#I COULD GO ON AND ON BECAUSE THERE ARE STILL SO MANY MORE CHARACTERS??? AND THEY ARE ALL SO GOOD ???

[d1xonss]

Cigarettes After Sex

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 11

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+) and a lil bit of angst

✧ Word Count : 5.6k

AN ~ Not a request but I had this idea that I just couldn't get out of my head. Plus I've been in the mood to write something a little spicy since you guys liked the Older oneshots so much. Hope you enjoy!

Your eyes stayed focused on the pages of the book you were reading in front of you in the smoke filled garage, occasionally turning the pages to continue on with the chapter. In the background you could hear the tools clinking around, along with a few curses that fell from his lips when he couldn’t get something just right. Every once and a while you couldn’t help but look up and stare at him for a few seconds, knowing the real reason you came out here to keep him company while he worked.

Over the past twelve, long years you had known Daryl, you still didn’t exactly know what you were to each other. Some would call the two of you friends, and though that may be true, you always knew there was something a little more there than what meets the eye. And you knew he felt it too, but neither of you were willing to admit that out loud. Too hardheaded, you supposed.

It always caught your attention when he left a few lingering touches on your skin, how he embraced you so dearly as if you were the most important person in the world, or even how he occasionally left a small kiss on your forehead. You couldn’t help but think he did all of these things for a reason, as if to ease you into something that he was always terrified of. And hell, maybe he was easing himself into it too.

You always knew he was never much of a romantic person, he never quite showed interest in anyone else the way he always did with you. Though when he finally did open his heart up to a woman named Leah all those many years ago, he got absolutely crushed in the process, leaving you heartbroken for him as you witnessed him go through it all. In the back of your mind, you hoped it would work out between the two of them because you knew he deserved someone that would treat him right. And though that person may not have been you, it didn’t matter, as long as he was happy. That’s all you had ever wanted for him.

However, you couldn’t help but notice ever since he got hurt, he had been slowly pulling away from you. Not in a way that was drastic, but you always seemed to notice the little things. He had completely stopped showing you affection whatsoever which was very out of character for him considering how close you were. All of the little things he used to do that would make you smile, he had brought to a halt without warning. The only thing that he really did now was just a small squeeze on your shoulder, and that’s only if you were lucky.

It frustrated you slightly, not because of his sudden wall he built up, but because subconsciously he thought you would hurt him the same way she did. He was now scared that the same thing would happen all over again. And it bothered you in a way he could never understand. Because after all you had been through together, he still didn’t seem to know you at all.

“Pass me that screwdriver, will ya?”

Your thoughts cut short when he started to speak, absentmindedly nodding your head as you turned towards the toolbox that was placed right next to you. You dug through them for a moment before you spotted the familiar red handle, grabbing it and stretching your arm out to hand it over to him.

He met your hand halfway as he accepted it gratefully, “Thanks.” he muttered with a small smile, the cigarette still dangling from his lips as he spoke.

You nodded before watching him for another moment, tilting your head to the side, “What’re you fixing up anyway?”

He shrugged as his eyes stayed down, “Just some repairs…nothin too fancy.” he spoke, his eyebrows furrowing as he worked.

“Ah.” you muttered with a small nod, going back to your book as you assumed he didn’t want to be bothered while he focused.

Though upon hearing your small mutter, the quietness taking over the space, Daryl subtly looked back up at you for a moment. He knew things had been different, way different than what the two of you were used to, and a part of him felt bad. Mostly because he knew it was his own fault. He had pushed you away when you had done nothing wrong, and he felt guilty for it every single day.

With that in mind, he cleared his throat as he took a puff from his cigarette, “Ya still want me to teach ya?” he asked, his tone growing softer than before.

You glanced up from your book again, seeing the small smile he had on his face as he reminded you of something you had requested a long time ago. You had rode on the back of his motorcycle many times before, but a part of you wanted to learn how to ride all by yourself. And he clearly remembered.

A smile wormed its way onto your face as well as you nodded, “Yeah…yeah I’d like that.”

He nodded in return as he went back to tuning up his bike, “Gotta start ya off slow though. Can’t have ya crashin into some tree the first time ya get on.”

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself with a roll of your eyes, “Right, we probably wouldn’t want that. But I think I’ll have a pretty good teacher…I’m not too worried.”

His heart swelled, though you couldn’t see, but that comment touched him in a way, “Yeah?” he asked as he looked back up at you.

You nodded again, “I trust you.”

You trusted him. That little comment meant more to him than you could even fathom. It meant that after all the things he had put you through, all the things he regretted, you still loved and trusted him just the same. He couldn’t help but pause for a long moment as he contemplated all of that, how only a few little words could mean the absolute world.

Though when he was lost in his own mind, the cigarette that he now held between his two fingers, slightly burned his skin as some hot ash fell from the tip. He let out a small noise as he shook it off, only now noticing how smokey the space was from how much he was chain smoking with you in the room. He knew you never cared, but a part of him still felt a little bad.

“Sorry.” he muttered as he raised his hand to fan the area a bit, “Didn’t realize how much I hotboxed ya.” he chuckled a little.

You laughed it off as well, waving him off, “You know I don’t mind. Actually I kinda like the smell.”

He raised his eyebrow a bit at the unexpected comment, looking down to the stick in his grasp as he thought about your words for a moment, “Ya never told me that.” he muttered.

You shrugged, “Never really came up I guess. But I don’t know, it’s always kind of been comforting.”

Daryl silently knew what that meant without you even having to explain. And that only made his chest fill with even more warmth than before, knowing he was the reason behind your words. He knew he meant a lot to you, but just hearing you say that his bad habit was somewhat of a comfort to you, it almost made his mindset shift.

You absentmindedly closed your book as you noticed he grew quiet, “You know any cool tricks?” you asked with a smirk.

He huffed quietly with a small smile, wordlessly taking another hit and holding it for a moment before effortlessly blowing it out in small spurts, the smoke forming into little o shapes in the air. You nodded to yourself as you watched him, “Solid.”

He chuckled a little, “Thank you, thank you.” he said as he bowed his head a bit.

Tilting your head a little, you thought to yourself about any more little tidbits he might have experienced, “Have you ever shotgunned it?” 

He raised an eyebrow at you, “Who’s askin?”

“Me.” you smiled sweetly.

He found himself chuckling again, shaking his head as a few memories came to mind, “Uh yeah…yeah I have.” he admitted a bit sheepishly, hoping you wouldn’t ask for any details.

A hum passed through your lips in response, opening your mouth to speak again, though he seemed to beat you to it, “You ever done anything like that?”

You scoffed, “Who’s asking?”

But he didn’t answer you. He only stared at you with the same small smile, however, there seemed to be something a little more behind his eyes. Though you couldn’t tell what that was, it intrigued you slightly. “No…” you answered honestly.

“Ya wanna try?”

It felt like your heart had dropped and settled into your stomach, swearing that you heard him wrong. “You’re not serious.”

But the smile on his face only grew a little, confirming to you just how serious he was as he nodded for you to come closer to him, “Come here.”

In all honesty he didn’t know what he was doing, and seeing the shock on your face only made the small pit in his stomach grow further, though he didn’t show it. He couldn’t really think in that moment at all about how this could be perceived, all he knew was that he wanted to be closer to you. Suddenly having a craving for it, having been without it for far too long.

A few beats of tense silence passed before you finally found the strength to stand to your feet, moving closer towards him as he stood tall as well. You tilted your head back a bit as you looked up at him, standing just a few inches away as you almost waited for him to instruct you on what to do next. Because in all honesty, you didn’t know what you were doing. 

His eyes traced over your face for a moment, almost wanting to ask you to stand a little bit closer to him, but ultimately he refrained. He knew he couldn’t be greedy with you, not when you were already so precious to him. He only held the cigarette out towards you, watching as your delicate hand took it from his grasp, all while never removing your gaze from his.

“Go on and take a long drag.” he instructed, his voice coming off in an anticipating whisper.

You only nodded your head in response, placing the end of it in between your lips as you slowly inhaled all the smoke it had to offer. Daryl couldn’t help but stare down at your lips the entire time, he studied you in the most mesmerizing way it almost caused you to choke on your own spit. Yet you still couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it made you grow a little frustrated all over again.

Your heart then fluttered when the smoke filled your lungs, taking the cigarette away from your mouth as you leaned up on your tiptoes to get closer to him. His hand instinctively came up to cradle your jaw as he pulled you even closer to his lips, feeling them barely brush against each other before the blissful feeling would soon wash over the two of you.

Exhaling the smoke, you blew the thick cloud right into his mouth, hearing a quiet groan leave him in response. It surprised you how good it felt, how your skin practically ignited with fire at his simple sound of enjoyment, it made your mind wander to a very dangerous place. His hand didn’t stray away from your face as he inhaled the smoke until he physically couldn’t anymore, the craving he felt only building to a new level as a part of him wanted to taste you. Just for a moment.

But the thought vanished, everything crashing down in an instant as he felt you pull away from his mouth, clearing your throat a bit. His eyes fluttered open to see you standing there awkwardly, not knowing what to say as the two of you had never dared to cross this line before in the past.

“Well, I guess now I can cross that one off the bucket list.” you joked with a small, forced laugh.

“Do it again.”

Your eyes snapped back up to meet his as he spoke with zero hesitation in his tone, not even acknowledging that you made a comment at all. “What?” you asked quietly.

He took a small breath before speaking again, repeating the phrase, “Do it again.”

If you weren’t stunned before, you sure as hell were now as you stood almost frozen before him. To say it was one thing, but to repeat it with such confidence was another. He was serious. What started out as just a suggestion, now turned into something a lot more real.

But you found you didn’t protest. Because you wanted it too.

You then held the cigarette back up to your lips, inhaling it all over again as you were surprised you didn’t cough even once in the whole process. His eyes practically lit up as he saw you repeat the action, mentally preparing himself for the familiar feeling that would hit him all over again. But the thing he couldn’t get past was that he had never felt it before now. He only felt it with you. And it was very surreal.

Your perfect lips parted from the cigarette after what felt like a lifetime of waiting, moving back up to him to exhale the smoke into his mouth once more. The man breathed it in as if he needed it to stay alive, his hands coming up to your arms to hold you in place as if he was scared you would pull away again. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Not even if you wanted to. The slightest brush of your lips made your breath hitch, but before you could even register what you were doing, you pressed your lips firmly to his. It almost didn’t feel real.

Daryl responded immediately, instantly bringing you into him as he wrapped his arms around you to hold you closer to his chest. Your hands went up to the sides of his face, tilting your head a bit so your noses wouldn’t clash so much, the kiss intensifying in just a split second. It was like all the years of the built up tension, the built up feelings, were now finally being unleashed after so long of waiting. You supposed before it was never the right time, but now, it couldn’t have felt more perfect.

His tongue moved to run along your lips almost teasingly, begging for an entrance as his hands gripped you even tighter. And you accepted his request, parting your lips for him and feeling his excitement grow as he didn’t take it for granted. His tongue swirled rapidly in your mouth, letting out a groan of pleasure as he tasted your sweetness. You shivered slightly at the low rumble you heard from him, something about it turning you on even more as you had never heard that sound from him before. It was like a switch flipped.

He continued to absolutely devour your mouth, his hands now running down the curves of your body in a slow and teasing manner, taking his time. You gasped softly as you felt your skin almost tingling under his touch, wanting to feel him everywhere. So without thinking, you quickly moved your hands down to his chest as you frantically began to try and tear his shirt off of him. Your fingers worked on each of the buttons, though you couldn’t see what you were doing, it all felt like it was happening so fast you almost had no time to prepare yourself.

But in a fit of panic, Daryl quickly pulled back from your mouth as the feeling of you trying to take off his shirt finally registered in his mind. He still remained close to you, but his sudden actions stopped you from yours, your hands freezing in place as it was clear you had pushed him too far. But your expression was filled with confusion and concern as you couldn’t understand why he looked almost scared to go any further.

He sighed as his eyes remained closed, almost ashamed to look at your face as he gently leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours. “I…I can’t.” he whispered.

Your eyes seemed to widen as it clicked in your mind. He hadn’t done anything like this since Leah. Since he had been burned so badly by her. Since he was left shattered and heartbroken because of what she did to him. He opened up to her unlike anyone else, and she left him. A lump formed in your throat as the realization set in for you, seeing just how scared he was for this to potentially happen to him all over again.

“I can’t do this, I…I can’t lose you too.”

You sighed softly as you shook your head, your hands tilting his face up a little more, “Hey, look at me.” 

He simply shook his head, his eyes remaining closed, “Daryl, look at me.” you pleaded quietly.

When he did finally open his eyes, you could see he was starting to tear up, breaking your heart even further. Not only to see how much he was hurting, but how much he was truly terrified to lose you. Although in your mind, that wasn’t even a possibility.

“You couldn’t lose me, okay? Ever.” you whispered, “I’m not going anywhere. You know me…I would never hurt you like that. Never.”

Upon hearing your voice reassure him so sweetly, his tears slowly slipped down his cheeks, watching as he swallowed thickly to try and pull himself together. But you didn’t want him to be embarrassed. You understood more than he probably realized. Which is why you were quick to wipe them away with your thumbs, leaning up to kiss the ones you had missed in hopes to offer him even more comfort.

He shuttered under your touch, quickly finding your lips with his own again as he kissed you deeply, holding the back of your head steady as his lips were filled with passion. You responded to his kiss with hesitance, not wanting to push him again as you didn’t have a clear response to how he was feeling. But once you felt him take your hands, guiding them back up to the buttons on his shirt, you had your answer.

In a flurry of hurried kisses and laughs, nearly tripping over one another as you tried to make it back inside the house, the two of you finally landed on the couch in the living room. Neither of you really cared about trying to make it all the way upstairs, almost as if it was a silent agreement that you were both impatient. You panted heavily as each piece of fabric was being discarded onto the floor faster than you could even realize, yet his hands moved across your skin with such ease and gentleness. The action alone told you a thousand things, and yet he didn’t need to say a word.

You quickly lowered yourself to your knees the second you saw the opportunity, getting in between his legs as he sat on the couch. His eyes widened at your actions, “Aye, you don’t gotta-”

But his words were cut off with a groan as you lowered your mouth to the tip of his dick, darting your tongue out to slowly swirl around and tease him the smallest bit. You knew you didn’t have to, but you wanted him to feel special for once, you wanted him to feel important and loved. And besides, you just couldn’t help yourself as your mouth practically watered at the sight. And the small noises he was letting out as you licked sensually along his shaft, was almost like a reward of some kind.

He threw his head back slightly as his hands went up to hold your hair back for you, feeling you teasingly lower your lips just a little at a time to take more of him in your mouth. It was almost like torture with how slow you were going, but it was also the most enjoyable torture he could even endure. His muscles twitched in anticipation and he was already beginning to sweat, clenching his teeth together all the while.

“Come on,” he muttered breathlessly, talking more to himself than he was to you.

But you still took it as a sign, seeing he had enough and finally lowered your mouth even more to take him further. A shaky moan left his parted lips at your actions, hissing slightly when he felt your teeth barely brushing against him as well, though it wasn’t enough to hurt. Just enough to get his attention. You then began slowly bobbing your head up and down the length of him, swirling your tongue and hollowing out your cheeks to really make him squirm. His hands tightened around your hair in response, another low groan echoing around the room as he basked in the state of pleasure you provided.

His breathing grew heavier and heavier by the second, growing even more sensitive to you as your pace began to gradually pick up, trying to take even more of him in your mouth. You couldn’t lie though, he was bigger than what you had experienced in the past, which made you almost nervous. But hearing what you were doing to him so far, it gave you the right motivation you needed to keep going.

“F-Fuck.” he breathed as the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat, feeling your hands running up and down his thighs as you tried not to gag. Though he felt you struggle a bit, pulling your hair up slightly as if signaling you that you could ease up if you needed, but you didn’t. He felt too good in your mouth for you to want to stop.

Your head then moved a bit faster, taking him as deep as you could as you heard his whimpers and moans, not even trying to hold them back anymore. He wanted to make it known how good you were making him feel, just the sound of it was enough to make you wet, and he hadn’t even touched you yet. Your spit soaked him completely, making it almost easier to take him entirely in your mouth as you felt him hit the back of your throat almost every time with each pass.

His breath hitched, “Oh shit,” he muttered as he tried to regulate his breathing, “Ya need to get up here…come on.” he almost pleaded.

And you didn’t need to be told twice, feeling how hard he was now he was nearly throbbing in your mouth, knowing he was close to falling apart. So your lips slowly parted from his aching dick, leaving a few lingering kisses behind before you slowly stood back up to your feet with a smile. Looking at his face now, he gazed at you as if you put all the stars in the sky, as if you painted him the most beautiful sunset you could’ve ever laid your eyes on. Or as if you had given him the best head of his life.

He watched as you wiped your mouth from the spit that nearly dribbled down your chin, quickly reaching forward to pull you in and crash his mouth against yours, licking your lips completely clean. You giggled in response to his eagerness, attempting to remove your thong as it was the last thing in the way, struggling to kick it off your ankles. Though the moment it hit the ground, you instantly moved forward and broke away from his mouth for only a moment, straddling his hips as you hovered on top of him.

The man nearly gawked at the sight of you, “God…” he muttered as if he couldn’t find the words. But you knew what he was getting at, knowing that his actions always spoke louder than his words ever could. And he only proved that further when he lowered his mouth to one of your breasts, sucking gently at your nipple to elicit a small whimper from you.

You could feel his lip curl up in response to your little noises, his hand coming up to gently massage the other with his rough fingers. The scratchiness of his calloused palms made it even better somehow, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine as you lowered yourself a little more onto him in response. He hummed at your actions, encouraging you to continue as his mouth worked wildly along your breast.

One of your hands then moved down to gently guide his tip towards you, running it up and down your slit to gather the wetness that pooled there. Your chest heaved up and down as you were almost overwhelmed with the tingles running through your entire body, nearly causing you to shake. 

Daryl’s mouth then dragged all across your skin, leaving a small trail of small hickies along your chest, groaning as you continued to play with him a little. Your other hand came up to run through his hair, tilting your head back a little as you dragged his dick up to circle around your pulsing clit. That seemed to cause you both to gasp, the slow and tormenting teasing beginning to be too much as Daryl quickly removed his mouth from you, his hands moving to your hips as if to position you in the most perfect way he could.

You followed his lead as your hands moved up to his shoulders to steady yourself, feeling him move his dick down to your entrance to align himself with you. And when you finally sunk down onto him, it felt like absolute heaven. A long, slow moan left your lips as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, hearing a harsh grunt escape him as he tried to refrain from pounding into you. He knew he needed to take his time, wanting to draw this out for as long as he could as if it were the first and last time. He hoped for more, he prayed for more, but he knew it was never guaranteed.

His forehead fell to rest in the middle of your chest as the two of you basked in the pure errotic experience, slowly managing to move your hips once you were ready. It was slow at first, gradually easing into it as you lowered yourself back down onto him again and again, your hands moving to grip the back of his hair. He groaned as he felt you tug a little at his roots, but in all honesty, he didn’t care. In fact, he liked it.

You moaned softly as you rocked your hips against his, pulling almost all the way off of him before he filled you completely once more. What you were feeling was almost indescribable, not having felt it with any other man you had been intimate with in your entire life. But with him, it felt so different, so incredibly good. Like his body was made for yours, fitting together perfectly like a puzzle piece you had been missing for far too long. And you weren’t the only one feeling like that, with him squirming beneath you, it was just a sign to not stop your movements anytime soon.

You bounced on him at a steady pace as you balanced yourself, feeling his hand travel down to rub slow circles along your clit with his thumb. You nearly cried out in response, your heart racing out of your chest, “Oh fuck…yes.” you breathed as his pace quickened.

“Yeah? Ya like that?” he asked as his face moved close to whisper in your ear, feeling his teeth gently bite down on your earlobe.

Your mouth fell open in response as you gasped, nodding your head frantically, “Yes…yes.” you moaned as you continued to rock against him, feeling your wetness drip all over him with how aroused you were.

“Mmm,” he hummed his mouth traveling down to kiss along your jawline, “You’re doin so good sweetheart.” he breathed as he held back a groan, “So good.”

His praise only spurred you on more, your fingers tugging a bit harder at his hair which caused him to groan, thrusting his hips up into you to match your pace. The sinful sounds that escaped you should never be heard by anyone, you couldn’t even believe you were the one making them. But he was the one to cause all those little reactions, adding something more to push you over the edge. And it was working too, you had felt it ever since you were down on your knees in front of him. The familiar tingling in your stomach was building to the point where it could spill over at any moment.

He panted heavily as he began to suck on the base of your neck, “I love you…God, I love you.” he whispered.

