#air makes a ton of sense i read write like i breathe

[theglamourempress]

I also splurged on books today, $1 for 4 fiction books. I truly deserve to read for fun 🫶🏽❤️‍🔥

#found out air and WATER are my benefic elements #air makes a ton of sense i read write like i breathe

[joelmillerisapunk]

Greece 1.5 ~ S.O.S

Soft daddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist ♥︎ Soft Daddy Masterlist

Wordcount: 3,060

Summary: The one where you tell Joel you're pregnant

Warnings: 18+, mentions of pregnancy and pregnancy tests, anxiety, panic, Joel receiving this news and reacting

Notes: A filler between Greece and the next destination. Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, and/or reblogged this au. It was only ever meant to be a one-shot, but I am so grateful for the love it received. Writing this has been so very therapeutic for me and fun, and it's all because of you amazing peeps. Thank you, @saradika-graphics , for the dividers 🥰

As you go through the motions of packing your bags, your thoughts are in a tumultuous storm. You can hardly believe the result of the pregnancy test you took this morning, a tiny stick that holds the power to change your life forever. The two pink lines staring back at you confirmed your worst fears and ignited a whirlwind of emotions within you. Fear, excitement, and uncertainty all battle for dominance in your heart, and you can't shake the feeling that everything is about to change. You'd hoped it was a false positive. But here you are. You're pregnant. The news hits you like a ton of bricks, and you're not sure what to do next. You consider waiting to tell Joel until after your trip is over, but you know that's not fair to him. He has a right to know, and you want to be honest with him.

You picture Joel's face when you tell him the news, the shock and disbelief that will surely follow. You wonder how he'll react, whether he'll be happy or scared, angry or confused. You imagine him wanting to take control of the situation, to take care of you and the baby, and the thought warms your heart. But you also fear his rejection, the possibility that he might not want to be a father, or worse, that he might not want to be with you after this. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts. You need to talk to Joel, to tell him what's going on and see what he thinks. Maybe this is a good thing, a sign that your relationship is meant to be.

As you take one last, lingering look around the room, you can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. The memories you've made here with Joel have been nothing short of extraordinary - filled with love, laughter, and a sense of adventure that has left you both breathless and exhilarated. You take a mental snapshot of the room as it is now - the rumpled sheets on the bed, the scattered books and papers on the floor, the faint scent of coffee and citrus that seems to linger in the air.

As you make your way out to the balcony, you take a deep breath, savoring the salty tang of the ocean air and the gentle rustle of the palm fronds overhead. Joel is sitting there, his gaze fixed on the horizon, and for a moment, you simply watch him, taking in the strong line of his jaw and the way the sunlight glints off his hair. You hesitate for just a moment before approaching him, feeling nervous. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation ahead.

"Hey," you say softly, taking a seat next to him.

He looks up, a smile on his face. "Hey, princess," he says, taking your hand in his.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "Joel, there's something I need to tell you."

His smile fades, and he looks at you with concern. "What is it, darlin? What's wrong, are you okay?"

"I'm pregnant," you whisper.

His eyes widen, and he looks at you in shock. "What?"

You nod, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "I took a test last night, and this morning, both were positive.” As the words leave your lips, Joel's expression changes from one of joy to one of shock and disbelief. His face pales, and he stands up abruptly, as if he's been physically struck. You watch in confusion as he stumbles towards the door, mumbling something about needing some air. Before you can say or do anything, he's gone, leaving you sitting alone on the balcony.

The breeze rustles the palm leaves above you, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore below fills the air. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the enormity of what you've just revealed weighs heavily on your shoulders. You curl your legs up onto the chair, wrapping your arms around your knees, as you try to make sense of what just happened. You can't blame Joel for his reaction. You understand that he needs time to process the news, but it still stings to have him walk away without saying a word.

—

Joel paces back and forth on the beach, running his hands through his hair as he tries to process the news you just gave him. He mutters to himself, "Pregnant? How? I mean, I know how, but...what?" He stops and looks out at the sea, taking deep breaths as he tries to calm down. But his thoughts are racing, and he can't seem to focus on anything but the word pregnant repeating in his mind.

He starts pacing again, kicking at the sand as he goes. He's never been in this situation before, and he's not sure what to do. He doesn't want to be a father, not right now. He's already done that. But he knows that's not an option. You're carrying his child, and he can't just abandon you. He stops and looks at the sea again, feeling overwhelmed. He's not sure how he can be a good father, not after what happened to Sarah. He couldn't handle that again. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, trying to steady his nerves. He knows he needs to talk to you to tell you what he's feeling, but he's not sure how.

