got to be with you during his lunch breaks. About a month ago, you two found out that you took your breaks at the same time. The cafe was also conveniently in between your workplaces, allowing you to walk an equal distance.

Without any incidents or that pestering metal head, Updike made his last turn, with the cafe now being just two buildings down. Strangely, the police were also two buildings down, talking to an employee that Updike recognised in front of the prematurely closed cafe. Avoiding involvement, Updike quickly turned around, waiting until he out of sight of them before checking his phone. You were always there first, so you probably texted him a heads up, but his phone showed no new messages.

It was pretty annoying, but no big deal. He'll just go somewhere else, and maybe you'll be there too if he's lucky.

~~~

The phone next to him rings, whilst Updike sat alone in his office, showing the front desk receptionist's name. That was rather unusual; that number almost never calls him directly, so it was probably important enough to be an exception. "Updike speaking," he spoke in his monotone voice, which was in a tone that easily showed how he says that a dozen times a day.

"Mr. Updike, the police are requesting your presence outside."

Okay, now that was very unusual. Not that the police are here, they show up all the time whenever a case involves an anomaly. But for them to make him go outside, when they usually go up to see him or a collegue, was odd. And he had a clean record too, so it's not like they were going to arrest him.

"I'll be right there," he said. He felt somewhat stressed from the sudden request, so he went a faster pace to the lift--to which he almost pressed the wrong button. He and a cop quickly made eye contact the moment the lift opened, and he followed the man as he beckoned him outside.

"Now, I know you're busy, so I'll get right to the point," the officer says, pulling a phone from his pocket. "Do you recognise this phone and the owner of it?" Updike wish he could say no, but he couldn't; it was clearly your phone, except it now has a large crack on the screen. "Yes, it belongs to my partner. Their name is (Y/N) (L/N)." As clear as he made those sentences, his throat was sore from the dread.

"Sir, are you aware that they've been kidnapped."

... No.

~~~

Looking back at it, he wasn't sure how he kept calm the whole time as the police explained what had happened. Some man had taken you right in front of the cafe. It happened so quickly, that the witnesses didn't seem to notice anything wrong until it was too late. They contacted him when told by employees that he always sat at the same table as you.

As he rushed home, he didn't quite know what he felt. It was a mixture of sadness, anger, stress, and whatever the hell else that couldn't be named that made his hair grey. But he wasn't going home just to wait in misery until the police did something; he was going to look for some clues, as recommended by the authorities. He wasn't aware of any troubles you may have wih your family and friends, but he was informed that most kidnappings are done by people the victim knows, so he had to snoop around your stuff to see if he could find anything to report.

However, he almost slammed himself into his own front door when something else caught his attention: a plain white envelope taped to the door. There was no markings or writing on the outside, Updike noted as he took it for inspection, but he could tell it had a letter in it. Surely, it couldn't be a coincidence this showed up the same day you were taken.

As he went inside, closing the door behind him, he didn't take another step away from the door before tearing the letter open. Within the envelope was a typed letter, which had a clear message despite never mentioning you or Updike by name. Also made clear was that this was nobody you knew, nor was it an anomaly trying to spite him, but rather a particularly greedy criminal who took notice of who you were with.

The letter demanded an absurd amount of cash to be hand delivered, an amount that clearly overestimated even his own wealth. And if he brought anyone with him or brought a weapon, then you would be shot on the spot. Finally, he had until midnight to do so, too, adding onto the stress.

The stress started to become a bit much as his hair grew darker. He had no way of knowing whether the bastard was bluffing, but it wasn't worth trying to find out. But still, there didn't seem to be a good way out anyways. It felt like he was about to snap, feeling some sparks from his head and... a spark of an idea.

He went up a flight of stairs to a closet within the hallway. There wasn't anything remarkable about it's contents, but he took interest on one side, where some suitcases of his were stored. Only one of these was useful right now: a sleek metal suitcase he can't remember even using, but he remembered it being there. After grabbing the case, he ran back downstairs while neglecting to close the closet door.