The words threw you off guard for a moment as your eyes widened, but you didn’t stop, nor were you scared to say it back. “I love you too.” you responded breathlessly.

That phrase had gone unspoken between the two of you for years, constantly avoiding saying it to each other for no reason at all. Perhaps it was stubbornness, or just the fear of the feelings not being reciprocated. But for whatever reason, this moment alone brought it out to the open. And it couldn’t have felt better.

Daryl thrusted deeper into you upon hearing your response, causing you to gasp as you felt the string finally snap inside you, releasing your orgasm as your muscles twitched. Feeling you squeezing him, he cursed as he quickly pulled himself out of you in one swift motion, cumming all over your stomach. You could’ve sworn your vision went black for a moment as you slowly came down from your blissful high, not a word being said for a few minutes at least as you both tried to regain yourselves. 

His head rested against your chest again, his lips beginning to leave a trail of kisses up your skin as your eyes were still hazy, leading them up to your neck where he nuzzled his face, pulling you close to his chest. You hummed in response, running your fingers through his hair as you thought to yourself for a moment, finally finding the strength to speak.

“Did you…really mean that?” you whispered hesitantly.

He pulled his face back to look at you, his head still too far up in the clouds that he clearly didn’t hear you. The big grin on his face was evidence of that. “Hm?”

You huffed with a small smile, “The whole…I love you thing…did you really mean it? Or was it like the heat of the moment.”

His brows furrowed in concern as he gently cupped the sides of your face, “Of course I meant it. I love you.” he repeated again, as if to make sure you really heard him.

You smiled in slight relief, “Did you mean it?” he asked with a smirk.

“Yes.” you said with a breathy laugh, “I just…wanted to make sure.”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, darlin,” he said as he leaned in to rub his nose against yours lovingly, “I’ve always loved ya…my dumbass just took too long to admit it.”

You shook your head in response, “It’s okay. I understand why.”

He sighed quietly as he thought about how much he may have missed out on, how much went down the drain just because he was scared. Not only to have his heartbroken, but to potentially lose one of his best friends if you didn’t feel the same way he did. There was always a risk, but he let the fear consume him, and now he was kicking himself for it seeing how easy it was to be with you. He should’ve always known, and now he felt he was too late.

You quickly noticed his change in his expression and gently tilted his chin up so he’d look at you, “Hey…what’s wrong?”

He shook his head, “M’ just…m’ sorry.”

“For what?” you asked in confusion.

“For not actin on this years ago. For pushin ya away when I was hurtin just because I was nervous about it happenin all over again.” he stopped suddenly to gather his thoughts, “I just feel like I wasted so much time.” he finished with a whisper.

Your face was filled with worry about hearing him apologize for something that he had nothing to be sorry for. It hurt you seeing how much this was affecting him, knowing that the two of you should be happy that it finally happened. Not wanting to dwell on the past.

You leaned in to gently kiss his lips for a moment, pulling away enough to speak, “Well, it’s a good thing we got all the time in the world now.” you smiled.

His eyes slowly filled with a little more hope, “You mean…”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I love you.” 

He let out a small breath he was unaware he was holding, pulling you close to press multiple kisses all over your face, “I love you too.” he whispered, continuing to trace his lips wherever he could reach, igniting an infectious laugh from you.

It seemed his prayers were answered. 

~ Thanks for reading!

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[unfortunate17]

i agree with you about being frustrated with how often this fandom has top/bottom discussions but its a pretty common talking point in most fandoms so YR isn’t special for that

No I totally agree with you that it’s a common topic of discussion in a lot of fandoms, but there’s a particular way we have it in this fandom that really grinds my gears.

And don’t get me wrong, I don’t care if you hc Wilmon to be vers or if you think Wille tops or Simon tops or whatever - it’s the justification and reasoning that I’m seeing behind these headcanons that I find deeply irritating and, frankly, insulting and kind of homophobic.

This is going to get long so forgive me.

1. I’ve seen so many posts talk about how the show is “brave” and “subversive” by having Wille go down on Simon or potentially bottom, but like - what the hell are we even talking about? In what world is it subversive to show a queer character having queer sex?? What are we subverting?? This show has never shown us anything with its intimate scenes other than two guys that are deeply in love and really horny for eachother and I hate that we keep bringing this shit up!!!

2. I’ve also seen people say that it was very important for us to see Wille moving to go down on Simon in the tape in S1 because it’s “more damning evidence that he’s queer” and otherwise Wille could’ve just said he was horny and desperate but he was actually imagining he was with a girl in his denial statement. But be so fucking forreal, in what world is that a thing he could argue in an official statement to the press? He’d be the laughing stock of the world.

Wilhelm isn’t more or less gay because he went down on Simon vs the other way around. He’d still be having queer sex because he’s having sex with another guy. Arguing that the framing here is for anything other than a plot device so Wille’s face wouldn’t be visible to set up the denial is actually kind of ridiculous.

As someone very smart on here said, “I’m sorry that you apparently have a tier list of sex acts ranging from “kinda straight” to “Gaylord” 😭😭 get well soon, couldn’t be me.”

Imagine for one second Simon was the one giving Wille head? Would you have criticized the show for that?? And WHY?!

3. Next: saying that Wilmon’s relationship is “equal” because you think they’re vers is…a take and a half lmao. What the fuck does being vers have to do with a relationship being equal?? Why are we assigning arbitrary hierarchies to sexual preferences??? Why are we implying that topping and bottoming are somehow not equal and you have to carefully balance both, when, ideally, it’s just whatever the fuck everyone is into???

Wille isn’t selfish for topping. Simon isn’t sacrificing anything by bottoming. They’re fucking because they’re in love and they want to 😭

TLDR: Wille doesn’t suck Simon’s dick for class liberation. Simon riding Wille isn’t a commentary on how he’s “girl-coded.” It’s just sex, leave them alone to have a good time and stop assigning agendas to queer sex.

#ask #this got long and crass and I’m NOT sorry #I stole this response from a convo I had with someone in the DMs so ty for your contributions to this post bestie you know who you are #but I could not bite my tongue for any longer #young royals

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Harry was never really Dumbledore's man

So, in HBP Harry says himself:

“Well, it is clear to me that he has done a very good job on you,” said Scrimgeour, his eyes cold and hard behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “Dumbledore’s man through and through, aren’t you, Potter?” “Yeah, I am,” said Harry.

(HBP, 348)

But, I'm here to argue Harry actually has many many doubts and reservations about Dumbledore throughout all books (even HBP), and I find it interesting how Harry convinced the Wizarding world (and the readers) that he's Dumbledore's man when he isn't. Not really.

(Just makes me all the more annoyed at him calling his son Albus...)

I'm going to go through some examples of Harry showing his doubts about Dumbledore way before book 7. Because Harry is an abused, distrusting boy, and Dumbledore isn't actually an exception to that until very late into the books. And even when Harry chooses to trust Dumbledore's intentions, he never fully trusts his judgment.

“D’you think he meant you to do it?” said Ron. “Sending you your father’s cloak and everything?” “Well, ” Hermione exploded, “if he did — I mean to say that’s terrible — you could have been killed.” “No, it isn’t,” said Harry thoughtfully. “He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It’s almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could….”

(PS, 217)

This quote above is from the ending of Philosopher's Stone and the outlook Harry, Ron, and Hermione have on Dumbledore and his behavior is the same as seen in the later books. So I wanted to talk about each of them and how they see Dumbledore because this quote really sets the tone for the rest of the series.

Ron is doubtful and distrustful. The situation is odd, and he's clever, he analyzed the situation and came to a frightening conclusion — the whole ordeal seemed planned by Dumbledore. And Ron isn't scared of voicing this question.

Hermione, while not always a rule-follower, respects Dumbledore and his authority. A lot. So, she doesn't believe Dumbledore could've planned it as it would reflect badly on his character and authority. Hermione is a very loyal person, and once she decides she respects someone she is willfully blind to their flaws (we see it with her later in the series).

Harry, while he's clever enough to notice the same things Ron did and come to the same conclusion — that Dumbledore planned for an 11-year-old to face Voldemort — he attributes good intentions to Dumbledore. Harry sees the situation and draws his conclusions, but chooses to hope/believe Dumbledore's intentions were good ones.

Harry’s brain seemed to have jammed. He stared numbly at Riddle, at the orphaned boy who had grown up to murder Harry’s own parents, and so many others. . . . At last he forced himself to speak. “You’re not,” he said, his quiet voice full of hatred. “Not what?” snapped Riddle. “Not the greatest sorcerer in the world,” said Harry, breathing fast. “Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn’t dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you’re hiding these days —” The smile had gone from Riddle’s face, to be replaced by a very ugly look. “Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!” he hissed. “He’s not as gone as you might think!” Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true —

(CoS, 282)

This is one of the scenes people call to to show how much faith Harry has in Dumbledore (even Dumbledore himself), the thing is, Harry says (in his mind) he's just saying things to try and scare Tom. To try and buy time, or unbalance Tom so he may have a chance at escape.

The important note is that Harry doesn't actually believe what he's saying to Tom. He's just saying what he thinks would bother Tom the most.

Harry had never shared this piece of information with anybody. He was very fond of his wand, and as far as he was concerned its relation to Voldemort’s wand was something it couldn’t help — rather as he couldn’t help being related to Aunt Petunia. However, he really hoped that Mr. Ollivander wasn’t about to tell the room about it. He had a funny feeling Rita Skeeter’s Quick-Quotes Quill might just explode with excitement if he did.

(GoF, 310)

This part about telling no one about his wand's connection to Voldemort is true. He never told anyone by that point in GoF. Not Ron, not Hermione, not Dumbledore, not even Sirius.

As I mentioned above, Harry is abused and distrustful. He's not at all Dumbledore's perfect soldier who trusts him with everything. In GoF, Harry decides against telling Dumbledore about his dreams and the pain in his scar:

“Your scar hurt? Harry, that’s really serious. . . . Write to Professor Dumbledore! And I’ll go and check Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. . . . Maybe there’s something in there about curse scars. . . .” Yes, that would be Hermione’s advice: Go straight to the headmaster of Hogwarts, and in the meantime, consult a book. [...] As for informing the headmaster, Harry had no idea where Dumbledore went during the summer holidays. He amused himself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore, with his long silver beard, fulllength wizard’s robes, and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion onto his long crooked nose. Wherever Dumbledore was, though, Harry was sure that Hedwig would be able to find him; Harry’s owl had never yet failed to deliver a letter to anyone, even without an address. But what would he write? Dear Professor Dumbledore, Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning. Yours sincerely, Harry Potter. Even inside his head the words sounded stupid.

(GoF, 21)

Harry doesn't wish to share secrets with Dumbledore, nor does he feel comfortable to go to him with his troubles (his go-to adult while Sirius was around was always Sirius). Again, Hermione is mentioned as the one who trusts Dumbledore's authority, in Harry's head, but he's right, he knows her well.

Harry actually spends a good portion of the series purposefully trying to hide information from Dumbledore. (I'm saying 'trying ' because Dumbledore always found out, but not because Harry told him).

“He seemed to think it was best,” said Hermione rather breathlessly. “Dumbledore, I mean.” “Right,” said Harry. He noticed that her hands too bore the marks of Hedwig’s beak and found that he was not at all sorry. “I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles —” Ron began. “Yeah?” said Harry, raising his eyebrows. “Have either of you been attacked by dementors this summer?” “Well, no — but that’s why he’s had people from the Order of the Phoenix tailing you all the time -” Harry felt a great jolt in his guts as though he had just missed a step going downstairs. So everyone had known he was being followed except him. “Didn’t work that well, though, did it?” said Harry, doing his utmost to keep his voice even. “Had to look after myself after all, didn’t I?” “He was so angry,” said Hermione in an almost awestruck voice. “Dumbledore. We saw him. When he found out Mundungus had left before his shift had ended. He was scary.” “Well, I’m glad he left,” Harry said coldly. “If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have done magic and Dumbledore would probably have left me at Privet Drive all summer.”

(OotP, 63)

Harry is angry here, true, but he doubts Dumbledore's idea of what's "safe" for him. He's actually glad for the dementors because he doubts Dumbledore would've brought him over if it wasn't an emergency.

And Harry is right to be doubtful and suspicious. He's right that he's less safe at the Dursleys than at Grimmauld Place. He's right to feel angry and betrayed at literally everyone knowing he's being followed except for him. He's right Dumbledore probably wouldn't have brought him if it wasn't for the dementor attack. Harry is correct in each and every one of his assessments of Dumbledore's character and decisions here.

“No,” said Harry, shaking his head. “It’s more like . . . his mood, I suppose. I’m just getting flashes of what mood he’s in. . . . Dumbledore said something like this was happening last year. . . . He said that when Voldemort was near me, or when he was feeling hatred, I could tell. Well, now I’m feeling it when he’s pleased too. . . .” There was a pause. The wind and rain lashed at the building. “You’ve got to tell someone,” said Ron. “I told Sirius last time.” “Well, tell him about this time!” “Can’t, can I?” said Harry grimly. “Umbridge is watching the owls and the fires, remember?” “Well then, Dumbledore —” “I’ve just told you, he already knows,” said Harry shortly, getting to his feet, taking his cloak off his peg, and swinging it around himself. “There’s no point telling him again.” Ron did up the fastening of his own cloak, watching Harry thoughtfully. “Dumbledore’d want to know,” he said. Harry shrugged. “C’mon . . . we’ve still got Silencing Charms to practice . . .”

(OotP, 382)

Remember I mentioned Harry hiding things from Dumbledore? This is one of such occasions. There are more in GoF that I didn't copy, but this is an example of Voldemort-related, dangerous information Harry is hiding from Dumbledore because he doesn't trust him and doesn't feel comfortable telling him things.

“It’s lessons with Snape that are making it worse,” said Harry flatly. “I’m getting sick of my scar hurting, and I’m getting bored walking down that corridor every night.” He rubbed his forehead angrily. “I just wish the door would open, I’m sick of standing staring at it —” “That’s not funny,” said Hermione sharply. “Dumbledore doesn’t want you to have dreams about that corridor at all, or he wouldn’t have asked Snape to teach you Occlumency. You’re just going to have to work a bit harder in your lessons.” “I am working!” said Harry, nettled. “You try it sometime, Snape trying to get inside your head, it’s not a bundle of laughs, you know!” “Maybe . . .” said Ron slowly. “Maybe what?” said Hermione rather snappishly. “Maybe it’s not Harry’s fault he can’t close his mind,” said Ron darkly. “What do you mean?” said Hermione. “Well, maybe Snape isn’t really trying to help Harry. . . .” Harry and Hermione stared at him. Ron looked darkly and meaningfully from one to the other. “Maybe,” he said again in a lower voice, “he’s actually trying to open Harry’s mind a bit wider . . . make it easier for You-Know —” “Shut up, Ron,” said Hermione angrily. “How many times have you suspected Snape, and when have you ever been right? Dumbledore trusts him, he works for the Order, that ought to be enough.” “He used to be a Death Eater,” said Ron stubbornly. “And we’ve never seen proof that he really swapped sides. . . .” “Dumbledore trusts him,” Hermione repeated. “And if we can’t trust Dumbledore, we can’t trust anyone.”

(OotP, 554)

Again we see the same exact dynamic from first year. Hermione is loyal to Dumbledore, not even considering he might be wrong about something, or not have their best interests at heart. Ron and Harry on the other hand, are both open to the possibility that things aren't so simple. They don't think Dumbledore is intentionally harming Harry, but they think he's wrong about Snape. Something Hermione, Arthur and Molly would never consider.

(This is actually the most annoying thing in Hermione's character for me, her unshakable faith in Dumbledore, who doesn't deserve her trust)

“. . . so you see what this means?” Harry finished at a gallop. “Dumbledore won’t be here tonight, so Malfoy’s going to have another clear shot at whatever he’s up to. No, listen to me!” he hissed angrily, as both Ron and Hermione showed every sign of interrupting. “I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here —” He shoved the Marauder’s Map into Hermione’s hands. “You’ve got to watch him and you’ve got to watch Snape too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the D.A., Hermione, those contact Galleons will still work, right? Dumbledore says he’s put extra protection in the school, but if Snape’s involved, he’ll know what Dumbledore’s protection is, and how to avoid it — but he won’t be expecting you lot to be on the watch, will he?” “Harry —” began Hermione, her eyes huge with fear.

(HBP, 552)

Even in book 6, the book Harry grows the most comfortable and trusting towards Dumbledore, even then, he doesn't trust Dumbledore. He thinks (and somewhat rightly so because he doesn't know of Snape and Dumbledore's plan) that Dumbledore is wrong about Snape. that Dumbledore is wrong about Malfoy. Harry doesn't trust that whatever protections Dumbledore would leave would be enough (and they weren't).

Even at the end of HBP, the point in the series where Harry has the most faith in Dumbledore, Harry still doesn't trust Dumbledore's judgment or his ability to protect the school. Even after Dumbledore calls Harry out on it, telling him the safety of the students is important to him, Harry still tells Ron and Hermione to get the DA to protect the school without notifying Dumbledore.

And Dumbledore raised Harry to feel responsible for the school's safety, Harry is doing what he was "bred" to do. But he does it behind Dumbledore's back, because like every adult, Harry deep down expects to be let down. After all, he's used to saving the school himself.

So, no, Harry never really trusted Dumbledore fully. At least, not Dumbledore's judgment. Harry does believe Dumbledore's intentions are good for the most part, even if ineffective.

“He never told me his sister was a Squib,” said Harry, without thinking, still cold inside. “And why on earth would he tell you?” screeched Muriel, swaying a little in her seat as she attempted to focus upon Harry [...] Where was saintly Albus while Ariana was locked in the cellar? Off being brilliant at Hogwarts, and never mind what was going on in his own house!” “What d’you mean, locked in the cellar?” asked Harry. “What is this?” Doge looked wretched. Auntie Muriel cackled again and answered Harry. [...] Numbly Harry thought of how the Dursleys had once shut him up, locked him away, kept him out of sight, all for the crime of being a wizard. Had Dumbledore’s sister suffered the same fate in reverse: imprisoned for her lack of magic? Had Dumbledore truly left her to her fate while he went off to Hogwarts to prove himself brilliant and talented?

(DH, 135-137)

And in Deathley Hollows, Harry is very quick to start questioning and doubting Dumbledore. Especially when compared to Hermione:

“Harry—” But he shook his head. Some inner certainty had crashed down inside him; it was exactly as he had felt after Ron left. He had trusted Dumbledore, believed him the embodiment of goodness and wisdom. All was ashes: How much more could he lose? Ron, Dumbledore, the phoenix wand . . . “Harry.” She seemed to have heard his thoughts. “Listen to me. It—it doesn’t make very nice reading—” “Yeah, you could say that—” “—but don’t forget, Harry this is Rita Skeeter writing.” “You did read that letter to Grindelwald, didn’t you?” “Yes, I—I did.” She hesitated, looking upset, cradling her tea in her cold hands.

(DH, 311)

Harry is hurt, he feels betrayed, because while he never 100% trusted Dumbledore's judgment, he trusted his intentions. He trusted Dumbledore was good and cared for him. He feels cold and betrayed, showing trust in his intentions. But his readiness to accept Skeeter's and Muriel's accusations so quickly shows he always had his doubts about Dumbledore and they never really left, even if he wanted to trust him, he never did, not fully.

Hermione, on the other hand, who was always loyal and trusted Dumbledore (both his intentions and judgment) 100%, tries to rationalize Dumbledore's actions and convince herself everyone who says bad things about him is lying.

Harry doesn't. Because out of the Golden Trio, Hermione was always Dumbledore's woman, Ron and Harry... not really. Not as much.

“That old berk,” muttered Aberforth, taking another swig of mead. “Thought the sun shone out of my brother’s every office, he did. Well, so did plenty of people, you three included, by the looks of it.” Harry kept quiet. He did not want to express the doubts and uncertainties about Dumbledore that had riddled him for months now. He had made his choice while he dug Dobby’s grave, he had decided to continue along the winding, dangerous path indicated for him by Albus Dumbledore, to accept that he had not been told everything that he wanted to know, but simply to trust. He had no desire to doubt again; he did not want to hear anything that would deflect him from his purpose. He met Aberforth’s gaze, which was so strikingly like his brothers’: The bright blue eyes gave the same impression that they were X-raying the object of their scrutiny, and Harry thought that Aberforth knew what he was thinking and despised him for it. “Professor Dumbledore cared about Harry, very much,” said Hermione in a low voice. “Did he now?” said Aberforth. “Funny thing how many of the people my brother cared about very much ended up in a worse state than if he’d left ’em well alone.”