—

You wait for what seems like an eternity, but Joel doesn't come back. You start to worry, wondering if he's okay. You decide to go look for him, and when you do, you find him outside, sitting on a bench with his head in his hands. He looks up as you approach, and you can see the fear and uncertainty in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, darlin," he says, his voice shaking. "I didn't mean to leave like that. I just needed some time to think."

You nod, understanding his reaction. You sit down next to him, and he takes your hand in his, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. Joel takes a deep breath and looks at you, his eyes filled with fear and uncertainty. "I'm scared, darlin'. I'm scared of what this means for us, for our future. I'm scared of failin’ you and the baby."

"I'm scared too, Joel. But we'll figure it out."

Joel looks at you, his eyes searching yours for something, anything. "But what if I can't be a good father? What if all I'm good at is failing?”

The vulnerability in his voice takes you aback. You never imagined Joel, the strong and confident man you've come to know and love, could feel this way. You take his hand in both of yours, your eyes meeting his. "Joel, you are a good person. You have overcome so much in your life, and you have so much love to give. I believe in you, and I know that you will be an amazing father if you want, but if not,” You pause as more tears threaten to fall, “if not then we can end the trip here and go our separate ways. I'm giving you an out.” You look down at the sand as the tears pour from your face, and suddenly you're sobbing into your hands.

Joel gently takes your hands away from your face and places his there instead, holding you like you're the most delicate thing in the world. Looking into your eyes, he can see the fear and uncertainty in them, and it breaks his heart. He takes a deep breath, "Darlin', I love you. I have loved you from the moment I met you. And I want to be with you, always. I want to be there for you and our baby. I'm not gonna leave.”

You look up at him, tears still streaming down your face. "Really?”

He nods, a small smile on his face. "Yes, really. I want to be a family with you. I want to build a life with you. I want to be the father that our child deserves. I may not be perfect, but I'll do everything in my power to be there for you both.”

You feel a sense of relief wash over you. "Thank you, Joel. Thank you for being here for me, for us."

Joel smiles, his eyes softening. "Always, darlin'. Always."

You lean in and kiss him, feeling a sense of closeness and connection that you've never felt before. When you pull away, you can see the love and adoration in his eyes, and you know that everything is going to be okay.

—

As your flight to France draws near, you take time to rest, feeling the fatigue from the emotional morning catch up to you. After your tearful conversation, Joel takes it upon himself to go out and buy you some essentials. He knows that you'll need all the support you can get during this pregnancy, and he wants to do everything in his power to help you. So he walks down the bustling streets of Greece, taking in the sights and sounds of the market. He heads to a florist first, picking out a beautiful bouquet of pink and white roses. The florist wraps them up carefully, and Joel can't help but smile as he takes them in his hands. He knows they'll just be left here when you leave, but he gets them anyway, hoping to brighten your mood.

Next, he heads to a small café, where he orders a box of pastries, a few sandwiches, and two cups of hot coffee. He knows that you've been feeling a bit nauseous, but he's hoping that the smell of fresh coffee will help perk you up. After that, he makes his way to a health food store, where he picks up some prenatal vitamins and other supplements. He's not entirely sure what you'll need, so he grabs one of anything that seems helpful.

As he walks back to the villa, Joel can't help but feel a sense of anticipation. He knows that this pregnancy is going to be a challenge and change his life forever. He wants to be there for you every step of the way, providing you with the love and support that you need, more than ever, but he can't help feeling a sense of doubt in himself.

Could he really do this all over again without failing?

—

The villa is quiet and peaceful, the only sound being the soft rhythm of your breathing as you sleep. Joel enters the room, his footsteps light on the plush carpet. He looks at you with a soft smile on his face as he watches you sleep. You look so beautiful, so peaceful that he feels a pang in his heart, wondering how you must be feeling. He quietly sets up a little display for you, with the flowers in a vase, the food, and the vitamins, all laid out on the table. With everything in place, Joel grabs his cup of coffee and takes a seat at the table, his eyes never leaving you.

As time passes, Joel decides to step out onto the balcony overlooking the sea. The view is breathtaking, the endless expanse of blue water stretching out before him. He takes a deep breath, feeling the salty air fill his lungs and pulls out the box with the engagement ring he's picked out for you from his pocket, and the delicate gem gleams in the sunlight. He knows now more than ever that this is the right decision, that his plans to propose in France will definitely go forward. He wants to spend the rest of his life with you, to build a family and a future together.