Now, he wasn't going to place any money in it. No, nothing would be in it. But he had an idea, because maybe the guy didn't quite know who they decided to mess with.

~~~

Updike parked his car on the side of the road, getting out in the abandoned yet familiar area. It was a small part of the outskirts of the city that eventually lost it's population and was left to rot, which amazed him that it hasn't been torn down yet. The only people who regularly come here are the homeless and obnoxious teenagers with cameras who pretend that one of the buildings are haunted for internet clout. However, he does remember coming here too a long time ago to hunt down Whitmore a couple times.

The meeting place was a short walk away, having used to be a local library. The evening sky was getting darker by the minute, and the sun was near set behind Updike as he looked into the old library. As dark as it was, a light was barely visible from the entrance, partially blocked by empty bookshelves. With the case in hand, he walked through the shattered glass double doors and in between two of the shelves.

"I'm here."

The light across the library shifted and footsteps approached. The man looked as dodgy as he expected, except with a bit of a 1950's greaser look to him, and the gun the man held never pointed to anything but Updike. He placed the lantern onto the shelve and approached, saying "hand it over." Definitely not a negotiating type.

Time passed too slow, yet also too fast. Though he normally used his head, Updike had to channel what was within him elsewhere or else the man would shoot him seeing the thunder from his head. Hard, sure, but dong it for you was a pretty good motivator.

In three, two...

As soon as both hands were on the case's handle, Updike managed to give a hard zap through his hand. The case's material made it guaranteed it would shock him, and shock him very badly. He shouted at the sensation comparable to that of a taser, unable to pull the trigger before collapsing. Updike wasn't sure if he was conscious, but it didn't matter since he was already slamming the case into his face. Giving a man a free nose bleed such as this one was usually seen as too barbaric for Updike's taste, but damn it was satisfying.

He took the man's gun and briefly searched his pockets for anything else he might use as a weapon. He pocketed the lighter for the box of cigarettes he carried, since he might wake up and pull a fast one by burning the place down. And then there was a key, and not a usual key one would think of. In fact, Updike knew from the shape that it was meant to unlock a pair of handcuffs. It may be best if he took that as well.

"(Y/N)!" he called out, "are you there?" He made his way to the back, peeking into some rooms as he passed. He heard some sounds coming from nearby, causing him to peek through the old bathroom door. There you were, gagged with a cloth and both hands cuffed to a pipe beneath a sink. You were trying to say something, so he quickly worked the cloth off your mouth and let it fall under your chin. Upon closer inspection he now saw how disheveled you looked and that one of your eyes was black and swollen.

"G-GABRIEL!" you finally managed to scream before coughing from finally having your mouth to breathe through. "I thought you- I thought..." He hushed you before using the key he found on your cuffs, allowing you give him a much needed embrace. "Shhh, it's okay," he said as you cried, "I've dealt with him."

"Now," he picks you off the ground and carries you away from the dreaded building, "let's go. I have an interesting story for the cops."

Now for a surprise bonus ;)

Aftermath headcanons:

Unsurprisingly, you both took off work for a while.

Regardless of how well you can handle trauma, Updike WILL take you to a therapist. He's already got one booked, so you don't have a choice really.

For the first time in the relationship, Updike has been the one to initiate cuddles. He's also just as paranoid as you are, and has become somewhat clingy as a result.

When it was nearing the day you two would return to work, you discussed plans on preventing another incident. Though it may seem a bit far, you agreed on wearing a small tracking device clipped to your clothes until the fear wore off.

The forced therapy sessions did come with benefits for the future. When you eventually had to testify against your kidnapper in court, you felt more confident in your words and managed to tell them everything without a breakdown.

The man didn't stand a chance and earned himself several years in prison.

Finally, once you felt everything was behind you, you walked together to the cafe again. It was a nice cafe and it would be a shame if they stopped visiting.

Some of the regulars and employees recognised you two, and welcomed you back. And as you two sat in your usual spots with drinks on the house, you could finally say it was a pretty nice day with nothing to worry about.

#fnf x reader #fnf imagines #updike x reader #gabriel updike #fnf updike

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fnf-amateur-writing · 3 years

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Hey! It’s Fox again! How are you doing? I just started school back up today, so I’ve been busy Xp.