(DH, 478)

More of how Harry thinks about Dumbledore, showing, again, how he always had his doubts and reservations but he chooses to trust Dumbledore's intentions because otherwise, he doesn't think he has any hope to defeat Voldemort. He chooses to keep following Dumbledore's path because he has no real choice but to trust what he sees as the only path that'll lead to Voldemort's destruction. But Harry has plenty of doubts about Dumbledore.

Hermione, on the other hand, has little to no doubts. She doesn't allow herself to doubt.

And this pattern, of Harry doubting Dumbledore again and again, never truly trusting him, just trusting his plan will kill Voldemort... like, how does that lead Harry to want to name his kid 'Albus'? I just don't get it...

TL;DR

Harry likes to say he's Dumbledore's man, but he always had his reservations, even when he choose to ignore them since trusting Dumbledore's plan felt like his only chance at survival. Hermione is much more trusting of Dumbledore than Harry is.

#harry potter #hp #harry potter thoughts #hp thoughts #harry potter meta #hp meta #hollowedtheory #hp theory #harry james potter #harry potter analysis #albus dumbledore

[icyg4l]

PAC: How to Heal Your Broken Heart

Hello beautiful people! If you are currently going through a romantic break-up, I send my love to you. 🫶 But here, I will give advice on how you can deal with your grief. I am not a therapist so if you feel like you need to contact one, I would highly encourage that you do that. If you resonate with this reading and would like a more personalized reading, please read my guidelines and message me privately so you can receive one. Without further ado, please select your pile!

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-4)

Pile One: You need to acknowledge that this was meant for you to happen! There is nothing wrong with being single, lovely. Sometimes things just don’t work out and that’s okay. Right now, it’s time for you to focus on bigger and better things without someone by your side. You could have been with your partner for years and one day things just ended. It happens. But the best for you to do right now is to get your hair and nails done. Get to know yourself as a person, not as a partner. You have so much personality, Pile One. You need to take up more space on your own. You don’t need someone to conquer the world with you. I feel like you honestly just have to get used to being by yourself so find literally anything to do by yourself. Read, go for a walk, buy yourself flowers, take yourself on dates. Spend more time making yourself the main character instead of finding ways to antagonize your ex.

Cards Used: Ace of Cups (RX), Four of Wands, Judgment, 7 of Discs, 9 of Swords, 9 of Cups.

extras: fancy dates. peach smoothie. alice in wonderland. benedict cumberbatch. “lumberyard.”

Pile Two: You got a lot of cards, which means that you need to listen up. Pile Two, when was the last time you’ve been outside with your friends? You may have spent a lot of time in isolation in your previous relationship. You don’t have to do that anymore. Your girls are waiting on you. It is best that you go to as many parties that you can find to avoid going back because you don’t need to be with a manipulative liar anymore. I would also suggest that you go to a jewelry store and go spoil yourself. The codependency in your last relationship was abnormal and it’s time that you realize it. I feel like this person took the light away from you and you’re slowly but surely gaining your power back. Your energy is similar to Pile One but I feel like the focus for you is to empower yourself. Adopt the mindset that things will work out for you. Assuming the worst possible outcome is going to work for you. You have to let yourself shine because no one is dimming your light anymore. Surround yourself with positivity and please please please make sure you’re around people that make you feel comfortable and like yourself. Right now is a crucial time for you. Treat it as such.

Cards Used: 6 of Discs, 9 of Discs, King of Discs, Princess of Wands, 8 of Wands, 4 of Cups, The Magician (RX), The Hanged Man, The World, The Emperor, Ace of Wands, 3 of Cups.

extras: “party hard.” tiger print. mr rogers. sofia the first. birthday pin. red dot.

Pile Three: I feel like this pile has to get their body in check. Have you been having physical health problems as of lately? I feel like you need to see a doctor. I am getting the image of someone with a fever getting their temperature checked. It’s almost summertime, this shouldn’t be happening! So first things first, take your Vitamin C. Once you take care of your physical health, you should affirm that everything will be okay. Expose yourself to new places, people and things. Take a getaway trip for the weekend, maybe longer. I think you should also write affirmations on post-its and put them up around your house. I feel like this pile went through a mutual break up but it still hurts. This will sound weird but you’ve been through worse so this shouldn’t break you, lol. I think that’s your spirit guides way of saying to stay optimistic about your situation. There’s an advantage in your situation. You will find more things to laugh about when it comes to your situation. Another thing that I suggest that you do is remove your ex’s energy; their clothes, pictures of them, any and everything. Get it out!

Cards Used: 4 of Discs, Temperance, Queen of Cups, Princess of Swords, 2 of Swords, 5 of Swords (RX), The Sun, 6 of Discs, The Star, Ten of Cups, Queen of Discs

extras: cameras flashing. candied yams. apples and oranges. dominoes pizza. hot flashes. quince.

Pile Four: I’m not going to lie, it may be time for you to consider taking the extra step to getting your mental health in check. If you have been feeling like ending it all, then please talk to a psychiatrist. They may prescribe you with medication. I feel like you need that extra boost. Shit feels stagnant with this group. It’s all about personal accountability with you guys. Yes, it sucks to have your heart broken but how will you fix it? How will you recover? I think you should get in touch with your family. It’s been a minute since you talked to them, hasn’t it? You might feel like they will mock you for going through it or say “I told you so” but they won’t. They’ll be angry about the fact that you were cheated on & manipulated. You were too good and too pretty for your ex, Pile Four. Any plans that you had with them are gone and it’s time to accept that. You may have a hard time moving on but it’s best that you are supported by those who have your best interest at heart. You absolutely can do it. Turn your pain into art. Make music, write poetry, draw something. Do anything to keep your energy moving and flowing. You should also get physical. I channeled Dua Lipa’s song for you as well. So get in the gym & build your physique, begin a cardio routine, just do it!!!

Cards Used: 6 of Cups, Ten of Discs, King of Wands (RX), The Empress, The Star, Death, 9 of Discs (RX), Ten of Swords, The Chariot (RX).

extras: agent of chaos. black ops. nike. “that’s not my forte.” acting. self-righteous. fake smile. eye bend.

#law of assumption #manifesting #neville goddard #hoodoo #tarot #tarotreading #astro notes #pick a card #pick a pile #divination #tarot community #tarot tumblr #tarot witch #free tarot #daily tarot #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot deck #tarotcommunity #spirituality #tarotblr #kpop tarot #tarot pac #pick a reading #tarot pick a card #pac reading #tarot pull #intuitive readings #black tarot readers #channeled reading

[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Five

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Angst, implied SA, Tamlin and Amarantha are mentioned, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairings: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel’s off on a mission, so you train with Cassian. Upon returning, the Spymaster doesn’t like seeing you with his brother.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Prologue - One - Two - Three - Four

The next morning, you were up early but no one was there for breakfast with you. And instead of Azriel, Cassian was in the training ring. “Oh… is Azriel not here today?” You asked.

“He’s got some spying to do, so I’ll keep up with your training.” He said.

Of course Azriel wouldn’t want to keep training you along with his spying. He had so many more important things to do than babysit an amateur Shadowsinger. And it was very apparent from the training session yesterday that you didn’t know nearly as much as him.

“You ready? Or do you need to stare off into the distance for a little longer?” Cassian said and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I’m ready, Commander.” You teased, getting in the position he started with the warm ups.

Cassian was more brutal than Azriel was, enough so that you were thinking Azriel was going easy on you. The prick. Cass made you sit in squats for longer, balance with your wings stretched out or tucked in more. It was all you could do by the end of it to not fall down the stairs to the House.

“Az said to give you these.” Cassian said and handed you a basket, your muscles groaning at the extra weight. “Said something about an owing you a massage when he got back.”

Your eyes widened and face flushed before you heard Cassian let out a loud chuckle. “You’re almost as bad as him.” He said and laughed. “For spies, you sure don’t hold back when you get embarrassed.” Cass said and winked at you before going to the dining room.

You set the basket in your room, opting to take a bath first before you went to the dining room to dig into the roast that was waiting for you. Then, you went to the library to start on your research into the Cauldron.

You never saw Gwyn. Though Rhys told you that the new priestesses normally took a while to adjust before being out of their dorms. What happened to her just yesterday made your stomach turn… and you couldn’t imagine how horrible it must have been for her to wake up today in a new place. You’d have to ask Clotho how she was doing when you got the chance.

You didn’t learn anything new about the Cauldron, but you brought more books up to the personal library to read more.

You still wondered how Feyre was doing with Tamlin. You remember when Rhys told you the story of what Tamlin’s family did to Rhys’s mother and sister. And how Tamlin himself had killed Rhys’s father. Hearing about the rage that Tamlin held that day… you’d hope it had changed. You’d hoped that Feyre was happy with him, and that he would treat her well. Still, the thought of Feyre with him was unsettling to you. You couldn’t figure it out, and your shadows seemed to be just as disturbed by it whenever it came to your mind.

As you read into the night, waiting to see if you heard Azriel come back, you couldn’t help as your mind wander to how lucky you were that you ended up here after Amarantha died. How you found friends that seemed to care about you, and a High Lord that didn’t just want to use you for his own bidding, but wanted you around because he trusted you. You could get used to calling Velaris, in all its beauty, your home. And these new friends your family.

Azriel didn’t come back to the House of Wind for two weeks. Cassian had taken up your training, and you were already learning how to handle a sword (with the wooden practice ones) when Azriel watched you both from the steps.

He had been searching for the other parts of the Cauldron, ordering his spies to find out anything they could about what Hybern planned to do with it. And he only figured out that Hybern had Jurian’s eye and finger bone. Someone had snuck it off of Amarantha’s body before Tamlin killed her. He still couldn’t find out how, or who.

Seeing you work with Cassian strained something in him. A desire to be around you, or the jealousy that Cass was training you and he wasn’t. Azriel couldn’t tell what it was. Either way, he was almost proud to see you doing so well. What took most young Illyrian’s years to master, you had seem to do it in two weeks. All while taking flying lessons with Cassian as well. Cass told him that you were doing great with all of it. Better than any male he’s trained, actually. And you took it in stride too. Doing everything that Cassian threw at you. He even loaded a pack on your chest two days ago and had you fly up and down the mountain for two hours. You were almost ready to throw the pack at him by the end of it. But you knew it was to build up your strength. If you were going to be carrying Illyrian blades and a bow, you would need it.

Azriel knew you could do good. From the moment you agreed to train, he knew you had the motivation in you to do it. Whether it be from hate of what your family did to you, or from dedication to not let it happen again, he knew you would do it. He wanted to be the one to train you. He wanted to see that dedication every day. He hadn't seen an Illyrian learn so fast in a long time, and he knew it was a testament to an underlying power that brewed within you. That his shadows whispered to him about.

And yet, he took the first mission Rhys offered. There was something about you that pulled his attention every time you were in the room. And he couldn’t place it. His shadows wouldn’t tell him anything. And your few shadows that danced around his ankles up to his hands and neck whenever he was close to you drove him crazy. It’s like he couldn’t get enough of you but also didn’t want to get too close. He couldn’t handle getting close and you pushing him away. Or going for another male like Rhys or Cass. Like Mor had done when she chose Cassian over him. And then never acknowledged him more than a close friend. Family. Nothing like he wanted. He may have given up on her a long time ago, but sometimes it still stung.

So he took the mission to keep his distance. No matter the tug he felt when he was around you. He fought it. And kept his thoughts and emotions about you to himself.

“Azriel!” He heard your voice say, followed by a yelp when Cassian hit your stomach with the butt of the sword.

“Really, Cass?” You growled and nudged him away before jogging over to Azriel. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. Where have you been?” You asked, catching your breath.

“We’re not done!” Cassian yelled at you, but you simply stared at Azriel, waiting for an answer.

All Azriel could do was trail his eyes up the leathers you were wearing. The way they clung to your curves. The way they were already filled out much more than they were that first training day. Your hair was in a braid, but little wisps if it were out, clinging to your forehead with sweat.

“Azriel?” You asked again, not shifting under his stare like you had before. Training like this with Cassian had made you much more confident. Like you were before Amarantha came and tore your life apart. You still didn’t want to admit how much those 50 years effected you. Even if they were still recent. You wanted to put them in the past and not think about them any more that you were required. And luckily, no one had asked you much after the first day of telling them your story.

Cassian bounded over, patted Azriel on the shoulder in a way of greeting, and then picked you up over his shoulder.

“Cassian!” You yelled and clenched your fists. “Put me down,” you ground out.

“No chance, you are still training. And no pretty boy is going to distract you. Got it?” He asked and you grumbled. “Got it?” He asked again.

“Yes! Cauldron… Now put me down before I start clawing your wings.” You said firmly. He set you down back in the middle of the training ring and handed you the sword you discarded.

“What’s the number one rule I taught you about your weapon?” He asked.

“The pointy end goes away from you?” You remarked, earning a swipe of his own sword, which you blocked. “Don’t drop it in the middle of a fight without a purpose.” You said and knocked his sword back.

Azriel watched as you bantered with Cassian almost as seamlessly as you fought. At one point, you had Cassian so speechless and stunned that you were able to knock his sword from his hand. It was at that point that Cassian knocked you from your feet, your sword clattering much farther away from you than his. Cass always did want to be the one to win the battle.

It was everything Azriel could do to not go and help you out. Or coach you on how to get out from under him. Especially since Cassian was much larger than you. Not to mention better trained.

He must have been feeling generous, or you got the drop on him (probably the former) because you were able to use his weight against him and flip the two of you over so you were on top. Straddling his hips, your hands mere inches from the tips of his wings. Panting.

“Rhys wants us in the dining room for lunch.” Azriel called out, knowing that Rhys would wait. And if he really wanted you all to meet, he could speak mind-to-mind easily. But Azriel couldn’t stand to see you in that position with Cassian. And he couldn’t stop himself for imagining him under you instead. He quickly turned on his heel and vanished with his shadows back to his room.

“Just when it was getting fun.” You joked as you stood up and held out a hand for Cassian, who let out a booming laugh.

“Keep saying things like that and Az might slice me to bloody ribbons.” He joked and you shrugged.

“I doubt it. He doesn’t seem too interested in me.” You said as you grabbed a glass of water and downed it. “And if he is, he sure has a weird way of showing it. He ignored me the whole first month, trained me one day, and then disappeared on a two week mission. And he’s still ignoring me.” You muttered and downed another glass of water.

“Hmm… let’s show him what he’s missing, then,” Cass said and slung an arm around your shoulder, avoiding your wings. Your shadows curled away slightly from his touch. Not in a bad way, but in a way that didn’t happen with Azriel. They always curled around him. Even if he wasn’t touching you, but in the same room. You always tacked it up to him being a Shadowsinger himself, and maybe it was comforting for your shadows to have someone else to cling to. You still barely knew how the things worked. Even after having them around for a hundred years.

You knew how to hide in them, how to listen and talk to them, how to winnow with them. But not much else. It was still a hassle most of the time when you wanted to control them. So if a few of your shadows wanted a more experienced singer to cling to, you were more than willing to let them. For a little while. You still liked your shadows. If you ever had to go without them, you wouldn’t know what to do. Wouldn’t have the comforting feel of them whirling your ankles and wings. Throughout your hair.

“Come out with us tonight.” Cassian said once you made it down the stairs.

You looked up at his towering form and rose your eyebrows. “Where?” You asked. Even the first month of you here, you didn’t go out with them. You didn’t go into the city much either, barely even visited the town home. You didn’t want to impose on it just yet. And it was too many people who would be watching your every move. Like they did when you worked for her. So you stayed in the House. And you liked it. Plus, you started to see Gywn around the library, not speaking to anyone, but at least she was out of her dorm.

“To Rita’s. I know Mor would love it. She’s been complaining that you didn’t come last week.” He said and you smiled a bit. You quite liked the female. She was bright and full of energy. And she didn’t take shit from the boys. And barely took it from Amren, who still scared you enough to not meet her eye.

“I don’t have much to wear.” You said, Cassian cringing as you both heard a yelp from down the stairs to the dining room.

“Did I hear that we’re going shopping?” Mor said and bounded over to the bottom of the stairs, bouncing on her heels.

“I didn’t say that.” You teased as you stepped down beside her.

“Oh, please? I’ll help you pick out the perfect outfit.” She said and nudged you. You winced a bit, still sore from the training. Your braid was still a mess. But you didn’t care, you were starving and just wanted to eat. Even if you looked ridiculous.

As if reading your thoughts, your shadows swirled around your head, either covering or smoothing your hair, you couldn’t tell. Either way, you silently thanked them.

“Hmm.. fine. But I would prefer to go when it’s not too crowded…” you said and she gave you a knowing look. As if she too knew what it was like to want to hide away. You weren’t sure how she would ever feel like that. You figured she got more energy from being around people, new people, than anyone else. Where as for you… well you learned to like your solitude. Probably from the years you spent locked in your cabin while your family went to train. And then the years following that was spent in a village with no more than 50 inhabitants.

“So you’ll come out with us tonight?” Cassian asked as you entered the dining room with them.

Shrugging again, you answered, “Sure. Though if people start asking me to do party tricks with my shadows, I’m leaving.” You said and rolled your shoulders back, tucking in your wings.

“Trust us, they won’t. Not when Az is the only Shadowsinger they knew and he once stabbed someone for looking at him the wrong way.” Mor joked and you furrowed your eyebrows. Even though Azriel was a little cold to you, you could tell he was kind. Especially with the way this family acted with him.

“He was 38 and we were recovering from the war, remember?” Rhys added from his spot at the table. “And that was in Hewn. Everyone in Hewn would be stabbed if they looked at Az the way that male did.” He mentioned and then leaned back. He didn’t have his wings out today, so you figured this was a business lunch more than a formal one. They had all mainly been away, or you’d been I’m your room burying your nose in the books on the Cauldron. Or they had been meeting in the town home. Definitely not around you.

Soon you were all settled, Azriel appearing before the meal was served and sitting next to Rhys and Amren. Cassian was on your right, and Mor on your left. That left the other three across from you. It felt like someone was missing from the table, but as you counted around, you knew that was everyone.

After you had all ate a couple bites (Amren pushing her food around like always), Rhys looked up, setting his utensils down. “Cassian, I need you to go to Windhaven.” Rhys said. “See how the army is coming along. And if the females are being trained properly.” He said, then looked at you. “And I would prefer if you went along.” He said.

“Just with Cassian? Don’t you need to introduce me as emissary?” You asked and Rhys shook his head.

“Cass is the commander of my armies. If he says they’re to listen to you, they will.” Rhys said and you rose your eyebrows. You knew Illyrians. And you knew that wasn’t true. You also knew that Rhys knew it too. But you weren’t going to push, so you nodded.

“How long do you want me there?” Cassian asked.

“Two weeks, and then you can come back in time for the Solstice.” He said. “We’ll spend it in the townhome.”

“You think Devlon is ready for another Shadowsinger?” Azriel piped in.

“The question is, do you think Devlon is ready for the first female Shadowsinger?” Cassian asked.

You hummed. “I think you all need to be asking if Devlon is ready for me. I’m not just a Shadowsinger, you know.” You said, crossing your arms. “And I think the answer is no. Devlon used to be a friend of my father’s. He very might well faint when he recognizes me to be the daughter of Rechard Vash.” You stated and smirked.

“I like how you think, girl.” Amren said and leaned back in her chair, her arm draped over the arm of it. “I say Devlon has whatever is coming to him from her,” she said as she looked at Rhys.

He only chuckled as he went back to eating. “Was that it?” You asked and leaned forward. “Or should I leave so you can discuss what Azriel learned on that mission?” You asked.

None of them stiffened at your tone, or the implication that they didn’t trust you.

“I merely wanted to finish my food,” Rhys said with an easy smile. “But if you’re eager to learn about what the Spymaster learned, go ahead Az.” He said and took another bite of the roast.

“I didn’t learn anything useful,” Azriel said. “Well, other than that there are two pieces of the Cauldron missing and I still have no clue where the third one is. Though, it’s probably in a temple.” He said. “Hopefully here. If it’s in another Court… that’ll be harder to detect.” He finished.

“I never thought you’d be one to be down on yourself,” you said, taking a bite of vegetables. “Sounds like you learned quite a lot.”

Once again, he ignored you and looked at Rhys. “Any chance I can go back to Sangravagh and examine it again?” He asked and Rhys waved his hand. “Go where you need to, but I still have one more thing to ask of you when we’re done with lunch.” He said.

As much as you wanted to slump into your chair, you stayed still as you ate. You didn’t know what you did wrong to have Azriel act so indifferent towards you. Of all the Inner Circle, you thought you would bond with him the most. Being a Shadowsinger… it wasn’t easy. It was rare and the looks that you got. The burdens that you had to carry. You figured only he would understand. But he didn’t even try to speak to you.