—

You slowly open your eyes, the sleep still lingering in your limbs. As you sit up, you're greeted by the mouth-watering aroma of freshly brewed coffee and buttery pastries. Your eyes widen in surprise as you take in the beautiful display Joel has set up on the table. A vase filled with an array of bright and colorful flowers sits prominently in the center, surrounded by an assortment of foods, vitamins, and prenatal supplements. “Joel what is all this?”

"Thought you might need some stuff to help you through the pregnancy. I wasn't sure if you're allowed coffee, but I figured one cup won't hurt."

You smile, feeling a sense of gratitude and love for Joel. He's been so supportive and kind, and you know that he's going to be an amazing father. You take a sip of the coffee, feeling the warmth spread through your body.

—

As the two of you make your way to the airport, you can't help but feel a sense of anxiety. This trip has already been a whirlwind, and the news of your pregnancy has only added to the drama. As you board the plane, Joel notices a familiar face in first class. It's a woman he used to know back when he was married, a wealthy socialite who always seemed to have her sights set on him. She sees him as well, and a sly smile spreads across her face. "Well, well, well, if it isn't Joel Miller," she purrs. "And who is this little thing by your side? Certainly not the sort of woman I'd expect to see with a man like you." She eyes you up and down.

You feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment, but Joel just smiles. "Now, now, Elizabeth, there's no need to be rude. This is my partner, and she's pregnant with my child. I'd appreciate it if you'd show her some respect."

Elizabeth raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "Pregnant? Well, congratulations, I suppose. I never took you for the family type, Joel, not after what happened to - whatever her name was. But I guess we all have our secrets, don't we?"

You can feel your anger rising, but Joel just shakes his head. "Elizabeth, please. We're just trying to enjoy our trip."

Elizabeth sighs, clearly disappointed. "Fine, Joel. I'll leave you to your...family. But don't expect me to roll out the red carpet for your little ragamuffin here. She's not exactly the type of person I'd expect to see in first class." With that, she turns on her heel and walks away, leaving you and Joel sitting there in shock.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea she'd be on this flight. She's always had a bit of a mean streak."

You sigh, leaning into his embrace. "It's okay, Joel. I know she was just trying to get a reaction out of you. But you didn't have to announce that I'm pregnant, I mean, we just found out, why'd you tell her?”

Joel looks at you with a sheepish expression. "I'm sorry, princess. I didn't mean to blurt it out like that. I guess I just wanted to prove to her that I'm not the same man I used to be, that I've changed and grown. I wanted her to know that I'm happy, that I'm in love. I wanted her to see that I'm not alone, that I have you and the baby, and that I don't need her or anyone else from that damn circle."

"I know, Joel. And I'm proud of you, I really am. It's just a lot to take in, that's all.” You sigh

The rest of the flight is tense and heavy, with both of you lost in your own thoughts. You can't shake off the encounter with Elizabeth, and you can tell that Joel is still feeling guilty for blurting out your pregnancy. But despite the awkwardness, you find comfort in Joel's presence, his warm hand holds yours as the plane begins its descent. You feel a sudden surge of excitement. You've never been to France before, and you can't wait to explore the city of love with Joel.

“You wanna watch a movie? It'll help pass the time.” Joel offers, and you agree.

As the two of you settle into your seats and the movie begins, Joel can't help but feel a sense of guilt and unease. He keeps replaying the encounter with Elizabeth in his mind, wondering if he made a mistake by revealing your pregnancy to her. He knows that he only did it to prove a point, but he can't shake off the feeling that he's failed you in some way.

He looks over at you halfway through the movie to find you sleeping peacefully next to him. He can't help but feel overwhelmed by the weight of his past, by the memories of his failed marriage and the loss of his firstborn child. His mind drifts to the future and all the challenges that it may bring. He knows that he's made mistakes in the past, but he's determined to do better this time around. He looks over at you again, your face illuminated by the soft glow of the movie screen, and he feels a sense of peace wash over him. Maybe he can do this.

As the movie comes to an end, Joel takes your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. You open your eyes, looking up at him with a sleepy smile. "Hey princess" he says, his voice soft.

"Hey," you reply, yawning. "What time is it?"

"We're about to land."

You look out the window as the plane descends, watching as the green fields and rolling hills of the countryside give way to the bustling cityscape of Paris. The Eiffel Tower looms in the distance, a symbol of love and romance that seems to promise a brighter future.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Can you make a part 2 of your death x reader??? I loved it so much and I would love to read more💘💘

I enjoyed writing for him, so I will continue this! See this as their little 'date'! I made this one oddly sad, but hope you still like it!