Think you would be cool with writing some Pico with an s/o who is a writer, and tends to ask him about things like “hey, how long does it take someone to bleed out” or other things like that?

I understand if you don’t feel like it, and I hope you’re having fun 😊

🦊

Hello again Fox, I'm doing quite well rn. I'm cool with your prompt, especially since I need more writing material anyways.

Took me a while, because I didn't want to do a hc, but rather come up with a oneshot with a little twist to the style. Well, hope it works well.

Good luck with school, mate!

TW: Mentions of violence, swearing, slight sexual reference, and crime.

Pico with a writer S/O who asks him strange questions

Prologue:

On a chilly autumn morning, you were sitting out on your patio with a laptop and a mug of your favourite beverage next to you. Whenever you looked up, you could see the warm coloured leaves fall as the breeze accompanied you. The whole scene was an aesthetic.

When your boyfriend, Pico, came outside to see this, he knew that the nice environment you surrounded yourself with meant one thing. "You're back in your writing space already. Heh, with that bestseller you published, I thought you were comfy taking a break." You simply smiled and said, "can't waste the inspiration rush I got right now."

Pico had a good point though, with your rising popularity as an author, you were near set to retire before turning fourty. But you wish you weren't given all of the credit, since your boyfriend's stories of his dodgy job has occasionally sparked some ideas for your stories. However the books you wrote in the past were usually meant for the young adult and had few mature themes. This time, you thought maybe it's time to garner extra inspiration from those stories.

You were met with some disappointment when you realised that your mug was empty, only a drop entering your mouth. "Here, babe, I'll ya some more," Pico said, taking your mug and walking inside. "Quick question," you stopped him. "Yeah?"

"What would be the best place for a murder cemetery?"

"... What?"

Chapter 1:

"So you're doing some story about the police hunting down a mass murderer?"

"Pretty much."

"And to think you were gonna write Pixar's next script. Aight' I respect that." Pico takes a seat next to you with a refill of your drink placed next to your favourite writing laptop. "Thanks, Pico. But yeah, I want to branch out to something edgier, and I think you can help too."

"Let me show you what I've got so far." You showed him some of your notes in a little notepad document, detailing the story thus far and your current plans for this chapter. "Oh, that's it? Just looks like boring police preparation mainly," Pico commented. "Yeah, it's not much right now. But it'll get juicy later." "And bloody?" "And bloody."

"Welp, I'm gonna head back in," Pico got up, "let me know if you need anything." He head back inside, closing the door, but then opened it almost immediately afterwards. Pico stuck his head out, "by the way, the guy should use some strong alcohol or something to throw off those sniffer dogs."

Chapter 2:

"And then, because they used a silencer, the police don't immediately notice the--"

"Nope! I'm calling bullshit (Y/N)!" Pico had suddenly interrupted your explanation of the scene you were currently working on. "Silencers can help prevent some hearing loss, sure, but they're not magic."

"Alright," you reply, "no silencer, but the killer still has to kill in a way to not get blood on them, so I thought shooting and killing them from a distance would work." "Well, they're alone. Instead, have the guy get shanked in the neck or something, and have the killer use a plastic bag as a glove. It saved my ass one time."

"Woah!" you exclaimed with a giggle, "you used a knife once? What happened to my trigger happy boyfriend, huh? That's pretty sus."

"I forgot to reload the Uzis, alright?"

"What an impostor would say."

Chapter 3:

"What would be the best way to muffle the scream of someone you kidnapped?"

You two were sitting on the couch together watching a show. You didn't have your laptop on you, so Pico didn't expect you to still be thinking about that book. "I can't say from experience, really," he said as he paused the show. "However, shove a rag in their mouth and duct tape it in, and you should be good."

"Thanks Pico, also one more thing." "Yeah?" "What if our killer also wanted to..." God, this one was gonna be awkward, but you had to say it or else no help. "You know, cut off this victim's willy. How would you do that?"

"Wai-wha-uh-ga," Pico started fumbling his words like never before. He stopped, then took a deep breath. "YO, WHAT THE FUCK?!" "It'll make sense in the story later, I promise!" You watch Pico begin to lose it, breaking into laughter. "Ladies, gentlemen, and others," Pico dramatically stood up, pulling a little Showcaster impression and directing his arms towards you, "my famous 'young' adult novelist partner!"

Chapter 4:

It was in the dead of night, but you awoke to Pico on his phone. His vpn was on and Tor was up. As per usual, he was checking up on his little hitman service, where others could request for a certain someone's guts to fly if they paid him a hefty sum first. Though tired, you ound this to be the best time to ask him some more questions.

"Pico, how do those sites work?"