And it continued into the night, after you went shopping with Mor. She even had Rhys’s in-house tailor fix all the clothing so your wings would fit seamlessly around them. All in time to go to Rita’s.

A/N: This is a fun little chapter with some of Az’s pov - a little longer than the rest. When the IC + our reader goes to Rita's in the next chapter... I think you'll enjoy it!!

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[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Eula with a reader that’s full of kindness

characters: Eula x gn!reader

warnings: none

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Eula

There weren’t all too many people in Mondstadt that were ready to lend someone like Eula not only an ear, but even went so far as to offer her kindness and friendship from the beginning. And yet you did.

Eula wasn’t proud of saying this, but she couldn’t help but be very suspicious at first, trying to keep you an extra arms length away from her, trying to figure out your motive for trying to cozy up to her the way you did, only to find… nothing. Once she noticed that there was no secret scheme of yours however, she started to also notice how your kindness wasn’t just limited to her. And before she knew it, she started to appreciate it more than she probably had any legitimate reason to.

It was cold, snow was falling from the skies and covering every inch of surface as far as the eye could see. It didn’t take any kind of magical heat vision to see her own breaths every few seconds. And still, you were nowhere to be found. Did you stand her up? No, that was impossible, not even someone as cynical as her could believe you breaking your promise. Probably got yourself into some sort of weird situation again…

Just as she finished her thought however, you appeared in her vision, hurrying over towards her with your hands pressed between your armpits.

“I hope you didn’t have to wait long, Eula. I… met an old acquaintance”, you lied as obviously as you shivered, an uneasy smile on your lips that made her want to groan. As the weather got colder, you managed to bump into old acquaintances more and more frequently, only for your gloves, scarves and other winter wear to coincidentally go missing.

It didn’t take a master detective to figure out what was going on, and frankly, Eula felt a bit insulted you thought you’d fool her for even a second.

“Which made you so busy that you forgot to bring along gloves, I see”, she stated, her sarcasm not exactly subtle and yet all you did was awkwardly smile at her. Dear Gods, what was she going to do with you?

“Just because you grew up in a wealthy household doesn’t mean you can just gift your stuff to whoever you see. Or did you forget your family is far from affluent now?”, Eula gave you a brief lecture, before letting out a sigh and pulling off her right glove, holding it out to you.

"Put this on.”

Just as you were about to protest about how her own hand was going to get cold however, she shut you up by grabbing yours, keeping both of them warm.

“Let’s go, we don’t have all day.”

#eula #eula x reader #eula x y/n #eula lawrence x reader #eula lawrence #eula imagines #genshin x reader

[writingonleaves]

were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? (did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?) - jeremy swayman

pairing: jeremy swayman x original female character

warnings: swearing, pretty angsty. hopeful ish ending because i can't do sad endings, very personal but i think many can relate in their own way, cliche ish, barely proofread

inspired by + title: "the smallest man who ever lived" by taylor swift

word count: 5.6k

author's note: i'd argue almost every piece any author writes is personal, because it has their life interspersed through the words. but this one really is, because a majority of this is the exact same words i wrote years ago after a break-up. heard the bridge to this song and immediately knew i had to write something inspired by it. also trying a new format of sorts (maybe a bit meta??), so i hope you enjoy and lmk what you think!!

~*~*~

When Noelle Betsko walked away from Jeremy Swayman, holding back tears until the call dropped, she knew it was going to be a tough time for the foreseeable future. 

It didn’t matter that the pandemic had forced them apart. She knew she would still feel him for months to come.

She did the only thing she knows how to do when trying to deal with things. The one thing she always resorts to as an aspiring novelist. Sometimes on her laptop when the words were spilling out too quickly for her brain to catch up, tears littering the keyboard. Usually in her old beat-up journal, scribbling in the cursive that Jeremy claimed he always loved (“It makes your handwriting unique”) with the pens he had gifted her just a few months prior. 

At the age of 21, Noelle got her heart broken for the first time. At the age of 26, she’s about to publish her first poetry collection of sorts, all of the poems modeled after journal entries written throughout her life. So not really poetry, though her mother would say otherwise. 

She swallows as she thumbs through the middle part of the first known and binded copy of “miscellaneous.” There are only eight entries in the whole collection that are taken verbatim from her past writing. These are the eight.

May 13, 2020 (three days post-breakup, crying in my childhood bedroom)

I don’t even recognize who I was and who you were in those writings before these pages filled with love and hope and happiness. I can’t even summon up those feelings anymore that I knew existed at one point. Those feelings of complete bliss and love for someone so deep you can’t explain it. 

I’m mad at myself for not being able to conjure those feelings, because at one point, I did love you. How could something that was part of my daily life for over two years just disappear so quickly? 

But now, I’m not mad at myself. I’m mad, but I don’t know where to direct that anger to. I feel a bit empty sometimes, but then frustrated the next. Sometimes I get sad, but not so much compared to the other feelings. I spent enough time being sad during our relationship.

When we broke up, on an annoyingly beautiful Tuesday in May — over the damn phone, mind you, which whatever, it’s COVID. Fine — You told me you felt like you had been putting more effort into us. 

At the time, I didn’t react, but I’ve been thinking about how angry that statement made me. Makes me, actually. I was always very open with how much I gave to that relationship. How much it meant to me. How much it affected me. But I understand that with some people, sharing everything too much equates to things not meaning anything anymore. But you out of all people should’ve known that I mean everything I say.

I felt like I gave so much. I know I gave so much. When I told you I loved you, I always meant it. Every single time. When I told you I missed you, I always meant it. I wished you were right next to me at that moment. I mentally gave so much, because to me, I wanted to. You were always on my mind, always high up on my list of priorities. I never took us for granted.

I’ve been questioning if that was the same for you. Did you start becoming complacent?

The second thing you said that day that hasn’t left my head is that you knew me pretty well. And initially, I remember not thinking much of it. So I don’t doubt that; you always knew right when I was about to cry, even over the phone. You often knew when I was mad or upset, but when I look back now, you never pushed. Which is a good thing, to an extent. But it was a bad thing sometimes too. I knew you often wanted to give me space, but sometimes I didn’t want space. I wanted you to push. To try to understand. Maybe that’s unfair of me; it probably is. I should just say I want to talk about it more, right? 

But if you genuinely knew me, you would’ve known.

After two years, seven months and 12 days,  I still feel like I didn’t know you. Did I ever know you at all?

When people talked shit about you, I always defended you. And I still would defend you now. But lately, I've questioned what I’m even defending. All those good qualities that I thought you had, were they even real? Of course, I know some of them were, to a certain extent. But as I look back on us, there’s a lot of doubt about whether I even knew the person I called my boyfriend for so long. I know there was a point where you cared about me, but I can’t remember when. 

I often felt like I was letting you know so much about my life, but you didn’t do the same. I get that sometimes a person just wants to forget about the bad and focus on the good with a person you like for awhile. I get that. But once that was happening every damn time? That should’ve been a red flag. 

June 7, 2020 (twenty eight days post break-up, outside my childhood room on the deck) 

I don’t understand how you can give so much to something or someone and have it not be recognized or appreciated or enough. If I wasn’t enough for you, how will I be enough for anyone?

I hope one day you’ll truly understand how much this hurt. Not just the breakup, but feeling like I was always being pulled in a direction I didn’t always want to be pulled in. Feeling I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and never ever being able to win. I hate that I settled so much in the last year. Because I should’ve demanded more, even though deep down I knew you were never going to be able to give it to me.

I think back to our past daily texts, and I just don’t get it. At one point, we both meant the things we said to each other. 

Yet we still hurt each other. 

This fucking hurts.

You’ve hurt me so much, but most of it wasn’t intentional, which I think is somewhat even worse. Because I’m not totally mad at you for causing the pain. You never did anything outright to cause me pain, but I still feel like you did. 

Unintentional pain almost stings more than intentional. 

When I asked you out that night after we were both on an emotional high, I took a chance. For once in my life, I took the leap, knowing that I could get humiliated or hurt or just straight up shot down. 

Where did it all go wrong? Or, more realistically, how did we think that we could go through the wrong when it was there at the start?

I’m trying not to blame myself too much. Trying not to tell myself that I should’ve known better. 

All those times, especially at the start, when I would ask you if you genuinely liked me, you always thought I was just trying to be annoying. But you never understood that I genuinely thought that way. My self confidence from the start was lacking, and you didn’t try to understand that, because I come across to everyone as confident and self-assured. 

It hurt, when you would brush things off like that. I felt like you didn’t care.

And then, it got to the point where I stopped asking that question. Part of that is because I did become more confident and you did show that you cared, and part of that was because I knew it would piss you off.

The amount of things I was scared to talk about with you because I knew it would piss you off? I don’t wish that feeling on anybody.

I shouldn’t have been scared. I shouldn’t have been uncomfortable. But I was. And if you did notice like sometimes you claimed to, why didn’t you make it more comfortable for me? Was that too much to ask for? 

So larger than life that at the end, you faded into just the smallest man who ever lived. Fuck you.

Was it too much to ask for when I just wanted to know why you were upset? You didn’t have to ever tell me the full story (lord knows there were times I didn’t), but was it too much to ask for something? You told me once that I’m the person you’ve told the most to. How? You barely told me anything. And when I wanted to talk to you, whether it was about growing up in Alaska or why you were in a bad mood last night, you always brushed it off. Always. 

So I don’t feel so bad about feeling like I gave more effort. I gave so much of myself to you. If you really cared about me like you claimed you did, why couldn’t you show even just 1% of that care back? Or just meet me in the middle?

I could’ve tried harder to meet you in the middle, I’ll admit that. But you didn’t even give me a map or a clue how to. 

I felt so fucking left in the dark. I felt left in the dark about my own fucking relationship, something that I should be completely sure about. If you really love someone and care about them, how can you leave them in the dark? How could you not even see that I was struggling to find a flashlight?

You did care about me. I know that. To some extent and at some point in time, you did care about me. But caring about someone and their well-being isn’t always enough.

Why couldn’t you have worked with me? When I was extending my hand out, why didn’t you reach for it? How can someone just be so blind? I mean, I’m practically always spelling it out for you. 

Maybe I am being selfish. But fuck, I just wanted to be happy. At some point, you made me happy. When did I start making you feel like I wasn’t enough? Why wasn’t I enough for you?

It’s useless, in a way, to keep going about this. Because I know I deserve better. And we’ll both find people who are better for us. We just couldn’t be that person to each other.

I fucking loved you.

I wish it ended differently.

July 8, 2020 (fifty nine days post-breakup, in front of the lake)

I really really fucking miss you. 

I do. 

I miss being able to text you that i love you and not necessarily expecting a response until the next morning. I miss knowing that as soon as you wake up, you’ll text me back and assure me that yeah, you love me too. 

I’m left feeling bittersweet as I look back on memories that are just splashes and not definite strokes on the canvas that used to be us.

I miss having you as a friend. 

I’ve been having more urges lately to want to text you. And it isn’t even anything important. Just moments I experience throughout the day.

Do you get the urge to do the same?

July 19, 2020 (seventy days post-breakup, still in the same damn house)

It’s hard. It really is. And it kinda just hits you at random parts of the day. Sometimes I wake up from a dream that you were in and have to remind myself that it didn’t happen. 

Sometimes it physically aches when I realize that you won’t ever help me put on my jacket again, or complain that my hair is in your face when we’re lying on the couch watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, or groan when I drag you up to dance with me (which you never improved on, no matter how many times I tried to teach you basic rhythm). I can’t view our song the same way anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. 

The other day, I read some simple thing on Twitter. I don’t even remember what it was, but I do remember that for a split second, I could see your smile in my mind. But it wasn’t just any smile. It was the smile you gave me when you took me ice skating that first time. I remember asking you what you were smiling at, and you said that you just were taking in this moment. I don’t know if you took a mental picture that day, but I know I did. That day seems so long ago now. 

In almost anything I do, you somehow pop into my mind or into the conversation. And it’s not even in a harmful way either. It’s because you were part of my life for so long. I see a dog on the street, and it reminds me of how you always stopped to pet every single one we’s see I write something in my messy handwriting, and I remember how you always used to complain that you couldn’t read the notes I’d occasionally leave around your place when you went away. I went to the doctor’s the other day, and they said I was 5 feet and 3 inches, which is just definitely not true, and I almost reached for my phone to text you, because you would’ve cackled and insisted that no, I’m 5 feet 2 inches and it wouldn’t even matter because I’ll always be shorter than you. It’s simple and minute things that make me miss you that much more.

I still can’t listen to some songs the same way anymore, but I can at least listen to them now, which is a feat in itself. I was unpacking from college and found the teddy bear you sent me the first extended time we had to be apart and had to immediately put that out of my sight. From those boxes also came photos that I had decorated my dorm room with, and to be honest, I’m glad now that I let you keep our best one. I deal with all my emotions, besides writing, by making Spotify playlists, and I made a new one earlier this week. I think it’s helping. It’s a slow process, this whole moving on thing, but it’s one that I’m trying to be grateful for, because like most things in life, you just don’t truly know until you go through it.

Sometimes, I find myself wondering how you are and how you’re healing. But, even though we’ve both changed since the day we met, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re incredibly strong and stubborn. I hope that you’re finding some growth in this process too. 

October 17, 2020 (one hundred fifty seven days post-break up, apartment in orono)

It’s been almost 5 months, and you still cross my mind everyday. 

Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why didn’t you fucking tell me what you were thinking? Why was I the one who had to approach you just because I was just so done with the silent treatment?

But I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. The mad phase passed ages ago. 

Closure is a fake word. Even a breakup as mutual and smooth as ours was still left me with so many questions that will probably never be answered. 

Any breakup fucks you up to some extent. I knew it was going to mess me up even back when we were together. But not like this. Never like this. 

But like anything in life, I guess you can never really prepare for what you think you might feel, because most of the time, you discover a whole new side of you that you never thought existed. 

I don’t miss you. I don’t. I don’t feel that love in any way anymore. 

But I did once.

You did too, right?

November 15, 2020 (one hundred eighty six days post break-up, fogler library)

I hate Halloween. 

Though, it did bring me to you three years ago. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you right then and there. 

Three years later, you texted me on Halloween, five months after our breakup. The universe really, really wanted to fuck with me. 

It was a tough night for you. I knew that. Because I know how you are after losing a game you should’ve won. But that didn’t mean that I owed you anything and had to respond. 

We agreed on no contact if we ever wanted to stay friends. Clearly, friends is out of the picture now, but come on. A vulnerable text after a bad night because you know I would feel bad for you?

Fuck, you know how much I would hate that. You had to have known. 

Just because we’re not dating anymore doesn’t mean that everything about you just disappears. I still know your tendencies. I still know exactly how my head burrows into your chest during a hug. I still know the actions I used to do that would be followed by you attacking me with a hug. I still could point you out in a crowd. 

I looked for you in every crowd for years. 

That stuff doesn’t just go away, no matter how much I want it to. But fuck. Fuck. Why did you text me? 

I don’t regret how I handled it. I probably would’ve responded months ago. But just like you, I’ve grown these last couple of months. 

It was comforting, for a split second, to know that maybe, just maybe, these past couple of months have been hard for you too. It makes me feel human. It makes me feel like I’m not crazy.

I’m glad you texted me. You gave me another level of closure I hadn’t known that I needed until then. 

But fuck, dude. You know me better than that. You should know me better than that. 

I hate Halloween.

November 26, 2020 (one hundred ninety seven days, at the coffee shop i brought you to when you came home with me two years ago)

I don’t regret loving you, but I hate you for what you did to me. 

Or maybe not. 

I hate knowing that even though we haven’t been in a relationship in a bit, it feels like sometimes, you’re on my mind the exact same amount when we were dating. I hate knowing that I gave so much of myself and my love to you, and it always felt unrecognized. 

Fuck, will it ever stop hurting? Will I ever be able to have to stop myself from thinking about you? Will it ever stop?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy it.

June 12, 2021 (three hundred ninety five days post-break up, in boston, visiting a friend)

Tonight, when a friend asked me about you and how I felt about how we ended, I was able to articulate my thoughts clearly. I’m really proud of myself for getting to a point where I can take the lessons I learned the few months after we broke up and acknowledge them in a succinct way without breaking down into tears. Just watery eyes and the occasional voice crack 

I’m also proud that I can say that when we were dating, I lost a bit of myself. For months, it was really hard to admit out loud.

I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Sometimes, I wish I could call or text you about it, because I think you’d be proud too. And I know I’d be proud of you. I am, to be honest. I do break resolve once in awhile and check on you through various avenues.

I still haven’t seen you in person since the last time COVID made us say goodbye. Maybe I never will again. But day by day, I’m starting to accept that and be okay with it. I’m accepting that memories that used to be so painted in my mind are blurry or almost completely erased now. But that’s okay. Honestly, it’s probably for the best. 

I wonder, when you think about it, if you think about different moments that I do. That’s the thing when something ends. You have to be okay with letting go of those moments and realizing that just because you forget them, doesn’t mean they weren’t important. 

I don’t think I miss you. I hesitate in saying that. Because I’ve moved on and handled the aftermath of it better than I think both of us ever thought I could. When you hung up the phone for the last time, I proved to myself again that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. I think we all are. But we don’t realize it until we’re thrown into a situation that we think we’ll never be able to overcome. 

But we do. Whether it’s because we’re forced to because there’s no other option, it doesn’t matter. Because we get through. We move on. 

I hope you're moving on. 

And then it goes into other topics, graduating during a pandemic specifically and losing what’s supposed to be your last year of no responsibilities before adulthood. There are other poems in here that reference a past relationship, but not as much as these eight. 

If there’s one thing that Noelle did change, it was taking out the details. Jeremy may have hurt her, but he doesn’t deserve someone possibly making a connection between these poems and their shared background. She’s not a famous author by any means, but she wanted to be careful.

Not that she makes that part of her life publicly known. People don’t need to know that her brother was Jeremy’s captain for two years at Maine and that’s how they met. 

Noelle grew up going to rinks. She hasn’t gone to one since they broke up. 

But also, what the fuck? It’s been five years since she’s dated the guy. She really is over it by now, even if his rise to stardom in the Bruins flittering on her social media feeds still sometimes has her swallowing a bit before she can continue with her day. 

Brooklyn is far enough from Boston. But sometimes it feels like it’s right outside her door. 

She’s proud of her first published work. She really is. People believed in her and after numerous notes swapped back and forth with her editor, she did it. She always knew she wanted to work in publishing. She never knew she herself would publish anything.

And here she is now, two weeks after the book release, in Boston, about to do a q&a and a signing. Apparently, “miscellaneous” has been on top of numerous lists and it’s flying off the shelves. Noelle can’t really believe it and tries not to think about it too much, trusting her agent with all of that. 

She’s happy to talk about her work and process though. That she can handle. And she’s grateful for all the love.

After a signing at a local bookstore, she decides to walk the 20 minutes home in the Boston fall. It’s a bit brisk, but she doesn’t mind and she just wanders, belly filled with delicious sushi she inhaled for dinner with an old friend.

Of course it happens the one time during her walk when she doesn’t avoid eye contact with someone. The song playing in her earbuds fade out of her focus and she almost stumbles. 

Jeremy’s eyes were always Noelle’s favorite thing about him. She thought she would’ve forgotten what they looked like by now. But clearly she hasn’t. 

Her eyes quickly cast to the person next to him. It’s definitely a girl. They’re a bit too far away for Noelle to pick out details. But it’s enough. He’s walking on the side closest to the street. It’s a Friday Night in a bustling part of the city. 

It hurts. She wishes it didn’t.

Even from far away, she sees his eyes blink in recognition. Noelle puts her head back down and walks faster. 

(She cries in the shower when she gets back to the hotel. She had debated feeling super sorry for herself and going to the hotel bar but refrained)

She has a few free days in Boston before flying back to New York. When she wakes up the next morning, she debates on going home early. But no, she won’t let a three second glance at someone ruin her time here. She used to occasionally come here during her college days. She loves this city. 

The city may be Jeremy’s, but she can make space for herself here too. 

She takes her time at a cafe, people watching and eating some breakfast. As she takes her coffee to-go, she looks out the window at the bookstore she was in the night before for the signing. She almost drops her coffee. 

Jeremy walks into the book store. 

Now, Noelle is debating her options. What she should do is continue with her day and walk in the opposite direction. But she’s always been too nosy for her own good. And maybe a bit self destructive. She decides to leave the cafe and cross the street immediately, so impatient to where she’s almost tapping her foot as the pedestrian signal stays red. 