Part 1 | Part 2

-

An Altercation with Death Part 2

He was late. Incredibly late.

You were not surprised though: your hopes and expectations of seeing him were dwindling. Finishing work for the rest of the afternoon was a struggle when you just had him on your mind, but also on what you had just done.

Was I being too forward? Was he just being polite?

You finished up work in the early evening, walking away from the vibrant town, up the cobbled slopes towards your secluded home. It was quaint, yet sometimes lonely.

You sighed in the cooling air, hugging yourself with your cardigan as the only source of warmth. “Of course, I overstepped, like always.”

“Buenas noches, corderito.”

You looked up, eyes darting over to the dead, wilting tree, a shadow emerging from its rotting bark, tall and imposing, the wolf appeared with red eyes gleaming.

“Lobo,” You breathed a sigh of relief, certain your heartbeat could be heard, erratically beating. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“Apologies for startling you,” he lowered his hood, his pointed ears spoking upwards, grey smoke fur standing out in the contrast of the moonlight. “I have been quite busy.”

“I can tell.” You murmured, and the realisation hit you like a ton of bricks; the height difference! You barely came up to his hip, and he stood imposing and towering.

It had come to you to realise you had been caught staring at him, noticing the way he stalked closer and closer towards you, gauging how you would react or even at all when you were caught in a daydream once again. Dios mío, think, Y/N! Think!

You coughed awkwardly, trying to find the right words and to not feel so uneasy. “So, what do you want to do?”

There was amusement and intrigue mixed in his crimson gaze. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we’re both free all evening… would you like to go and do something?”

“How about going for a meal?”

Your expression lit up, it was an indication to him that this was a great idea. “Of course! Ooh, I’ve heard of this really good tapas and patatas bravas.”

Something in his eyes lit up too; was it fascination, interest? It was uncertain. The wolf, close enough, knelt to be eye level with you, his long snout gracing your ear as he whispered lowly. “Wherever you, go, I’ll follow, chica.”

You could’ve mistaken your face had betray you: the way he whispered so huskily in your ear, the warmth of his face so close to yours, the pure power that was raw and radiating off of him. He could’ve easily pinned you down to the ground and ravaged you whole, and something about that both ignited the flight or fight mode within you.

“Okay!” You side-stepped closely away from him before he could sense your bashfulness. It was amusing for Lobo, watching you stumble away from him as he sauntered behind you.

He followed not far behind you as you led the way, back down towards town as life filled the streets in the late evening. All walks of life were situated everywhere: music filled the streets, food and smells of all flavours filled your nostrils. It gave you the best idea for everything: how would Muerte think if you got him a sweet treat?

You found the small restaurant, surprised when the waiter asked if it had been a table for one, when you looked back over behind you. “Oh no, it’s me and—” You were expecting the wolf’s looming figure to stand behind you, instead, met with the open, cooling air. “Ah, I’m waiting for someone.”

“Of course, señorita.”

The waiter directed you to a small table in the corner, forgotten and left for all to ignore, as the waiter ran off to grab two menus, you felt a warm, familiar hand press into your waist, something fuzzy and soft brush up against your side. “This is a nice table.”

“Lobo! Where did you run off to?” You scolded lightly, the two of you sitting as the waiter returned, taking your orders. It was odd: how the waiter didn’t even regsiter Muerte sitting there opposite you. Where you losing your mind? How could anyone not spot him there?

“I swear I seem strange to others.”

Muerte was sipping his drink when he met your gaze, “How so?”

“Well, that waiter looked at me like I was having a meal with an imaginary friend.” You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. “I mean, it’s not hard to notice you. I thought it would’ve been the opposite way round.”

“Well, it’s hard not to miss a corderito like you.” He said, but there was a indiference to his words. It was as if he was never bothered by being unnoticed. How could someone like him want to be ignored? You thought, observing him.

“Do you come out often?”

“Many times, actually,” he chewed at his meal. “Though never once have I been invited on a date before.” He grinned when he said that one word, and your heart nearly collasped in your chest.

“Date—where did you-”

“You said to that cabra idiota yourself, you were seeing someone, hmm?”

You buried your face in your hands, trying your best not to scream in embarassment. If the earth could swallow you whole, it would’ve done so by now, but no, you were faced with the teasing of a wolf who enjoyed it clearly.

Would you have called it date? Or was he just teasing? “I—It was never discussed, I just thought-”

“Oh, so you didn’t want to go for one?” He smirked.