"Oh, you're awake," Pico blankly stated, sleepy too. But he still answered you. "Basically, some anonymous rich guys in the area give me money and a target, then I just do the thing and send a mission accomplished email." "Do they pay you in person?" "Nah, we use always use Bitcoin. It's a lot harder to trace than real money."

"Thanks Pico. Goodnight," you wish him, yawning and going back to sleep. "You too... So this guy is a hit man too?" "Hush. Tomorrow." "Okay." Pico puts his phone away, leaving it on a nightstand. You then spoon the night away, peacefully thinking of murder as you drifted off.

Chapter 5:

On a morning similar to before, you two sat on the patio with your drinks and laptop at the ready. Pico watched rather awkwardly as you typed away, wondering why you haven't entertained him with another question yet.

"You gonna ask anything else?" "What? Oh, nah," you plainly state. Inevitable, sure, but he was kind of saddened. He liked being able to share his messed up wisdom. "So, you're done?" "Almost." You turn to look at him, "want the spoilers?" Pico smiled, "sure thing."

In the novella you and Pico crafted together, the main character is a cop who hunts down a killer. They eventually notice that there would be two murders at a time for unknown reasons. Well, it was unknown until one victim had left up a dark web hit man for hire site. They that the hit man not only kills the target, but the client as a hidden price for the service.

And any request will be fulfilled, according to the hit man's site.

"Do they catch 'em?" Pico asked. "Well, ANY request is granted. So, if our hero were to... hire him to kill himself..."

"No way!"

"He did. They find both of their bodies in his bedroom."

Pico was a bit impressed with the ending you came up with, but then he remembered something. "Why did that guy get his thing cut off?" "Lol, I forgot," you giggled. "He sent a message to the hit man, saying he wishes the target would choke on his dick."

"That's my favourite part."

Epilogue:

After everything was finished up, you sent the book off to your editor. After the initial joy of knowing how the story ended, you saw that Pico was still in thought. "What's up with you?" "Oh nothing, well it's just... I'm probably just biased, being that I'm a bit of a hitman myself, but it's kind of sad to see the guy go."

"Then I should spoil the epilogue I came up with." Rather than being excited, Pico nervously asked, "what's an epilogue?" He didn't get an answer, only you staring at him. "Sorry, school held too many bad memories for me to pay attention."

"Anyways," you continue, "the rest of the police gang did some background checks, and find that our killer was a normal guy with no criminal history."

"Penilian?"

"No. But I did decide to take a more supernatural approach here. Somewhere across the country, another string of double homicides occur and that site is active once more. And the story kind of repeats itself."

"Penilian."

"You joker," you give him a playful little kiss on the cheek, one that definitely caught him off guard. "So is it canon?" Pico smirked. "Nah, just thanking you for being my cute little co-author." "Oh," Pico started, "so we're flirtin' now, huh. Come here babe!" He tackled you onto the ground, giving you several kisses in exchange.

"Actually, I think we call that 'making out'," you chuckle out, flustered. "But that doesn't mean I said stop'!" You pull him in for more, accidentally bonking your heads together rather painfully. "Nice double kill there, (Y/N)."

#fnf x reader #fnf imagines #pico x reader #fnf pico

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fnf-amateur-writing · 3 years

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Okay, so I don't have any requests right now, yet I wanted to write something. This was an Updike prompt I thought of sometime before I made this account, but I couldn't find an open ask box of a user that happened to write for Updike.

I was thinking of making this more angsty, but eh. Maybe if I'm feeling some inspiration, I'll do a version where the reader dies. Anyways, enjoy!

TW: Mild angst and injuries.

Updike accidentally hurting his S/O with his powers

What the hell? You remembered standing at the door, waiting to give Updike a tackle hug once he got home, but you were suddenly awaking in a hospital bed.

Part of your body felt paralyzed and as though the skin of your face and shoulders were burning. And you weren't entirely cognizant either, which caused you to react unreasonably slowly to a clearly zoned out Updike sitting by the bed. His eyes half open and wet while his grey head sprinkled rain.

It seemed as though he had been mindlessly focusing on your left hand, since as you attempted to test out which limbs were still functional, the twitch of your hand brought him back to reality.

You were expecting him to be relieved and happy at your awakening, as he looked as though he thought you would've died. The latter was true, but he began saying countless apologies, each of them just audible enough for you to hear. Despite these apologies, he wasn't expecting forgiveness.

"What?" was the first word you have spoken, causing Updike to freeze. A moment of looking at your bewildered expression told him everything he needed to know.