As a writer, she’s no stranger to movie moments. The scenes written in books or movies where the timing is too accurate to be real. The situation too good to be true. But after a car speeds through an orange and she can finally walk, she stops in her tracks instead, feet glued down to the sidewalk.

Because Jeremy is right in front of her on the other side of the street. Her book in his hand. And he’s looking right at her. 

The first feeling she can recognize in herself is anger. Anger at the way their relationship panned out. Anger at the way they ended. Anger at the radio silence the years following. Anger at him for everything. Angry at herself for everything. 

The second feeling is, weirdly, shame, which she’s embarrassed by. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. But she feels it anyways. 

The third, and perhaps the most prominent, is emptiness. Five fucking years later, and she’s brought back to the emptiness she felt immediately after they broke up. The emptiness that the person you loved isn’t yours anymore — who maybe wasn’t ever yours to begin with. 

Before she can run, he’s already crossed the street to her. He looks naturally different as someone who you haven’t seen in five years would. But he also heartbreakingly looks the same. 

“We should get out of people’s way,” Noelle manages to chokes out. 

Jeremy laughs a bit. Her heart lurches. “Yeah.” He starts walking and she follows him wordlessly. This is his city after all. 

He leads them to a bench under a tree with beautiful fall foliage. She puts at least a foot between them as they both sit down, staring out at the people passing. She can’t take the silence. 

“I see you bought my book.”

“I did,” he replies evenly. “Congratulations. I always knew you would do it.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. Maybe if she squeezes hard enough she’ll forget when she originally pitched Jeremy the bare bones idea of the exact same book that’s currently in his hand. “Thank you. Congratulations to you too. On everything.”

“You’ve been watching?”

She shakes her head. “No. But, you know Seth and…yeah. It comes up during family calls sometimes.”

“Why didn’t you say hi last night?”

She looks pointedly at a couple walking their dog. “You seemed busy.”

“She wasn’t-that-it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh. Because that makes me feel so much better,” she spits out, before taking a deep breath. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We broke up ages ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she gives him a look and is slightly proud of how he seems to shrink into himself a bit. “I-I know it’s five years too late. I know I didn’t handle it as well as I should’ve. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

The thing is, Noelle always thought that maybe hearing an apology someday would make her feel better. But now that’s heard it, she’s not sure she does. 

She swallows. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ve already read it, you know.”

“Read what?”

Jeremy runs a hand through his hair. “Your book. One of my teammate’s girlfriend recommended it and I asked to borrow it. It’s fantastic,” He looks down at the book in his hand. It’s like the cover is taunting her. “I wanted my own copy.”

“Oh.” 

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me off the hook with the poems I know were about me,” he scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “You could’ve written way worse.”

She can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I thought I was pretty mean.”

“Your definition of ‘pretty mean’ is tame compared to a lot of people,” he says, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the book. “You were always the kindest person, even when you shouldn’t have been..” 

He puts his hand out in her direction, the hand with the book in it. She furrows her eyebrows. “What-”

“Could I get a signed copy?”

“Jeremy. What do you want from me?”

He sighs, taking his hand back. “A chance to apologize?”

“You’ve already done that.”

“Not in the way I want to and what you deserve.”

She lets out a sigh, turning to face him fully. “I don’t know if that would be worth my time or yours. I know the book just came out, but that was five years ago. I’m over it. Forgive and forget, right?”

“But do you?” Jeremy counters back. “Clearly, you don’t forget, which I deserve. But forgive?” 

“We’re just going in circles now.”

“No we’re not,” he says firmly. “You’re just shutting me down because you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had five years to prepare what I would say to you if I saw you again. You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Of course I have,” Noelle tips her head back. “But also, what’s the point?”

“The point, is that I still love you.”

“Fuck you,” she says in a strained voice. “You can’t just-you can’t just throw that shit out there. Fuck you.”

He bites his lip, and to her annoyance, he laughs. But she listens more carefully, and it sounds very self deprecating. “I deserved that.”

“Yeah,” Noelle looks down at her feet. “So…what? You still love me?”

“I do.”

“And what are you going to do about that?”

“What are you going to let me do?”

“I live in Brooklyn.”

“I know,” she whips her head up. Jeremy looks sheepish, which she didn’t even think was something he knew how to do. “Seth mentioned it when we caught up a bit ago. I also still follow you on Instagram.”

She tries again. “It’s been five years.”

“And I’m here sitting with you and still feel the exact same way I did back then. Even more, to be honest.” He eyes her pointedly. “Any more excuses?”

Her voice softens. “You really hurt me.”

“I know. And I’m so sorry, Noelle.”

“I hurt you too.”

He shrugs. “We were young and stupid.”

“And we’re still not?” Noelle says with a snort before swallowing. “I’m not the same person you fell in love with.”

“I’m sure I’m not either. But I don’t know if there’s a world where I don’t love every version of you.”

“Even after reading the book?”

“Especially after reading the book,” he sighs. “Noelle, I know this is unfair of me. All of this. And I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to reach out. But I always intended to. And then you’re here? And I see you twice in two days? I’d be an idiot to not try. More of an idiot than I am, anyways.”

“Try for what?”

“A second chance? To be friends? Whatever you want.” He suddenly deflates. “Even if you don’t want anything to do with me. At least I’ll know.”

“Why did you never text me?”

“I thought about it a lot,” he admits. “I tried once, actually, after the high of a really good win. But it didn’t go through. I got the message.”

“The message?”

“You blocked me, right?”

Oh. “Yeah,” she lies. “I did.” She reaches into her bag for a pen and gestures for the book, which he gives to her, a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’m in Boston for two more days, including today.”

He takes the hint immediately. Eagerly. “I have a game tonight, but I’m free tomorrow.”

“Who are you guys playing?”

“Toronto. And I’m starting. Should be a good one.”

She hums non-committedly, scribbling on the inside of the front cover. She hands it back to him with a small, close-lipped smile. She nods at him to read the message.

to my first fan, 

i still love you too. 

xxx-xxx-xxxx

yours, 

noelle

He looks up, eyes shining but a bit confused. 

“I never blocked you. I just changed my number.”

“Oh.”

“And even if I still love you, I’m still mad at you.”

“I know. I’d be more surprised if you weren’t.”

She stands up, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and putting her sunglasses on. “Text me?”

His mouth splits wide into a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

She backs away with one last attempt at a smile before turning down the street.

#k writes #hockey fanfiction #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl writing #hockey blurb #hockey writing #boston bruins #jeremy swayman #jeremy swayman blurb #jeremy swayman writing #jeremy swayman fic #jeremy swayman fanfiction #jeremy swayman x ofc #jeremy swayman x oc #jeremy swayman x reader

[haikyu-mp4]

hi omg i love your works sm !! each one is so cute and i love your dialogue for the characters 🫶 i've read most of them but i'll be going back to reread and reblog them bcos u deserve the love 🤍

i wanted 2 ask if ur requests were open ? it's okay if they aren't ofc !! but i had this idea earlier about dentist / orthodontist iwaizumi or oikawa ! and i've been looking thru the hq writers that i've reblogged from n u came up ! the idea is pretty broad but i was thinking more of a build up from patient-dentist (?) to lovers, smth like that ! idk if ure up for it then do ur magic but otherwise i hope u have a great day and i'm looking forward to reading more from u 💞💞💞

Unusual affection

thank you so much for your love!! I never wrote much AU before so this was such a fun idea and I hope I did it justice<3

word count; 1353 – gn!reader, dentist Oikawa AU, patient-dentist to lovers, suggestive

You're not so fond of going to the dentist. Luckily, your teeth didn’t give you many problems growing up, but your parents were urging you to get a check-up appointment after you moved away to a new city. Better to establish a dentist before the issues come up, they would say.

So you did, you made an appointment with dentist Oikawa Tooru and made your way to his office a few weeks later. His waiting list wasn’t exactly short. Not that you had to wonder why for long because…

that is one gorgeous man!

“You need to floss more regularly,” he added as if it just came naturally for him, which it probably did. You lay on the seat as he looked over all the basic stuff, rinsing and picking at your teeth. Unfortunately, you couldn’t see yourself attracting him very much with your mouth wide open and lips scrubbed dry already, so you just accepted your fate.

“I’m not really a dancer but I’ll try,” Oikawa stopped what he was doing and the swivel chair he sat on slowly turned towards you. That’s like something Makki would say, he thought. And that’s not a compliment.

“How old are you, 10?” he asked but quickly cleared his throat when the secretary seemed to eye him from her desk. She always said he shouldn’t have an attitude with customers.

“Some would say I’m a 10 out of 10!” you responded, joyfully watching as his patience wore thin. Oh, how fun to find cracks in that perfect exterior.

He sighed, shook his head, and turned back to the monitor. You started looking at the ceiling, counting the dots and lines in the ugly pattern until you lost count and started over. Is that a headache creeping up on you?

Finally, Oikawa rolled back over. You blinked a couple of times to shake off the view of the ceiling and actually focus on him. “Open.” Wouldn’t mind hearing him command you like that in another setting, you thought, suddenly avoiding eye contact again but still doing as he said. Dentists are not supposed to be this attractive. “Your wisdom teeth on this side, do they hurt?” he asked, pointing to the cheek he was referring to.

You thought about it, humming in thought. “Yes, especially after eating. Lots of food gets stuck in there too.”

“We can set up another appointment to get them removed,” he informed you. “It should be mostly covered by insurance if I say it’s necessary.”

You nodded, licking your lips as they felt so dry from his gloved hands running over them. “Will…” he was about to stand up but stopped for a moment to listen to you. “…you be doing that?”

A small humorous sound left his lips, and it sounded so melodic you were in a trance. “That could be arranged.”

Two weeks later, you’re back at the reception of your dentist's office, asking for Oikawa. You agreed to do the procedure with a local sedative, as you didn’t have that many close friends in this city yet that could pick you up, so two assistants were currently making sure you wouldn’t feel anything around your mouth for the next hours. Unfortunately, this called for you to stay quiet, and you were honestly just excited to see Dr. Hottie again.

Your prayers were answered, and after they left you to soak in the numb feeling in your mouth for about ten minutes, Oikawa walked through the door. “Hey there, little dancer.” he greeted you.

“Hi!” you cooed, but it sounded odd when you couldn’t feel your lips. You frowned, trying to look down at your lips for a moment before giving up. Oikawa clicked his tongue from where he watched you, shaking his head before putting gloves on. Everything he did seemed so elegant, but you had a sense there was a dorky side to him.

“It might hurt a bit, but just tap me if you need me to adjust, okay?” he informed you, looking into your eyes for an answer.

You nodded, sucking in a quick breath. His eyes were pretty. Swirly, like chocolate ice cream. “Yes, I got it.” You bit your top lip, sheepishly continuing. “My safeword is toothbrush.”

Oikawa seemed to chuckle under his breath, he hesitated to humour you but still gave in. “Good to know. I was half expecting a stupid joke about tap dancing.” he hummed before picking up the first tool he needed and swiftly getting to it. It wasn’t very fortunate, to have him stare at your face as your cheeks flushed red, but it was worth witnessing the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

The procedure didn’t take too long. He struggled with the lower tooth, so an assistant came in to help him and the two conversed like you weren’t even there. When it was finally done, Oikawa pressed a button so you were adjusted into a seated position. You let your lips run frantically over your chapped lips, reaching for the small cup of water he provided you. And had you not been busy with the aftermath of the procedure, you would have noticed the way he watched you for a moment too long before getting up and throwing away his gloves.

Oikawa knew it was inappropriate. His breath shouldn’t have stuttered when he saw you in the waiting room for the check-up, he shouldn’t have sent you a small wave before calling your name to let you know he was ready for you, and he shouldn’t have put his hand on your back while leading you to his station. He just found you entertaining, that’s what he told himself, but he definitely looked off his game when you finally sat down for him to check the stitches from the procedure.

“Everything alright there, doc?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. Oikawa waved his hand as if it was nothing, laughing under his breath.

“No worries, I was just-” he pursed his lips before pointing at you with the little tool in his hand. “Do you like pasta?”

Your jaw loosened in disbelief. “Pasta? I guess I do, is that bad for my teeth or something?” you asked a bit awkwardly.

“There’s this new Italian restaurant down the street. You should go there,” he said. “With me, I mean.”

Oikawa’s penthouse apartment was pretty nice, so you two basically spent most of your time there after a couple of dates led to stumbling through your front door with your lips locked together. He had complained about the small bed and creaking floor of your apartment, which led him to take you home to his place the morning after.

Now you were sitting on the marble countertop in the bathroom with Oikawa standing between your legs, and it was similar to something you had dreamed up before when imagining life with a boyfriend. The difference was, you weren’t kissing or anything like that. No, your mouth was wide open as your handsome boyfriend checked your teeth before bed after you brushed them. “This is a bit unusual, don’t you think?” you managed to say, making him pout as you accidentally left a small bite on his pointer finger.

“You’re a bit unusual, but here we are,” he mumbled, but still hummed in appreciation at what he observed. “I knew the electric toothbrush would help.”

Finally, he leaned an arm on each side of you on the counter so you could have a kiss, which you’d say was a much better reward for being good at the dentist than the ones you would get when you were younger. “You truly are a genius, Tooru.” you cooed sarcastically. He kissed you again and hummed, savouring the aftertaste of your toothpaste. The expensive kind.

“Maybe I’m such a good dentist that my kisses clean your teeth,” he said, and it shouldn’t work. It shouldn’t be charming. It was cheesy, made no sense and created some disturbing mental images. But you savoured it nonetheless, accepting every kiss he gave you and returning it with the same sweetness.

Luckily, this dental nerd is all yours.

masterlist

#ask-mp4 #hq #haikyuu #haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyu x y/n #haikyu x you #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #haikyuu oikawa #hq oikawa #oikawa toru #oikawa

[ca-8]

How the Bigger Bodies Smiling Critters Died (head canons)

Alright so I R E A L L Y wanna talk about how I think the Smiling Critters perished in Poppy Playtime

Cw: mentions of (sorta) cannibalism, torture, accidental suicide, self-harm, addiction in terms of The Red Smoke

this is gonna be r e a l l y long, so strap in y'all

. ☀️⭐️🍎💡⚡️🌸❤️☀️⭐️🍎💡⚡️🌸❤️☀️⭐️🍎💡⚡️🌸❤️ .

Bubba Bubbaphant

"I'm Bubba Bubbaphant! ...Hey! I remember you!" "An elephant always remembers!" "Want to know what I remember about you...?" This character is pretty much the nerd emoji of the Smiling Critters. He's really smart, and, as he stated in his cardboard cut-out dialogue, has a really good memory. Although I can't really see that being put into play of his actual death, I can see that this last bit of information he stated (before just spiraling out of control) can be connected to our character. (Our character is an ex-worker and is always greeted with distain by the major antagonists, which leads me to believe that we have actively, or at least indirectly, participated in the child/worker experimentation/conversion based on what Bubba says. Although in his last bit of "dialogue", he's screaming quite loudly as if he was in major agony, but also laughing, as if he was ingesting something that caused great harm to his mentality and body, but since he's had it so many times before to the point where he actively begs to have more, it's agonizing, but also "heavenly." Therefore I think his cause of death would be due to him trying to escape during The Hour of Joy, but was eventually caught by CatNap and his use of The Red Smoke. In the Smiling Critters cartoon, all the critters are struggling to go to sleep because of how scared they were of the storm outside. However, once CatNap enters, they all practically light up with such disturbing happiness. Bubba is the first one to beg him to "help them go to sleep". Fast forward to The Hour of Joy, CatNap must've used his addiction against him to keep him sorta in place so he could kill him.

KickenChicken

"Hey! I'm KickenChicken! Wanna go outside and hang out?" "It's lookin' pretty rad outside!" "I've...never been outside before..." "Will you come with me? I'm scared..." "Here, follow me. I-I'll step out first..." Here, I used to think that he had barricaded himself along with some of the other critters somewhere safe inside the Playcare during The Hour of Joy, and he decided to step outside once all the humans were finally killed. Once he did, CatNap found him and killed him for his disobedience towards his god. But a recent theory sorta convinced me otherwise. I still believe in my own theory, but I also support the fact that KickenChicken could've also been one of the first toys to reach an exit to the outside world. But, once he and the other critter tried to step outside, he got killed by the Prototype.

Picky Piggy

"Hi there! I'm Picky Piggy! Let's eat!" "Roast beef? Delicious!" "Grilled chicken? Down the hatch!" "Seared elephant? Yum!" "Flayed unicorn? Mmm!" "Still hungry... Hey, what do you say you and I be friends?" (This one actually scares the hell out of me, i love it) And it's pretty obvious too, for the most part. I believe that Picky was separated by the other critters during The Hour of Joy, and ended up with nothing to eat for a long time. She ended up wandering aimlessly throughout the factory and eventually came across the corpses of her dead friends. Saddened, but desperate for food, she ate her friends' corpses as soon as she came along them, but all that effort soon went to waste as she eventually died of starvation, a constant theme throughout Poppy Playtime.

Hoppy Hopscotch

"I'm Hoppy Hopscotch! Wanna try hopping to the moon with me?" "On three with me! One... two... three! ...Heh, didn't get very far, did we?" "Again! One, two, three! Nope... still didn't make it." "Listen! This won't stop until we make it to the moon!" "One, two- No, no! Don't look at your feet! None of that matters! Again! Again!" "JUMP! JUUUU-" Yeah this one just makes me really sad, seeing how I think her death most likely would be accidental suicide. In an attempt to escape CatNap or The Prototype or another toy that was hunting them down for food, or maybe just trying to reach somewhere that lead to an exit, she encouraged her friend(s) to jump towards freedom, but due to her impulsive/impatient tendencies, she didn't think it through and ended up falling to her death.

Bobby Bearhug

"Hi! I'm Bobby Bearhug! Wanna know how much I love you?" "I love you to the moooon and back!" "I'm crazy about you." "I'm lost without you." "I've been lost a long time..." "Please, take me with you this time...!" "You won't leave me, will you??" Bobby loves everyone and everything, unconditionally. So, when The Hour of Joy occurred, she naturally felt terrified and wanted to stick close by with her friends as they tried to find a way out of the factory after that day. This might also be in relation to DogDay and Picky as well. DogDay probably shooed them away in attempt to save them from CatNap, and while the massacre occurred, Picky got lost during all the chaos. Them being her friends, she was greatly distraught by this, but soon forced herself to go along with who was left. That was when she probably witness some of their deaths: Bobby being lured by the Red Smoke and eventually killed, Kicken getting killed by either CatNap or The Protoype, Hoppy falling to her death, being scared away by CraftyCorn (I'll get to her later).

"Take me with you this time!" I believe this line was spawned from DogDay's actions. Since he was the leader of their group, she, along with the other critters, looked up to him. Perhaps Bobby believed if he has taken all of them with him, she wouldn't have ended up all alone. She eventually ended up all alone, turned to madness by loneliness as she always thought about the events that made her friends leave her. After a long time of wandering and losing hope, bit by bit as each day passed, she died of starvation.

CraftyCorn

"H-Hi, I'm CraftyCorn. Will you help me with my painting? Pass me the blue, please!" "Thanks! Now, will you give me some red?" "More red, please!" "Out...? But, w-we can't be out." "You're hiding more red from me... I know you are..." "GIVE IT HERE!" "There, now that's much better!" Despite CraftyCorn's established gentle and caring personality, both would be thrown away for the sake of keeping her creative juices flowing. She always loves everything artistic, so she also most likely uses it as a coping mechanism (and that's also seen in the Smiling Critter's cartoon, where CraftyCorn is drawing on multiple pages while still being scared of the storm outside). I believe she also witnessed some of her friends' deaths along with Bobby Bearhug, and, as her way of coping, she just tries drawing and drawing and painting and painting her worries away. But while her urges to cope may last, drawing materials do not for long, and she eventually runs out. This causes her to turn to panic, as she thinks she'll have to finally face reality that her friends are gone, but she's not ready, so she desperately tires to find more art materials, mostly the color red (because that's the most of what she's been seeing since The Hour of Joy). So, in a blind, maddened dismay, she attacks her friends and uses their blood for painting, piling on unimaginable guilt for hurting her friends, the very thing she was trying not to make herself realize.

Now as for her death. Her remaining friend(s) probably ended up leaving her for the sake of their own safety. She doesn't realize this, because again, she's so deep in her own distractions that she's lost touch with reality, until she finally runs out of red again. She desperately tries to find more, but can't extract any from an outside source. So she uses her own blood as paint. She extracts her blood, runs out, extracts again, runs out again, extracts again, runs out again, over and over until she finally harms herself to the point of dying from blood loss.

DogDay

"DogDay says... fetch!" "Go, go! As far as you can!" "Why are you...just standing there?" "You can't be here. You can't stay..." As I said earlier, DogDay must have helped his friends escape from CatNap's hunting ground and the main killing areas during The Hour of Joy. He realizes that CatNap holds a burning rage for him and his friends for not going along with The Prototypes control, and drives them out somewhere where he thinks they'll be safe. But he then told them that he couldn't go with them, because as the leader of the Smiling Critters, and holding a deep love for his friends, he felt the need to sacrifice himself so they can be safe.

Once they were away, he goes and finds CatNap. Since I believe that DogDay was once a worker for Playtime Co., I don't think he remembers his past. Therefore, he truly believes that he is DogDay, and that the Smiling Critters, including CatNap, have been friends for a lifetime. He believes that his friend is still in there, not seeing the fact that CatNap remembers exactly who he is and how he became this way, including why he worships The Prototype. DogDay tries to convince CatNap to remember all the good times they had (even though, with the Big Bodies version of the cast, CatNap was particularly distant from the rest of the Smiling Critters, since I assume they're also workers). Of course, this doesn't work, and CatNap attempts to kill him.

However, I believe that DogDay had escaped and went to look for his friends once he was at a safe distance. But this is FAR after the events of his friends' deaths, so one by one he comes across his friends' corpses, personally seeing the horrors of after The Hour of Joy "I'm...the last of the Smiling Critters...." (what he says before his own death)

After years of losing so much hope, seeing that none of his friends survived the horrors of the factory, DogDay doesn't see the point in trying to escape. If his friends didn't make it, what was the point? And, during his most vulnerable, this is how CatNap eventually ends up finding him. He gained some sick pleasure into see this heretic suffer, but he felt that he needed more misery, by kidnapping him and torturing him by cutting off his legs and feeding them to the mini critters, and stringing him up in the prison where he's slowly eaten by The Prototype's worshippers.

Still, he holds onto what sanity he has left from his interactions with Poppy (who I believe he ran into while he was wandering the Factory), and believed that an angel will bring them salvation.

. ☀️⭐️🍎💡⚡️🌸❤️☀️⭐️🍎💡⚡️🌸❤️☀️⭐️🍎💡⚡️🌸❤️ .

That's about it! Hope you guys enjoyed!!

~ 💜🌙 ~

#the smiling critters #poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #headcanons #poppy #dogday #hoppy hopscotch #catnap #bubba bubbaphant #kicken chicken #craftycorn #bobby bearhug #picky piggy #s-m-i-l-e ev-er-y day! #smiling critters

[harmonysanreads]

Trivia - Jeux de Vagues

I suppose this is the somewhat ‘lore’ of the aforementioned fic. I recommend reading the fic first before diving into this as this contains spoilers :> I normally wouldn't do this but per the vote of @verridaiya I was encouraged to regardless. Something to note would be that even though this is what I had in mind while writing, readers' personal interpretations are equally valid!

“Jeux de Vagues”

I mentioned this in a reblog already but the title comes from the second movement of the symphony “La Mer” by Claude Debussy, a French composer. It literally translates to ‘Play of the waves', quite fitting for a leisurely tea-party with Neuvillette, no? I also highly recommend listening to the piece in general, it might take some patience but if you love daydreaming about watching the sea waves away from your struggles as well, this is the music for you!

“6 to 12 O'clock”

Before I tell you why I'm showing this particular line, I want you guys to take a guess on what I meant by the 'noon to evening and midnight to dawn' part :>

.

.

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One of the rules of afternoon tea etiquette is that when you stir the tea, the appropriate motion to do is a 6 to 12 O'clock (so towards yourself and away from yourself) instead of going in circles. I thought just outright saying it wouldn't be fun so I instead used the four time indicators of 6 and 12 ! But of course, this could also symbolize the duration of Reader “scheming” since the beginning of the marriage.

“Fin de siècle”

Fin de siècle is a French term meaning “end of century,” a phrase which typically encompasses both the meaning of the similar English idiom “turn of the century” and also makes reference to the closing of one era and onset of another. [Taken from Wikipedia]

I kept on thinking about how to incorporate the ‘Isolation’ theme for Yandere!Neuvillette while also respecting his ideal of fairness. In one of his voice lines, he encourages to speak-up against grave injustice. With that in mind, this idea of “Keeping Reader isolated but giving them a chance to gain freedom by debating against Neuvillette once every century” was born. If Reader can successfully prove that Neuvillette is a terrible husband or their marriage is unjust, they can leave. But obviously, that's just false hope.

“Mon trésor”

Mon trésor is a gender-neutral French term of endearment which means “My treasure” in English. Huge thank you to @cerulean-castle and @iceunhie (please excuse me if I wasn't supposed to tag you two ;—;) for responding to my cry of help for this one as I was puzzled about French terms of endearment for a while. @/iceunhie gave me the link to a post of gender-neutral French terms of endearment which I found really helpful <3

As for why I chose Mon trésor as what Neuvillette calls Reader, it was due to the specific connotations between dragons and their treasures. Or in Neuvillette's case, Reader is his treasure. Hence, after sufficiently provoked, he doesn't flinch from referring to them as ‘abandoned property’.

“The words unspoken are the flower.”

Directly quoted from Neuvillette's [About : Wriothesley] voice line. According to him, it's an Inazuman proverb which means “Some words are better left unsaid.” which is Neuvillette's answer to his subconscious question of why he goes to such lengths for Reader.

Now, you can interpret this in a variety of ways and I'll say some of the “possible” ones. Perhaps he refuses to verbalize the causes because doing so would force him to face the hypocrisy and irrationality behind his actions. Perhaps he truly doesn't know, as there are many things he's on the path to understanding. Etcetera.

I might add onto this post if anyone has more questions from the fic itself. Writing Jeux de Vagues was quite difficult because I had a deadline of sorts but I was determined to finish it. Although there might be room for further improvement, I'm still happy that I pulled it of :') I hope that at least, my love for Neuvillette's character can be felt through the fic <3

#french people feel free to roast me if i did get something terribly wrong lolol #about ; jeux de vagues #yandere #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

How do you think the spider gang would react to Gwen coming out as trans? I think they'd all be supportive, but I'm curious if you have details

I am going to be honest with you anon, I had been looking at this question for weeks, thinking about it, and...I am not coming up with much.

I am trans, I don't have that much experience with people reacting to that- and I am not making any more comments about that.

Going back to the original question- I think all of them would be supportive; regardless of background or history, I feel doing anything else would be a disservice to the characters, and also, a type of story I really don't have interest entertaining, (Would Noir, being from 40s, be reasonable to have his apprehensions and need to overcome it? Yes, I am interested in seeing something like that? Personally, fuck no.)

Now, it doesn't mean there cannot be hiccups- all well intending, of course.

(Specific characters under the cut because, as always with me, it got long.)

Peter B I see going over the top; talking how brave Gwen is, and that he supports her no matter what, he also reads a book on trans people and tell hims about the people in his universe who are trans. Gwen appreciates it, but it can be uncomfortable at times.

Noir, regardless of time period, would be supportive, but mixes up terminology. The poor guy already struggles with the pop culture lingo, so throwing queer lingo into the mix can make things awkward; specially since, as a spider-man, he has defended the marginalized people of his dimension and is aware of the community, but- that community had its own terminology that may not be appreciated to day. Is a growing curve.

In my opinion, Ham is a much of a man as Bugs Bunny, meaning gender isn't as important as commitment to the bit; so I can see him busting a dress all of the sudden and saying "I get you sis." Accordingly, if asked about his own gender, he is pretty much "normally a guy, but in general whatever fits better with the scene."

Peni I headcanon as nonbinary, so I think she would be happy to meet another person who isn't cis. Definitely would have lots of talk about presentation, tricks for clothes a make up, the works.

Margo is cool about it, there isn't much to say there; she just tells Gwen that it doesn't change anything between them, and she is still invited to come for the slumber parties (Margo has thrown a bunch in the Spider-Society, because anything to spend as little time mentally at home as possible.)

Pavitr: "Oh so you are like a hijra? That's so cool!" (This is a term from a place I am not from, so I can't talk in length about it, feel free to look it up because it is indeed, very cool.) While not the same, he ends up telling more about how people in his dimension see transgender people, Gwen finds it overall really interesting.

Hobie is, of course, cool about it. He is a punk, noncomformist, and "hates labels," he could probably tell Gwen a stupid amount of things about queer history, intersectionally, so far and so forth. Despite using he/him pronouns, I believe with all my heart Hobie would not give a shit about gender roles and dress how he likes, and be okay with any pronouns. This has nothing to do with your question, but I headcanon that Hobie has been the queer awakening of many other teens of the Spider-Society as he strolls down in whatever outfit he feels like it.

Now Miles, is obviously supportive. I think he may be oblivious to many things (I headcanon him as bi for a long awhile, but I am not sure if that's something he knows already or has yet to discover,) so he asks questions, but is always respectful and has no trouble answering. Overall, Gwen thinks is cute how much Miles dotes on her, and reminding her that she will always be the prettiest girl alive to him.

Huh, I guess I had more to say that I expected, this was fun! Thanks for the question and sorry for the delay.

#ghostflower #gwiles #gwen stacy #trans gwen stacy #atsv #itsv #across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #peter b parker #spider noir #peter b porker #peni parker #margo kess #pavitr prabhakar #hobie brown #miles morales #spider-man #spider-ham #spider-woman #spider-gwen #ghost spider #spider byte #sp//dr #spider-punk #spider-india #headcanon #atsv headcanons

[imeanitplsmorenamifics]

hi there!! i feel like work song is definitely a sanji song and i can imagine the yearning between him and the reader

Hi! Sorry for such a late response, I lost motivation again 😭 Work Song definitely feels like a Sanji song! I was so excited to write this prompt. Work Song is my favorite Hozier song ever! I hope you like this! A heads up for the live-action One Piece fans, this is based on the anime plotline. It is based around Skypiea (I just finished that arc actually!). You can find my Flower Asks here, Hozier Asks here, and my Taylor Swift Asks here (I have added TTPD to it now!). You can find my masterlist here and my rules here. And you can request here! Work Song: You're the only thing that keeps him going. Characters: Sanji, GN!Reader Pairings: Sanji x GN!Reader TW: None that I can think of!

Work Song

.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.

If there was one thing that everyone knew about Sanji, it was his love for cooking. Cooking was his safe place. You would always find him holed up in the kitchen, slaving away at whatever dish he was trying to make next that would blow the socks off anyone who tried it. It was the thing that he was good at. It was his passion. He cared about it more than anything in the whole world. But that wasn’t the only thing he cared about. There was something he cared about just as much or even more than cooking. That something was you.

Once Sanji met you, he had no idea how he went through life without you. It was like you suddenly became everything his world was. You were the air he breathed, the light to his cigarette, the heat to his stove, the ingredients to his cooking. You came into his life and became everything he could ever need. He found himself needing nothing else if he had you. You were everything to him. You were his reason for getting through the day.

He found himself thinking about you constantly. Your bright smile, your soft skin, your personality, your little jokes, your laugh. You overtook every single thought in his mind. There was not a single thing about you he didn’t love. You could tell him everything you hated about yourself and he would tell you every reason why he loved that part of you and more. You took him as he was. Sanji had no doubt made many mistakes in his past and, despite that, you still chose to love him like he did none of that. It was like you were from a dream. This man loved you like it was his passion. A passion that overtook even his passion for cooking. You were his main priority.

That’s why when he found out you were on Eneru’s ship with the god himself, all he could think about was getting you off that ship and as far away from the enemy as possible. He ignored his wounds from Eneru’s lightning, forced Usopp to get up and help him, and made sure that he used whatever resource he had necessary to save you. You were the only thing that he thought about. The only thought on his mind. The only safety he cared about was yours.

When he stayed behind to face off against Eneru by himself, he saw the look on your face as you fell off the ship with Usopp and the waver. He knew that you didn’t want to leave him there. He could hear your shouts at Usopp to let go of the waver and to go back up to the ship. But that was the last thing Sanji wanted you to do. He knew Usopp would do what Sanji wanted and keep you away from the fight.

And so, when he stared Eneru in the face again, he said one thing to him, “I don’t believe in God, you know. I doubt that I’d be going to any kind of heaven. But I don’t care because I have my own heaven, my own divine being. And that’s all I need.” Eneru had no idea what he was talking about. The god struck the man down with his lightning and as Sanji laid on the ground, burning and aching with the feeling of the lightning wreaking havoc through his body, there was one thought that was in his mind.

He knew he was going to make it out of this alive. Nothing could keep him away from you. If they buried him in the deepest grave man could possibly make, he would still find a way to claw his way out and drag himself back to your feet. That’s where he was supposed to be, where he needed to be. You were exactly where he was supposed to be.

#one piece #opla x reader #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece x reader #opla #opla sanji x reader #one piece headcanons #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #opla sanji #sanji #sanji vinsmoke x reader #hozier

[ryehouses]

HI HELLO so in response to that post you reblogged about asks and feedback: i did have two questions about ast!boba

there's a scene where din sees boba's back and observes that he had, at some point, been whipped. do we find out what's that about and i missed it??

since din and boba got married, did he and luke ever end up meeting? if so, how many people died?

still devastatingly in love with your work. woops that wasn't a question

hope you're good!!

OH HEY OH HI thanks for stopping by!! i have two (kind of) answers for you:

i went back through my heap of boba character notes and didn't find anything that i had specifically in mind! from what i can tell, i meant that line about boba's scars as a shorthand "yo boba's life kind of sucks" and a point of connection for din, who also has a ton of scars. that's all i have about that, sorry!

yo you can't do this to me. you can't. my brain is trying DESPERATELY to go haring off after the idea of boba fett rocking up to the jedi temple one day to collect his kid from magic school and not so subtly attempting to bully luke into tell him him where han solo is, boba just wants to talk to him, that's all, really, no need to get so defensive, it's not like han solo killed me on accident, skywalker, and i really just wanna talk to him about it -- (realistically, though, grogu has been LOUDLY talking up his new green dad to all of the jedi for several months. none of the jedi are afraid of boba any more, because it's really hard to be afraid of a man who you've seen covered head-to-toe in muck in a force memory because grogu didn't to make like a bantha and wallow in the biggest mud pit he could find, forcing boba to come in after him.)

thank you so much!! i too still have a bizarre amount of affection for the monster, and am so, so happy that so many people still love it and get something out of it <3

#ast asks #i have too many extant word docs i cannot start another

[somefanchick]

-Riddle Me This-

(This story is from Riddle's perspective anytime the events of book two. I only know information from the English server story and events so sorry if anything is terribly out of character. This fic is platonic and is cannon for my Yuu-sona, but I do just call them Yuu in the story. Hope you enjoy! Ps. There is a little bit of cussing. I do not own the picture <3)

I couldn’t help but feel guilty. My overblot was the first of many, and they've had to deal with all of them. It was infuriating that I had started a trend of trouble that was pilled onto Yuu’s lists of tasks. Of course it wasn’t completely my doing. However the more it happened, the more something in the back of my mind said I needed to make it up to them.

Trey asked me to deliver a caramel apple tart to them so I was doing just that. Normally he would ask Ace and Deuce, but they had to feed the flamingos. He then looked at Carter, but I insisted on doing it myself. I had noticed that Yuu seemed distant during lunch. They were staring into the distance, clearly not looking at anything or listening to their group of friends as they slowly spooned some soup into their mouth. 

I rang the doorbell only to be met with silence. I knew that they had to be in their dorm because that’s where they always are when they weren’t doing a task for the headmaster or going to class. I admired how determined they were to improve their living accommodations with their own blood, sweat, and tears. They seemed insulted when Trey had previously offered his help in the endeavor, so I had never asked myself, but I knew Ace and Deuce had found some way to help them without them refusing or being hateful about the assistance.

I rang the doorbell once again, only to be met with silence once more. My gut told me to try the doorknob, so I did. The door opened with barely any resistance. 

“Yuu? It’s Riddle,” My voice came out weak and uncertain, I was shaken by the easy entry, “I brought a tart.”

I looked in the living room to find Grim asleep on the couch, a small fire lit in the fireplace. Yuu was still nowhere to be seen. 

“Why hello,” I jumped when the ghost started speaking out of nowhere, “You’re Housewarden Rosehearts right?”

“Yes,” I composed myself quickly, “I came to drop this off on behalf of my vice-warden. Where is Yuu?”

Another ghost made his way over, “I’d put the tart in the kitchen, Yuu isn’t exactly in the mood to see visitors right now.”

My gut twisted, "Are they okay? Where are they?”

The smallest ghost made his own appearance, “We don’t know. They kicked us out of their room. They've been there since class ended today.”

“They kicked Grim out too,” The first ghost crossed his spectral limbs, “That’s how we know they're in a bad mood, not just napping.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” I made up my mind. I had to trust my gut.

I left the ghosts and placed the tart in the refrigerator in the kitchen. The fridge was pretty empty, only leaving some juice that I knew Ace had brought last time they had a movie night and some cans of Tuna hidden from Grim on the highest shelf. I was able to place the tart on a shelf alone.

I then made my way up to her room. It was oddly quiet with Grim and the ghosts staying downstairs. I could see that Yuu was in the middle of remodeling some of the smaller rooms, airing them out and leaving their dorm as the only one closed.

“Yuu,” My gut was pushing past my manners, something told me that this was more important, “It’s Riddle.”

“Didn’t the ghosts tell you to leave me alone?” Their voice was a weak hiss, “I can’t do it right now.”

“Do ‘it’?” I was confused, “Yuu what is going on?”

 “Just leave me alone,” Yuu was a bit louder, then they mumbled something I couldn’t hear even though I was right behind her door.

“Can I come in?” I put my hand on the handle, “I need you to talk to me.”

“Why won’t you go away!?” They screamed suddenly and my body stiffened.

I opened the door.

They sat on the floor like it was the center of the storm. Windows had the curtains drawn so the room was as dark as it could be in the middle of the day. The room had clothes scattered rabidly, uniforms and other pieces of clothing that I recognized from school events scattered among the bed sheets that had been pulled from the bed erratically where they hung off the bed. I could tell that Yuu's room was normally clean but they had managed to tear everything onto the ground and wreck the place as if they were a hurricane. Something in my heart hurt when I realized the destruction reminded me of the Heartslabyul garden after my overblot. 

“Go away,” They was mumbling but now I could hear them, “It isn’t real. I have to wake up.”

“‘Isn’t real’?” I approached with caution, “Yuu what are you talking about?”

“This!” They gestured all around themselves without really thinking, “It’s not real. It can’t be real. People don’t-” They were struggling to breathe, but they weren’t crying, “People don’t care about me like this. That’s not how it works. This is all just some stupid dream. I can’t get attached. I can’t. I can’t-”

They was having a panic attack. I had not had one since I was a kid and they were never properly dealt with, so I had no idea what was appropriate. It also confused me because what they were saying didn’t make sense. “‘People don't care about me like this.’” “‘This is all just some stupid dream.’” “‘It’s not real.’”

Yuu, while somewhat blunt and egotistical, was one of the most beloved people in the school. It had become rare that people would mess with them for the sole fear of the repercussions from them or those that cared about them. They helped so many people through difficult times. They were smart, cunning, ruthless, caring, fierce, and loyal beyond most people at this school. Why wouldn’t people care about them?

“Yuu,” I tried to mimic Trey’s comforting tactics as I had seen him do with me, other students, and his siblings on the rare occasion that I saw them. I kneeled down to reach their level and tried to get them to focus on me without touching them, “I’m going to need you to name five things you can see.”

They froze for a moment and I was afraid I had somehow made it worse. But they looked me in the eye with some confusion before slowly glancing around the room.

“I see you,” They let out a breath, “I see my camera on the mantle, Grim’s bed, the cleaning supplies in the hallway, and the mess I made.”

I smiled, “I will help clean that up. Now I need you to name four things you can feel.” 

I saw their vision focus, as if their brain and eyes were realigning, “The wooden floor. The carpet. My clothes. Warm air.”

I nodded, “That’s it. What are three things you can hear?”

Their breathing slowed to a normal pace, “My breath,” they paused to listen, “That one branch outside my window banging against the building. And you.”

“Good job,” I watched as they stopped hunching over and moved to sit criss-cross, “Two things you can smell.”

They inhaled deeply, “Dust and cleaning supplies.”

I took a deep breath of my own, “And one thing you taste.”

“Toothpaste aftertaste,” They were grounded, “I haven’t eaten today.”

“I brought a tart from Trey,” I held out a finger, “Normally I wouldn’t approve of eating dessert for breakfast, but this is a special case.”

They laughed dryly, “Thanks Riddle. What kind of tart is it?”

“Caramel apple,” I shrugged, “He wanted to try a new recipe.”