"Don't you remember? I..." He could lie, say it was some freak accident like tripping on a small spill in the kitchen, but he didn't have the heart to lie to you--it would eat away at him for the rest of his life.

"I hurt you... I lost control of my powers," he finally confesses. It causes the gears in your head to speed up more. He told you about his strange cloud based powers before, and how they seemed to be triggered by his emotions, often causing havoc when he was a child. But due to his calm personality, you never thought he would be capable of letting even a speck of thunder show from his head.

You didn't have the opportunity to say anything, if you could even think of anything to say, because he then gave you all the details.

TGG had just been extremely hopeful that Whitty was about to be captured and killed for good, but a dark skinned girl had jumped in and helped him escape the last second. And this time, they're not even sure if Whitty is in the large city anymore.

Normally your hugs and kisses as he got home would cheer him up, but it ended up doing the opposite, causing him to snap at you while his body turned near black. He was so god damned close to killing Whitmore, he shouted, but he couldn't even finish as he felt a jolt and was blinded by a bright light. The next moment, he saw you on the floor, and he couldn't even tell if you were breathing anymore. It wasn't long before an ambulance showed up and medical personnel were trying to make sure your heart didn't fail on you as he could only watch in silent horror.

After going on that long explanation, he looked down again, closed his eyes, and said not another word. He was ready for you to break up with him any second, and he knew he deserved it.

But with a small struggle, you reached out to him and touched his grey and moist curls (likely wet from the rain). He didn't open his eyes, but he flinched, expecting a well-deserved punch to the face or something. But you sort of rubbed your hand along the top of his head.

"I-it's okay," you muttered. "I kept telling you, you're overdue for a holiday."

He opened his eyes halfway, giving you some nervous eye contact. He seemed to calm down, as his body was noticeably lighter now. "I don't get why you don't hate me." Right after he said that, you told him to hush. "Please, just take a break for a while. You've been letting Whitmore get to you. I'm not angry, but I'm worried about you too."

At this point, he was almost back to his white body. "I don't know what I did to ever deserve you. I'll take a break, I promise."

#fnf x reader #updike x reader #fnf updike #fnf imagines #gabriel updike

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fnf-amateur-writing · 3 years

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Hey, I don’t know if I’m your first anon, but boy howdy, I am one! xp

Do you think you could do the main trio (BF, GF, and Pico) with a ftm S/O who has some severe gender dysphoria and unhealthy behavior because of it? (like, binds their chest way too tightly, uses ace bandages, etc)

If it’s too dark/ not something you’re comfortable with, maybe some reader celebrating spooky month with Skid and Pump instead?

thanks, from 🦊 (fox)

Guess what? You are my first Anon! Congrats Fox!

I decided to do a poly relationship with a oneshot, so I hope that's okay with you.

TW: Dysphoria, unhealthy behaviour, some angst, swearing, and use of the “q-word” (It’s not used negatively).

BF, GF, and Pico (poly) x ftm S/O who harms himself out of dysphoria

You came out as a trans man to your partners, Boyfriend, Girlfriend, and Pico, almost as soon as you realised it. They were already queer when it came to their attractions, giving you the hope they would have no issue with you being trans. Thankfully, they accepted you right then and there, immediately asking you about new names, Girlfriend joking about calling everyone her reverse harem, and trying out your he/him pronouns. All of it was so validating and euphoric, but that eventually faded as you now focused on your transitioning.

Days of wearing dysphoria hoodies later, you got your first chest binder. It was from a reliable source that has a good reputation from the other trans men online. It was a struggle to put on, but you got it eventually. And as you looked into the mirror for the first time, you could hardly describe the bliss of how flat your chest looked now.

But even in that moment, as you pressed on your bounded chest, you thought 'it could look flatter.'

You lived in a sort of cursed happiness for the next two weeks. You had some extended stays in the bathroom, adjusting your breasts to make it look flatter, but there were still those moments where there was just a bit too much chest sticking out. You just couldn't rely on your partners or a single binder to boost your confidence anymore at that point.

You grabbed some duct tape and ace bandages from around the house and began experimenting with them, wrapping up your chest until it looked good enough to combine with the binder. Before you look a look in the mirror, you could already tell that it worked. Like, really worked. And if it wasn't for the fact that it hurt like hell, you would be jumping up and down from excitement. 'I'll get used to it,' you foolishly thought.