“Nice,” They looked around at the mess, “Damn. I can’t believe I did this. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I motioned to the clothes on the mirror, “You had to deal with my overblot. It’s only fair.”

“Merlin,” I could almost hear them grit their teeth as they rose to their feet, “I can’t believe-”

I rushed to stand so I could keep them from tumbling back to the floor, “Don’t rush yourself. I don’t want you passing out.”

“I’m so sorry,” They pulled themself off of me and sat on the bed, “I just- No. There's no excuse. I need to stop being stupid.”

“You weren’t being stupid,” I stood in front of them, “This kind of stuff is normal. You’re under a lot of stress and you don’t really have an outlet. Trust me. I get it.”

“You don’t,” they laid back on the bed, “I’m not from here. I’m from another world that is so different from this,” They let out another dry laugh, “People here are as bad as me, ego-wise. You all seem to care about me. Isn’t that insane?” They sat up, “I went from only two people in the world caring if I dropped dead, to dozens of people seeming to genuinely give a shit about my existence. Isn’t that insane?” I could see their eyes glossing over, like the panic and dread was settling back in, “I mean, I’m the same person. Why would people care about me now when I used to be so desperate to have a single person even acknowledge my existence without hating me? There’s no way it’s real right? I have to be in some kind of coma or something and this is some fever dream where people don’t hate me for existing. Right? Why would anyone like me? Let alone do things for me. I don’t-”

“Yuu,” I had to stop her from spiraling back, “This isn’t a dream,” I found myself trusting my gut once again and taking her hands in mine, “This is real. I don’t know what it was like in your world, but we care about you,” I let go of their hands, “I know Ace would have moved out of Heartslabyul if he wasn’t able to escape here with you and Deuce. And,” I looked down, “I probably wouldn’t have lived through my overblot without you.”

That seemed to bring them back again, “It’s real. All of it.”

“Yeah,” I sat down on the other side of the bed, “I’m sorry.”

“What are you saying sorry for?” Yuu stood, this time their legs supported them, “I’m the one who made a fool of myself. You-”

“Have made more than a fool of myself,” I smiled, “I overblotted. I was the first domino in the series of troubles you’ve had to face. And then I embarrass myself by forgetting you are human.”

“Excuse me?” They turned to look at me as I stood back up.

I made my way forward, “I forget you are human sometimes. You seem so ethereal. You work hard but it looks so easy for you. You handle our issues with ease, even though it has to take such a toll on you. And I’m sorry for that. You have your own issues and I think all of us forget that.”

They stopped looking at me, “Can we go eat now?”

“Yeah,” I could tell she didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

They stood and made their way out of the room. I followed behind, watching for any sign of further distress or panic. No one in the house seemed to notice Yuu had emerged from their room. They opened the fridge, retrieved the tart, and then moved to get the proper silverware for the food. 

That’s when I really got a look at them. Her clothes hung off her body awkwardly, as if they was far too small for the pajamas. Their hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in a while. Their eyes had bags and their legs shook slightly.

“I didn’t see any other food in the fridge,” I spoke softly as they began to cut the tart, “Do you need to go grocery shopping? I could go-”

“No I’m fine,” They spoke bluntly as they placed a slice of tart in front of me and began to get their own slice, “Crowley doesn’t give me food money until the end of this week. I don’t have enough to go shopping right now. Just enough for school lunches. And some tuna so I can get Grim to help out.”

“Yuu.”

They gave me my silverware and put the remaining tart in the fridge before sitting to eat their own slice, “Don’t lecture me on starving myself. That’s not what this is.”

They kept going without my prompt, “Look. I’m not used to this. It’s not so surprising that I think it’s some kind of fever dream. I’ve gone 18 years with only a few people caring if I lived or died. Now all of a sudden I come to a whole new world where that person is gone, but almost a dozen people seem to genuinely think I’m worth caring about. It's an emotional whiplash. I know I’m going to regret this but I’ve got to just get it out. I’m a horrible person. I’m not some saint like you seem to think. I’m an egotistical asshole who is a know-it-all and who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. I’m ungrateful and spoiled. I’m just an adult who has no idea what to do and then I got sucked here and I am more confused than ever. I guess it all just bubbled over.”

“Yuu,” I took a bite of my tart and swallowed before speaking again, “If that is what you think of yourself then I think it wasn’t just your environment that changed.”

“What?” Yuu stopped eating and looked up at me, “I don’t change.”

I looked at them, “Could have fooled me.”

We ate the rest of the food in silence. Yuu was far from healed, but some part of me knew that what I had seen was sacred. It was an unspoken rule. No one else gets to know what I have seen and heard today. At least, not unless Yuu was the one telling them. I made a mental note to send Ace and Deuce here to spend some time with our magicless prefect with a large bag of healthy and nourishing foods.

#disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #riddle x reader #platonic fic #highkey inspired by PEGGY's song 'Alice' #twst yuu #disney twisted wonderland #hurt/comfort

[keruimi]

The Love I Strived For

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x reader

Warning: Comfort, slight Angst

Note: No words, too proud of this. My haikyuu fan side is kicking again so I decided to look back at the character that snatched my heart. I Hope you all love this the way I did. 🤍

_____________________________

"If she just knows how lucky she is to be close with Sakusa-san"

"To be like her..."

"Can we blame him, she is talented like him."

"She is so lucky..."

"Can I just be her?"

Those were the whispers I always hear the times I walk down the hallways, no matter where I am.

Sakusa's friend

The Woman who was his only exception.

Those words fill my heart with bitterness.

Because of the word 'friend'

They were right, I am talented like him. I am the best setter in the country. I am beautiful. My grades are still stable.

But our relationship will always still be in the so-called friendship.

Love is not his first priority. He could careless about it.

But I started to love him. A great Ace with a humble personality.

He should ask himself why I can't stop loving him.

Love that bloomed when we first met in the youth center for aspiring volleyball players.

That was the start of our story, of our friendship.

But never our love story.

Because no matter how perfect I am, no matter how much we are perfect in the eyes of others, I knew that feeling of acknowledgement would only stay as friends.

I could never ask for more no matter how much I wanted to.

Sakusa Kiyoomi

He was perfect. He has everything I wanted in a partner who I can spend my life with.

He has looks, he is a great player, he is a hard worker, and no matter how great a player he is, he was never prideful about it.

I love everything about him.

But our moments are always like acquaintances. I could never pass that line no matter how many years it has already been.

"I want you to love me. And I'll prove why I'm worth it"

That was the promise I declared wholeheartedly in our elementary days.

But he still feels so distant to me.

He acknowledged me, my love and talent. But never love anything I offered to him.

How am I lucky?

When my efforts seem to go to waste.

How can he love me?

"Senpai" a first year member of our team called out for me when she started to notice I was zoning out that made me look at the match in front of me.

A match where he lost the chance of being a consecutive champion.

I felt tears build up from my eyes when I saw the school's male volleyball team lose the rights to fight for the spot in the championship.

I hate it.

"Senpai... Let's greet them"

She tugged my sleeves like she is urging me to walk to greet the boys and I let my feet follow them.

And standing in front of him feels oddly cold.

So close but feels so far.

Maybe because of the bitterness I felt for him. But I can't blame him especially when it never occurs to him for loving anyone at all.

Right now I don't have the right words to say to him.

"I'll bring the victory to you"

Until those words left my lips.

That is a promise.

I love how his eyes gaze on my own before he nods in acknowledgement and proceeds to go to the locker room to wash up.

I silently yearn the moment he would finally love my efforts. The time where he would realize I am really serious about pursuing him. The moment he will feel proud of me.

I want to see the time where he would smile at me.

Because I just didn't wish for it. I worked for it.

I put sweat and tears to practice. To be a better player, match to him.

I work hard just to be seen. And I would never let go of this chance now that I am in the National Stage.

I'll bring the trophy to him.

I can hear the cheers in the stadium the moment I arrive at the end of the second set with us being in the losing end.

Because my body suddenly shut down from the quarterfinals we won yesterday.

Now that we are in the semifinals, I would not let the same bad luck be the reason why Itachiyama lost.

I am the female volleyball team's setter, the mastermind of every play. I don't want to lose therefore I can't leave.

26-25

The other team won the first set and on the lead on the second set.

The pressure was intense.

Especially when the coach immediately entered me in the game as I stood at the back.

This is my last chance...

I can't give up.

I'm not like his other fans who just wish and dream. I worked hard for it until I was deserving of it.

At this time, I want to be known by the world.

That I am the woman he should be proud of.

Those thoughts made me snatch the second set we almost lost.

Because I promise...

And I didn't realize that the match had finally ended, giving us the ticket to fight for the championship.

The time has finally come...

This is the chance I needed...

"I'm so close. So close"

Yet the night before the final day, my fever spiked up that I can barely breathe.

That's the day where I need to decide whether to play or put my health first.

But it was my dream. Not only for him but for myself too.

That's why my fever was left untold to my team members. Was kept as a secret to the coach.

Because I need to be in the court. At this moment, I need to be there.

That's why no matter how warm it was, no matter how dizzy I got, I kept going without looking back.

Because I finally decided that I will clutch the gold medal.

For our school, for our team, for our hardwork, and for him.

Even if I badly want to end it. I need to keep holding on to it.

Keep surviving.

Until we finally manage to take the last set we need to win.

That was the only time I got to breathe.

I felt my team embrace as we all fell to the ground in happiness.

Tears spill in my eyes as I finally got to laugh genuinely.

I did it

We did it!

Until the numb feeling of my body reminded me of the thing I chose to ignore.

After a few moments of celebrating, we handshake with the other team and while heading to the bleachers to take our supporters.

I felt the captain's hand on my back.

"Thank you because you keep going" she whispered as a small smile lifted from my lips.

"I have no regrets"

We bowed and thanked our supporters as I heard their cheers.

We didn't disappoint our school.

I looked up and saw the male volleyball team looking at us.

While his gaze was focused on me. I felt tears build up from my eyes as I showed a smile.

I was so happy, so happy I did it.

My happiness was immeasurable when I saw how his eyes seemed to rise a little that made my tears fall from my eyes.

Did I do it?

Did I finally make him smile.

My happiness was cut off short when my vision turned black. My own body is finally giving up on me.

It finally reaches its limit.

I started to wake up when I felt the cold towel on my forehead.

And his presence was the one that greeted me.

My eyes looked around and I saw I was in my hotel room and he was the one beside me.

"I'm sick Sakusa..."

I managed to stutter out before I felt the tiredness in my body.

"I know" he stated before he poured me a glass of water and set it on the side table.

He took a hold of my hand before he made me sit up. "You should drink"

He told me as I held the towel in my forehead and took the glass of water he was offering to me.

I drink all of it before setting it on the side table.

"Why are you the one with me?" I asked him before I removed the towel first so I could tie my hair up.

"Should I leave?"

He asked that it made me stare at him and saw he was wearing his mask as usual that made me sigh.

"It's just unusual for a person like you" I mumble as he took the comb before I managed to reach it.

"Let me"

I froze as I felt him touch my hair.

"Your actions are making me have second thoughts if you are really the Sakusa I know"

"Kiyo" I heard him mutter that made my breath hitched from his words.

"This is the only thing I can do" he started as I cherish this moment he was combing my hair for me.

"For a woman who almost risks her life just to not disappoint me" My heart warmed from his words as I looked over him through the mirror.

And I saw how my eyes turned glossy at that moment.

"You did a very dangerous thing there that your fever spikes up to 40°C" he continued before he put my hair in a ponytail.

"Never do that again"

I smiled at his words as I just decided to lean on the headboard so I can have more time to talk to him properly.

"I told you didn't I?" I finally spoke up the moment he took a seat on the end of the bed near me.

"I want to be worthy of a man like you. I want to bring the gold to you" his eyes found mine as I lift a small smile.

"Did I manage that? Those were the questions that first popped into my mind the moment we finally won" I breathlessly mutter as I played with my hands but not breaking off the eye contact from him.

"But only Sakusa Kiyoomi can answer that"

I felt how his eyes gloss a little that made me take a hold of his hand.

"Did I finally become worthy of your love?"

"The world made me feel average no matter how great I was" he managed to utter as I felt his hand tighten his hold on mine.

"Only you made me feel special"

"So Thank you"

"I really love you Kiyo" I stated clearly as I saw how thankful he was from how he gazed at our hands holding each other's palm.

"You made me start to treasure someone like you, Y/n"

And I can finally say without any hesitation.

That the first chapter of our love story officially began.

At the End of Spring Interhigh

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu anime #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyū!! #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #hq x y/n #hq anime #haikyuu x y/n #sakusa x reader #hq sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #haikyuu kiyoomi #hq kiyoomi #kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #Spotify

[gosmigenergy]

DRINK AROUND THE WORLD

( Triple Frontier Boys x F!Reader )

Summary: After the boys promised to take you to Disney, you and Benny take on the challenge of drinking around the world. 

Warnings: Mentions of Food, Mentions of Drink, Alcohol Consumption, Intoxication, Crying, Language, Nickname/Pet Names, No use of Y/N

Rating: Fluff

Word Count: 5.9k

Author’s Notes: Hi, so this felt like it took me forever to write for such a short fic but honestly there’s been some crazy stuff irl, including a family member’s health, that knocked me for six. In the end, I just wanted something wholesome, maybe a little bit silly featuring the boys to make me feel better. Also I’m an absolute lightweight when it comes to drinking so surviving eleven drinks is witchcraft to me!

“Can we start yet?”

You and the boys had been in the park for what feels like a lifetime. Arriving at Epcot early, they insisted on getting on the Guardians of the Galaxy ride before it got too busy, even though it went backwards and you didn’t want to go on it if it went in reverse. Then you wandered aimlessly for a ‘look around’ and yes, the topiaries shaped like characters and other spectacular creations were beautiful to look at but everyone knew why they were really here.

Santiago arched one brow, “You still want to do this, honey?”

You were giddy, the literal manifestation of a kid in Disney World but it wasn’t because you were in line to meet the princesses or about to embark Journey Into Imagination with Figment.

Sighing, he looked at his watch.

He watched the hands change to 1 o’clock exactly and glanced over to Will, who nodded in return.

Santiago pointed a finger at Benny then you then back to Benny.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

Benny nods, his smile widening as he grabs you by the wrist and drags you away. You smile so innocently at Santiago that it pulls at his heartstrings, there was no way in hell you were ready for this.

“You remember your roles?”

He queries Will and Frankie when you’re out of ear shot. How could they forget when Santiago pulled them to one side on the way back to the room last night? They sat by the pool area as he rolled out instructions with military precision. He wanted everyone to have fun, sure, but this was you and there was a strong probability this could go wrong.

“She’ll be fine, Pope, Benny knows her limits.”

“How many drinks has Bunny had in front of us?”

Will’s brows furrowed, the sudden realisation that he’s seen you drink three, maybe four, enough to make you giggly. This was going to be eleven in a row if you make it that far and his brother’s an encourager.

Frankie shrugs, “You make it sound like you’ve never inflicted her with anything.”

“Alcohol is different to that Aphrodite shit, we know that,” Santiago retorted.

“She’ll be fine, brother.”

Will was assuring himself more than Santiago, especially when he saw you and Benny returning with your first drinks.

“What is that?”

“Whatever she ordered,” Benny retorted to Santiago.

Frankie watched as you took the first sip and your expression scrunched.

“Don’t drink it if you don’t like it.”

“It’s not that, it’s just really strong.”

He thrusts out a hand and you pass it to him. Pursing his lips, he takes a sip before delivering a wheezy laugh.

“Jesus Christ.”

Rather than going for the variety of beer on offer, you decided to follow a list you found online. The cocktail you chose was mostly whisky and you’re pretty sure the tender gave you a little extra.

You giggle as he gives it back. Your eye flit to Benny as he tilts his head back to down his beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as the liquid goes down with ease.

“Don’t you dare.”

You blink at Santiago whose eyes are barely visible behind his sunglasses, however you could picture them perfectly.

“I wasn’t going to,” you say shyly, eyes breaking away.

Rule one was not to try and keep up with Benny.

Before he was a fighter, he had a reputation for being the last one standing at the bar, you would never keep up. The last time he gave you a shot, you immediately grabbed Will and insisted you needed to go home.

Benny finished his drink, “Where to next?”

“I thought we could just follow the route, seems easier.”

Frankie unfurls the map from his pocket, his slopping nose almost in the paper to hide his concern.

“Where are you thinking about getting food?”

“America.”

The noise Frankie made doesn’t make Santiago feel confident, he wonders what was in that cocktail, whether he should have made a rule about not mixing alcohol but that wouldn’t have been fair.

“Wait, where’d they go?”

Will was finishing the end of your drink, “They’re already off to the UK.”

“These two are gonna be the death of me.”

Benny and you were already lined up against the bar when the rest of them caught up.

“I’m not sure you’ll like this one.”

“Why?”

“Have you ever had Guinness before?”

“Once, maybe,” you sounded so unsure.

“Cider?”

“Of course I’ve had cider, Benny, your mum served it to us warm, remember?”

He shook his head, “That’s not the same.”

The bartender slipped over two pints with frothy tops and an almost black liquid that turned golden at the bottom. Benny paid and carried them both to the table that Will had managed to snag in the corner.

You and Benny cheered, clunking the plastic glasses together before taking a drink. You barely swallow before you gag. Frankie stifled a laugh behind his hand, body shaking as Will began to crack.

In France, the five of you sat on the wrought-iron tables by the water, Frankie and Will joining you in having an Orange Slush. Santiago snuck away, reappearing with a croissant, just a little something to keep you going, he said.

He did however join you for a drink in Morocco, where the Iced Mint Tea came with a refreshing, surprising punch. He knew you were getting tipsy, your eyelids were getting heavier, your voice rising a couple of decibels and though your fake boyfriend was Benny, your hands were over all of them.

Frankie discreetly sipped your drink when your back was turned or when Will distracted you.

“She’s doing great,” Benny elbowed Santiago.

“You’re only four drinks in,” he responds flatly. “We’ll see how she’s fairing after number five.”

Drink number five took a while to get to, your fuzzy mind easily succumbing to the attaching store with Japanese merchandise.

“Please can we go in?”

Your eyes became wide and puppy like, your eyelashes fluttering until one of them caved.

“Come on then, sweetheart…”

You squealed, bouncing on your toes as Will stepped forward. You grabbed his hand, entwining your fingers with his without a care in the world. He simply leaned into it, not caring about the possibility of someone seeing you with him instead of his brother.

“You want a new plushie?”

Your lips skew, “It depends what they have.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something.”

Santiago hoped the shopping trip would be enough for you to get the tiniest bit sober.

Inside, your concentration was short, everything was distracting. You’d jumped from Hello Kitty to Pokemon to Studio Ghibli, from kimonos to tea to candles without making a decision.

“Do you think Santiago would do a face mask?”

Will found you in the beauty section, clinging onto five different types of face masks, inspecting the backs though the words were blurry at the edges.

“I’m sure he’d do one for you.”

Your sigh seems disheartened.

“What’s up, Bunny?”

“Is he mad with me?”

When you didn’t look round, he began to question whether your eyes had got glossy, tears threatening to fall.

“He’s not mad, just… concerned.”

You sigh again, “I want us all to have fun, not just me and Benny.”

He offers you the basket in his hand and you place the face mask carefully in before turning around. There was an understanding that he shared that he didn’t necessarily need to say aloud, Santiago wasn’t the best when plans went astray and he was doing his best to keep everything on track.

“And I know what he’s doing or you’re doing or maybe it’s all of you…”

Will cocks his head as he can see your brain trying to put two and two together, concentration plastered on your face.

“But tell Frankie to buy his own drinks.”

He laughs at your comment, “Anything else?”

“I can’t decide on a plushie.”

“Well, we could just get these and come back when you’re sober.”

You bite your bottom lip, “How bad am I?”

“Getting a little handsy,” he shrugs, it’s why he already put snacks in the basket for later.

Benny checked his phone for the time, you had been gone for almost half an hour and he could feel the chill coming from Santiago’s gaze.

“I’m gonna buy the drinks ready.”

“Make it non-alcoholic.”

“I’m not doing that, she wants to do the challenge, let her do the challenge.”

Santiago didn’t respond as he walked away. When doing your research, you showed Benny the drink you wanted, violet in colour with a light up ice cube and that’s what you were getting.

Frankie waved as he saw you and Will come out of the entrance. Seeing that Benny was missing, you scurry off to find him as Will went to join the others.

“That’s a pretty small bag,” Frankie tipped his head to the bag in Will’s hand.

“I said I’d take her back when she’s sober.”

“So, she knows she’s tipsy?”

“Uh-huh,” Will closes in on them both. “She also knows Frankie should be getting his own drinks.”

Santiago pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath that Will didn’t catch, he just knew he was pissed.

“I would actually like that,” Frankie quipped.

“Pope, we’ve dealt with so much more than a drunk girl at a theme park.”

He knew that, Santiago just didn’t like it.

But then he caught you out of the corner of his eye. Clutching a plastic cup, you were beaming at Benny who took your hand to ensure you weren’t led in the opposite direction. You were undeniably happy, dressed for the occasion with a pair of Minnie ears and a spring in your step.

This was the first mini vacation with all of them present and his stomach rolled with guilt at his behaviour.

“Wanna try?”

This was the deciding moment.

He leaned back at first before taking it from your hand. Taking a sip, the sugar hurt his teeth and with a grunt he clutched his jaw.

“Where’s the sake?”

“Oh, so now you want me to have alcohol!”

“As much as you like honey.”

You go to take back the drink except he leans further against the railing, head tipped up with a smug smile. Huffing, you fold your arms and scowl.

“Not until I have another sip.”

By the time you make it to the restaurant in America, you can’t think straight. You’re surrounded by brick walls with blue, red and white fabric handing from the ceiling, patriotic music playing under the hive of screaming kids and constant conversation.

There wasn’t much choice on the menu but your hands started to go clammy when you realised the words didn’t make any sense.

“Benny,” you call his name in a hushed tone, his head hung low like he’s almost fallen asleep. “What are you getting?”

“The burger.”

“Is that on the menu?”

He opens up his hands, “Is it really America if a burger isn’t on the menu?”

Was he always this cryptic?

Will passed his phone along for everyone to make their choices and as the phone got closer to you, you stiffen.

“Bunny,” Frankie waved the phone in front of you.

His lips are parted under his moustache and suddenly that’s all you can focus on, that bottom lip just waiting to be bitten. The knot between his eyebrows tightens and you suddenly realise you’re not talking even though he’s said your name, your actual name.

“Uuuu—“

“She can’t see the menu,” Benny leaned in from behind you, coming into Frankie’s periphery.

Your cheeks grow hot as you press your lips together so hard they disappear.

“I’ll just order what I think you’ll like.”

A plate was placed in front of you and you were grateful Frankie did the ordering because fries topped with macaroni cheese and onion rings would definitely soak up the alcohol churning in your stomach. You also drank water, waiting until you got outside to order a Frozen Mint Julep.

Though the food hadn’t helped as much as you’d prayed it would.

You found yourself pressed between Will and Santiago as you walk, the pair of them keeping you on track to Italy.

As Benny went to get your drink, you looked up at the looming columns, squinting to try and make out the statues at the top, fully believing they weren’t there earlier. A hand came swiftly to your waist, gripping tightly as a shoulder propped your head back.

“Don’t think I’ll be doing that again,” your tongue is loose, the words luckily sounding right.

“You almost lost your ears, Bunny.”

You gasp, “Thank you, Santi!”

It was a poor excuse, he’d admit it but he could see your back arching in such a perfect curve that you were seconds away from hitting the floor. He set the ears firmly back on your head as you gave him a lopsided grin.

Benny returned with another frozen drink for you.

“Another frozen one?”

“They’ve not all been frozen, there was that one you liked… and that other one. Wait, what number am I on?”

“Seven, cariño.”

“So, when are you lot having your next round?”

Benny wrapped his arm around his brother and his best friend, his cheeks pink yet a broad smile set on his face.

“Where are we going next?”

“Germany,” Santiago glanced over his shoulder, holding onto you as you slowly sucked on a straw. Your doe eyes moved from people watching, honing in on his jaw where his stubble was getting longer.

Oh, the urge to touch it.

“I could do with a beer,” Will said.

“Yes, brother!”

It was the point in the drinking marathon where Benny forgot his own strength. The pat on the back he gave Will took the wind out of him and Frankie was almost wrestled to the ground as Benny’s arms locked around his neck.

There was a possibility the five of you could get kicked out of the park. Santiago felt something irritating on his chin, distracting him from what was unfolding.

“You’re getting a beard,” you stroke a fingertip over it.

He hummed, “You like it?”

“I dunno,” you say, eyes narrowing.

Ducking his head, his mouth came to the shell of your ear and you heard the smirk form on his lips.

“You won’t be saying that when you feel it between your thighs.”

The words travel, sinking to the bottom of your belly and something breaks through the alcohol induced fog in your mind.

“Oh.”

“You ready, Bunny?”

Your head snaps round to Benny, his head cocking to one side when he sees your startled expression. Smiling, you slip from Santiago and hold Benny’s outstretched hand. Yet you take a second look, a fleeting glance because you knew you were in danger, not tonight but soon.

“What did you say to her?”

“Nothing, just discussing my beard.”

Frankie grunted, he hated how his friend could grow a beard far better than he ever could.

In Will’s hand was a half serving of grapefruit beer that appeared comically small in comparison to his full one.

“It should have a citrusy flavour,” he says.

The main thing you can taste is beer and you weren’t sure, after the cocktails and slushies this wasn’t the same.

“Chug, chug, chug.”

“Benny, stop it, Santiago told me not to.”

Benny stared at his leader, his green eyes pleading with him. There isn’t a word spoken between them, a series of gestures causing Santiago to cave.

“The rules went out the window three countries ago, honey.”

“And we all know you can swallow.”

Frankie choked, erupting into laughter as Will shook his head.

“Benny, you’re gonna end up in Disney Jail with that mouth.”

He scoffs, “The jail isn’t real.”

“It is!” You almost spill your drink with the sheer enthusiasm of how you slap his chest, “I’ve seen the stories online.”

“They wouldn’t put me in there anyway,” he block his chest with his arms.

“And why’s that?”

There was genuine curiosity in your question.

“Because I look like that guy from the Tron sequel.”

You start to have a fit of giggles, at least Santiago looked enough like Poe Dameron to get hassled by the Stormtroopers at Galaxy’s Edge. The others were chuckling too.

“What?”

“Ten years ago, maybe,” Will countered.

Only his comment made you laugh more, the pain entering your ribs as it hurt to keep a straight face. You weren’t denying that Benny had some resemblance, it was years of being out on the battle field and then being in the ring that made him rougher around the edges. The guy in the film was baby faced or so you can remember.

Benny glared, “Now, you have to chug.”

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“You hurt my feelings, the only way to make me happy is to chug.”

“Is there anything else I can do?”

His one eyebrow raised.

Maybe there was somewhere private the pair of you could go, a hidden away corner, how busy would the bathrooms be? He had to push back the thoughts because he could not be horny in a theme park.

“Don’t give him any options, Bunny, just do it.”

All their eyes fell on you as you brought the rim of the plastic glass to your lips. You tipped it back cautiously at first before tipping your head back and screwing your eyes shut. The pink golden liquid went down all too easily and you heard Benny cheer as the last drop hit your tongue.

When you open your eyes, they’re all beaming at you. A sudden hiccup comes from deep in your chest and you press a hand to where your diaphragm is.

“That sounded like it hurt,” Will’s eyes flitted up and down your frame.

You nod, wincing as another one comes but as he steps forward to check on you, you wave him off.

“It’ll pass, don’t worry.”

The hiccups subside yet they were replaced, you felt lightheaded and your legs were legitimately turning into jelly. Frankie saw you flagging, giving you a helping hand across the bridge to China for drink number nine but you were beginning to regret your decision on the challenge.

You swirled your straw and watched the blueberry boba dance in between the ice. Your one arm was looped into Frankie’s as he slowly guided you to the next country, the other three going on ahead.

“Cariño,” he glanced down, expecting you to look up, “you’ve gone quiet on me.”

With those words, you grind to a halt. It’s like you wait for the other three to fold into the crowds before you break.

“I’m not going to make it, this was such a stupid idea.”

You immediately cover your face and you can’t stop the tears from coming. Frankie went from laid back to full blown military mode the moment your words caught in your throat. He got you away from the oncoming public, finding the nearest, tucked away corner he could spot from his vantage point.

There wasn’t a soul around them.

“Bunny,” his voice was gentle, his fingertips wrapping round the cup. “Look at me.”

Placing the remains of your drink on the wall, he pulls your focus to his face. He holds your cheeks with his broad hands, thumbs catching the tears before they could go any further. He breathed with you, in and out through your noses because that’s the way you’re meant to do it.

You fall so deep into his brown eyes, the park seemed to fade away and you grab his wrists to steady yourself.

“There we go, better?”

You blinked out of your hypnosis, nodding.

“How did yo—“

“Had my fair share of freak outs.”

A soft smile returns to your lips as you try to wipe away the mess that you assume is around your eyes, your makeup may or may not be waterproof.

“Why the sudden change of heart?”

Your teeth graze the flesh on the inside of your cheek as you play with your hands, the straw you’d been fidgeting with taken away.

“When I’ve had this much I usually embarrass myself or throw up or both and that’s not happened yet. Then I know Santiago will judge me and say how he knew this was gonna happen and Will will take pity on me and drag my sick covered front back to the hotel and Benny would laugh and go on about it for weeks…”

Frankie couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing, none of them would do that to you.

Ok, Benny would laugh, nervously, because he wouldn’t know how to react and then would go and vomit himself. Will would more than likely take off his shirt and walk around topless if he had to. Santiago would pay a fortune to get a taxi ten minutes out of Epcot or even further, Disney World itself to get you to the comfort of your own bed. Whilst Frankie, he would happily get you back to the hotel room and hold your hair all night whilst you continued to chuck up processed food into the toilet. He’d tap out only to head down to the food hall and pay fucking fifteen dollars for a big carton of fruit to get those vitamins back in your system.

They wouldn’t be embarrassed, they wouldn’t let you be embarrassed and if someone had made you feel that way for having fun and going a little overboard in the past, he wanted to initiate some form of pain to make him feel better. However, his only concern now was the fact you hadn’t taken a breath.

He squeezed your shoulder, a staggering breath from you followed.

“We’d never do that to you, you know that right?”

You splutter out a laugh as you nod your head, your mind was clearly playing tricks on you.

“There’s only two more to go and I kinda owe you a drink.”

“Yeah, you do.”

He puts his thumb back to your cheek and removes the last stray tears before bringing you close. He coils an arm around your back, pressing you into his chest to hear his soothing heartbeat. You could contentedly spend the rest of your time like this but your feet were itching to go.

“I’m gonna finish my boba,” you stretch to grab the cup, “they might help line my stomach.”

“I don’t think they’re gonna help.”

When the pair of you arrive at Norway, you excuse yourself to go and check your reflection, Frankie went and found the others.

“How’s she doing?”

“Just a little bump in the road,” he shrugged as if it was nothing.

In the distance, they heard a cast member call someone out for running and Santiago knew it could only be one person. He caught you speed walking round the corner, waiting until there were no more watchful eyes to continue running.

“We should go and meet Anna and Elsa,” you bang your hands on the table.

“I’m down for that.”

Benny shut his mouth before he expressed that Elsa was hot.

“I’m sure the princesses would prefer to not meet two intoxicated town folk,” Will passed you a pretzel shaped pastry. “Maybe another day.”

Your food is accompanied by a Frozen Viking Coffee because they thought it was a better option than beer, they’d live with the repercussions of you being buzzed.

“Did you get told off for running?”

Santiago had that smug look across his face as the heat in your cheeks rose.

“Maybe.”

Will gave you that smile that makes you soften at the edges and now it was hard to look at either of them.

“I’m getting the next round.”

“You serious, Fish?” Benny got a glint in his eye. “You know Mexico is next and we could finish the day with—“

“We are not having shots.”

“Why not?”

“Everyone’s gotta make it back.”

Benny sighed but then he saw your shimmering, wide eyes looking back at him, the drink they got you going down way too fast. Honestly, he thought you would have been defeated by now, possibly a crying, drunken mess but you weren’t. He was proud of you.

“I’m gonna win,” your words don’t come out that precise.

“Of course you are, Bunny.”

His words are equally as slurred.

There was a novelty in watching you and Benny try to make it to Mexico. The location was obvious, a brown brick pyramid that was a beckon to where you needed to go except you two were going straight past it.

“We’ll head to the bar, you grab them.”

Will nodded, wandering over to the pair of you to an accompanying cheer.

Santiago and Frankie find the most popular bar in the place, by some miracle snatching the last table.

Somehow, the three of you make it inside the pyramid and immediately you comment on how dark it was. Will had your arm hooked in his, his brother refusing help even as he stumbled down the steps. Giggling as you came in, there were drinks already on the table.

“I’m surprised you got them here in one piece.”

“We had a close call.”

Will wouldn’t go into details with Santiago, he didn’t know how he’d handle you falling up the stairs and almost cracking your head on a step if your instincts hadn’t kicked in and saved you.

“Not so fast, we’ve got to cheers first.”

Frankie made sure you took the one luminous green in colour before all five of you clinked your glasses and took a sip. You smacked your lips after to make sure you got the salt from your skin.

“Good?”

“Not as good as yours.”

“You don’t need to flatter me.”

“I’m not lying though,” you wink.

Frankie made the best margaritas, he would host special evenings just to make them, always finding the best bottle of tequila at barbecues. He also never added any fancy ingredients unlike this one, who needs avocado in a drink anyway?

You took your time with this one, sipped carefully and tried to embrace the moment. All of you sat round a table, laughing and joking. Benny had tucked you underneath his arm, pulled you in to lean you against his frame as you play footsie under the table with Will.

“I’m gonna head out for some nachos,” Benny unravels himself from you.

There were glances between Frankie and Will before Frankie suggests joining him.

“I’ve not finished my drink,” you moan.

Benny bent down, cupping one side of your face with his palm. He brings your attention fully to him.

“Don’t rush,” he kissed your cheek sloppily. “I really need to get some food down me.”

Then he crashes his lips into yours with so much force it knocks you back. As him and Frankie walk away, you start to giggle.

“He’s so drunk…”

Santiago chuckles.

“And so am I,” you thrust your arms up.

Will drops his head, smiling, “You ready to head back soon, sweetheart?”

“But what about the show?”

“You’re gonna fall asleep before the show starts, honey. We’re taking you and Benny back to the hotel.”

It was easier said than done.

The moment you stepped outside the pyramid, the fresh air hit you and suddenly came the realisation that you were intoxicated more than you’ve ever been in your lifetime. You freeze at the top of the stairs, the view ahead of you going fuzzy at the edges and there’s two Santiagos and two Wills.

“It’s ok, Bunny,” Will was stretching out his hand and taking one of yours firmly. “Hold onto the handrail.”

There were other sets of eyes on you, those you didn’t know as you shakily held onto the thick wooden rail, cautiously going down each individual step.

“If you make it to where benny and Fish are, I’ll carry you home, yeah?”

You deliver a feeble nod and slowly your feet catch up with what your brain is telling them. Wobbling, you move one foot in front of the other, nails burying into Will’s hand as you hold on for dear life. Frankie was trying not to laugh.

“You’re adorable when you’re drunk.”

“Shut up,” you whine at Benny before taking a chip from his depleted box.

“How are we gonna do this?”

Frankie was worried, it took you almost four minutes to do something that took him a minute.

“Don’t worry, I got this, brother.”

While you were distracted, Will crouched down and squeezed into the gap between you and Benny. Instinctively, Benny moved back as his brother grabbed behind your knees. You flopped forward, protesting as he lifted himself up, your arm ravelling around his neck to stay upright. He forced you a little higher so he could get a better hold before turning to Frankie, who stood with his mouth open.

Santiago shrugged, “I suppose it’ll work.”

“I lost my ears.”

“I’ll get your ears, honey.”

“Don’t stretch them.”

He rolled his eyes, why on earth would he put on neon pink ears with pom pom detailing and a massive yellow bow? They rattled as he picked them up and then he started to shake them like maracas.

“What have you done to them?” You ask accusingly.

“Nothing, you didn’t realise they did that?”

“No,” you throw out a hand, “gimme!”

Santiago stepped back, the corner of his lips curling. Will dug deeper into your thighs as you leaned further to try and nab the ears back. You huffed before giving up the fight, sulking against Will’s shoulder.

Seconds later, Santiago slipped them onto your head.

You don’t know why the boys were making such a fuss, you could have made it to the bus. The driver mentioned how you were all going to miss the show later but Santiago said you’d already had too much fun. You rested your eyes, head relaxing to Benny’s shoulder as he continued to talk and talk, barely making any sense.

“I’m gonna pick up something,” Frankie motioned to reception, leaving Will and Santiago to take care of you.

“Where’s Frankie going?”

“He won’t be long, sweetheart.”

You grumble something incoherently, staggering forward and following the group. They barely got you through the door before you were removing your clothes.

“Fuck, Bunny, at least let me close the door.”

However your mind was focused on getting into bed, pulling off your top and yanking down your jeans. Benny had already thrown himself onto the available queen, arms spread wide, hopeful that you’d join him. You strip to a cute lilac underwear set, thinking this morning that at least one of them would see them.

Benny’s eyes flit up and down, he likes what he sees but as you step wobbling towards him, he’s aware he’s not going to get any action. You crawl and snuggle into his frame with an exasperated sigh.

“Aw, you tired, baby?”

Even in your clouded head, you knew Benny had never called you that before, you blame the alcohol. You respond with a single grunt, eyes already closed.

He envelops your body, lightly touching the areas he hasn’t seen all day. Your sigh comes softer this time, limbs relaxing as you settle your head into the crook of his neck. You note the citrusy undertones of his aftershave as you breathe him in, your final big breath before sleep takes you.

Feeling your weight slump, he kisses you on the cheek and temple just as he gets himself comfy.

When Frankie arrives, the two of you are out for the count, Santiago and Will having snuck onto the balcony.

“How much did that cost you?”

Frankie glanced at the plastic container in his hand, “All my snack credits.”

Santiago scoffed, “Thought you were gonna have a turkey leg.”

“I ain’t eating that shit.”

He’d seen them, they looked questionable, no turkey leg should be that big. Ducking back inside, he placed the fruit in the kitchenette before grabbing himself a drink, joining them to watch the sunset.

Benny’s arm had gone dead and his mouth was dry. He tactfully got himself out from underneath you though he’s sure you’re so far gone, you’ll be out the rest of the night. He unbuttoned his shirt and abandoned it on the bed with his hat, walking unsteadily around the room to find water.

He found a litre bottle and went to the balcony, opening the door a fraction to keep the sound from travelling in.

You don’t know what brought you out of your slumber but the awareness of being on your own was enough to get you out of bed.

“Fuck,” you say, stumbling from the tall bed frame.

Bleary eyed, you blink and wait for the room to come into view. It took a minute or two for you to remember where you were, turning to face a giant painting of Donald Duck with his three nephews on a hike. You decide to freshen your face, wiping off the make up before splashing yourself with cold water.

Picking up Benny’s appropriately themed shirt, you throw it on and then spot Santiago’s sunglasses on the giant chest.

“There she is!”

Your expression scrunches, “Argh, Benny, too much.”

The boys had managed to move the table inside and squeezed all the chairs they could on the balcony.

“There’s some fruit in the kitchenette, let me get it you.”

Frankie climbed over the back of his seat to get out, wrapping his arm around your waist to bring you a fraction closer. His lips meet your temple gently.

“Thank you.”

He nodded and went inside.

“Whose lap you gonna sit on?”

“No offence to Will and Santiago, you’re closest.”

“None taken,” Will was cradling a beer, shoved in the far corner by the railing.

Hooking your leg over the arm of the chair, you bring up the other and settle on Benny. His arm coils around you as he reaches down for the bottle of water and you gladly take it from him.

You gasp as Frankie returns with the carton of fruit, enough to last you the next few days. He hoisted himself back over the chair, settling down once again.

Benny propped his chin on your shoulder, opening his mouth as you pluck some berries from the pack. He sucks the juices from your fingers as you place them in his mouth.

“Can we see the fireworks from here?”

Santiago looks around the group, hoping someone else would admit it, there was no way in hell they were going to pay over a hundred dollars more just to see a bunch of pretty lights.

“Pool side view, sorry, honey.”

He didn’t like to disappoint you but you seemed unfazed.

“They probably want a fortune for it anyway,” you shrug, “and I think I’m ok with the view right here.”

They all groan at how cheesy it sounds, knowing that you were talking about them and not the fake mountainous waterfall down below.

“You’re gonna make Pope throw up, Bunny.”

You shove some fruit in Benny’s mouth to shut him up.

“I’m coming out in hives just being here.”

Rolling your eyes, you allow them to continue with their banter. You’re grateful you didn’t put into words what you were thinking in your head because, sure, people say Disney is the happiest place on earth but you believe here is even happier.

#triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier x you #triple frontier #triple frontier fluff #santiago garcia #benny miller #will ironhead miller #frankie catfish morales #fluff