~~~~~

"Hey (Y/N)! Get your mic, Girlfriend's got the speakers up already!"

Hearing Pico calling out to you snapped you out of your internet browsing on your phone, also causing some accidental chest pain. But you sucked it up like you have been for some months and got ready. You never got used to the tight binding, but the appearance made it worth the hassle.

"There's my little reverse harem!" Girlfriend squealed as you, Boyfriend, and Pico all walked outside together. Boyfriend rushed up closer to the speakers claiming one side as his own while singing a little gibberish tune. Boyfriend always wants to be one of the first to go.

What's going on? Well, you and your partners have this tradition to all have a series of rap battles together every Friday. Each song, you would all take turns swapping around until everyone got to challenge everyone. Sometimes you would team up in pairs for the songs. Those who weren't singing during a song would have the honour of bopping their heads on Girlfriend's iconic speakers.

But these nights weren't as funky for you anymore with your bindings. You were hardly able to keep your breath while singing, and the somewhat dramatic poses rappers often do while singing was painful. Your chest hurts, and then your back, and then those shoulders feel they need a break too. But you did have a sort of strategy: rap against all three during the first three songs and sit on the speakers the rest of the time unless they decided to do a co-op match that week.

After a song with Boyfriend and Girlfriend, it was Pico's turn. He walked up to his spot, twirling his Uzi for the sake of show. "I won't go that hard on you, dear, since I haven't quite warmed my cords up yet." That was a bit odd for Pico to say. He never really cared much for warm ups like more dedicated singers. But hey, can't argue with an easier match to end it off.

~~~~~

You and Pico sat down on the speakers afterwards, waiting for Girlfriend and Boyfriend to give the okay to start the music. "Looked out of breath the whole time," Pico said, "you sure that binder is doing you any good?" "Oh, don't worry! I looked into binding a ton," you lied to him. "And I'll be taking it off after this anyways," you say, sprinkling in another lie to ward off suspision. It seems as though Pico has been on to you a bit, but you always manage to talk away his concerns. But who knows how long it'll stay that way for.

~~~~~

While you were getting your bindings ready in the morning, the others were already at the table eating cereal, being too lazy to actually make anything for today. "Hey guys," Girlfriend says. "Ske-bap?" "Hm?"

"I hope this isn't rude or anything, but do you think (Y/N) actually knows what he's doing when he's binding?"

"I mean," Pico starts, while Boyfriend remains silent, "he does seem more sluggish, but he keeps saying he's fine. I'm not even sure if it's even the binder."

"I think the binder might work a bit too well," she says. "This is going to sound weird, but sometimes I kind of just squish by boobs with my hands to get them to look more flat, yet I don't find it possible to get them too flat without breaking a rib. So how would (Y/N) manage it?"

"Well, I'll force (Y/N) to see a doctor then. But being how persistent he is in keeping that thing on, I wouldn't want to stress him too much."

While Pico and Girlfriend reached an agreement on what to do, Boyfriend pulled out his phone. Boyfriend may be cis, but his gut told him he needed to do some research on this binding thing you were doing.

~~~~~

"You scheduled an appointment without me knowing? How did you even manage that?" You found out that Pico had set up an appointment with a doctor for a couple days away. He says it's because of how weak you seemed to be, which you found both considerate and annoying. "Everyone in the city knows not to mess with the weird ginger kid with a gun, and that receptionist was no exception." "Couldn't I have at least scheduled it myself, though?" "Too late."

"Guys, aren't we going to watch Jazz Club?" Girlfriend awkwardly interrupted. The conversation was getting tense, so you two let it go. "Oh, and does anyone know where Boyfriend went--"

"BEEP!"

Boyfriend ran in the room in a panic, and it looked as though he was about to cry too. "What the hell is up with you?" Pico asked. Boyfriend threw his unlocked phone over to Pico and ran up to you, desperately tugging on your shirt. "TAKE IT OFF!" he finally managed to say after a series of distressed gibberish. "Hey, stop!" you yell as you try to keep him from pulling your shirt off, "you know I hate it when my chest looks big!"

While Girlfriend watched the scene unfold, unknowing of what to say or do, Pico read the article Boyfriend had on his phone. Every line scaring him more. "(Y/N), I'm so sorry." "WHAT?!" Pico went over and helped Boyfriend nearly rip the shirt off you. "Stay still, we're trying to help!" Pico yelled ready to lift the binder up. "I don't need help! I need my shirt back on!"

"Bullshit!" The two were trying to get your binder off now, when they saw something underneath.

"What's that he has under there?"

"Boop?"

"Is that tape?" Pico asked, though he knew damn well that it was.

Crap, you weren't getting out of this. "Yeah?" you answered nervously. Maybe they wouldn't be too worried?

"No wonder you've been so odd recently!" Pico yelled, almost shoving Boyfriends phone in your face. "All of this crap you felt was because you were just too damn desperate!" Pico was scaring you, making you tear up. "But this means so much to me!" "And so does top surgery, and look!" Pico pointed to a sentence in the article. "No safe binding means to top surgery!" "Okay! I'll take it all off!" You shouted, running to your room in tears.

"I uh..." Pico handed Boyfriend his phone back, feeling some regret for how that all went. "I didn't scare him too much, did I?" There was no answer from the two, just silence. After a minute, Girlfriend spoke out. "Let me talk to him for a bit."

~~~~~

You were back in that oversized dysphoria hoodie and in tears when a knock came to your door. "(Y/N), can I come in?" It was Girlfriend, which was a bi of a relief. Pico had scared you, and you was worried it may have been him. "Yes," you said in your now raspy voice. She came in and slowly sat next to you on your bed, patting your back. "Sweety, I know Pico was harsh, but he's right." "But I still liked--" "I know you do, but you know you'll regret it forever if you miss out on the top surgery you want. And knowing Pico, he could even rob a bank to make things go faster for you."

"But I would still have to deal with the size of my chest until then," you stated. "Listen, the only one so worried about your chest is you. We don't see you as any less of a man even without a flat chest, and the people who would judge you are probably some dead-beat transphobes anyways."

Her words didn't exactly make you feel better about your appearance, but you couldn't argue with her; she was right. Your door then opened again, this time by Boyfriend. As soon as he felt it was okay, he pounced on you and hugged you tightly. Your chest was still sore, so you had to gently push him away. Pico poked his head in. "May I?" "It's okay, Pico."

"I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier. Just don't do that again." He went up and slowly held one of your hands, which you didn't object to. "Can I still just wear the regular binder though?" you asked. Pico nodded, "sure, but not until we see a doctor, okay?"

"Sure..."

"That's nice to hear." He moved in to give you a peck on the cheek, which led to the others dong the same.

"We love you, (Y/N)."

#fnf x reader #fnf bf #fnf girlfriend #fnf pico #fnf imagines #boyfriend x reader #girlfriend x reader #pico x reader

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