“Yes! I mean no! Ah, you’re making this difficult for me.” Your fur felt hot on your face, and when you heard the light, easy-going chuckle come from in front of you, you couldn’t help but think he was just doing it to annoy you.

“Ah you’re really cute when you get flustered.” He sighed, continuing on as if he hadn’t put that compliment out there in the open. He finished his meal and you gave the rest of yours for him to finish (it was hard to when you remained flustered for the rest of your ‘date’).

The two of you paid and left with few words spoken, except your mind was whirred and spinning with all sorts of questions. The less you spoke and the minutes ticked by, the more you panicked.

“Hey, I’m sorry for making it this-“ You turned on your heel as you kept walking, clumsily your foot got caught on a broken cobble piece, stumbling forwards so quickly, you didn’t have any time to register that your body was falling too fast.

The ground was what you expected to meet, and when you braced for the hard earth, you didn’t expect to be enveloped in the warm and soft arms. A smell of cedar and pine surrounded you gently, arms catching you with ease.

“Falling for me, huh, corderito?”

You blinked, warmth spreading through you, heart racing in the cage of your chest. No way did you catch you. It was only until it dawned on you that your feet weren’t touching the ground, you found yourself eye to eye level with Muerte.

“Ah,” you looked away from him, trying not to look directly in his teasing gaze, his bloodshot eyes were vivid and glowing, “I wasn’t expecting that to happen.”

Muerte didn’t seem bothered by the clumsiness that came from you, rather there was amusement in the way he held you. “Careful now, you may fall into the arms of the wrong guy.”

“Why, you worried I’ll jump into some bad guy’s arms?” You were the one to inquire teasingingly. Muerte met your gaze, and that alone had made you shudder. He didn’t need to lean that far into your face, inches from you. “Puede atraer a las personas equivocadas.”

It took everything in your body not to surge forward and kiss him: the way he was so close and inviting. The silence could’ve been broken with a pin dropping, neither of you speaking yet only staring for some time. With some relcutance, he settled you back down, and you almost realised how badly you missed the way he held you.

“Come now, let’s get you back home.”

-

The walk back up the hill was silent yet not as awkward as you thought it would be. The air was filled with the growing sounds of music, growing quieter the further you left the town. When you looked across the town, it was tiny in comparison to how it felt being surrounded down there; you felt like a giant, looking over tiny ants.

“It’s peaceful, isn’t it?” You asked Lobo after some time.

“It is, but wouldn’t you grow restless after some time up here, alone?” His voice dragged the last word out. It was like a hush or murmur of the wind, starlting and haunting, yet his presence alone made you feel surprisingly safe.

“I’ve been up here for quite some time. And though, I’m jealous of my friends who live directly there, I don’t think I could ever be down there, all the time.” You laughed to yourself, hugging your smaller body.

Lobo hummed in thought, moving ahead as if he knew the way back to yours. “It is something I would rather agree on.”

Neither of you said anything again as he led, but you had time to think about what he said. Was he lonely? How could he be—it wasn’t as if you knew what his personal life was before the two of you met, but it was a curisity you held the more you were with him.

“Do you ever get lonely?”

He paused in movement, and you observed the way his long ear twitched, unaffected by the chill of the night. “Sometimes,” he drawled thoughtfully. “I think I’ve grown used to being ignored, only for a time.”

“How so?”

“I wander these lands, watching. It is rather what I would say my job is in this world, and I’ve been doing it for some time. I watch, observe those, watch them live their lives; get married, have kin, have their highs and lows in life, and when it begins to draw to an end, I come in, give them a hand and we move on.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “Though, I do get a thrill in those who don’t spend their life well. It’s quite fun to get a change once in a while.”

“Lobo,” you spoke carefully. “When you said your name was Muerte, you weren’t joking-“

“I am Death, yes.” He spoke coolly, the flickering of his cape came up for a moment, and something silver glinted on the side of his thigh, disappearing before you could even register what it was. “I come and go when it’s time for being to move on, and I’ll do the same with you.”

You felt rigid in your spot, looking up at him in both horror and twisted curiousity. “Do you know when my time will come? It’s… not tonight, is it?”

“No,” his was a odd sense of reassurance, “You will live a good, long life, I know that.” He knelt down to you, approaching you as if you were an injured animal. “I have enjoyed this one night of a break, and I enjoyed it with you.” He was kind and careful to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, standing back to his full height once more. “We will meet again, sometime, Y/N.”

“Yes.” You didn’t understand his words at first, too hopeful, too joyful to see him, and when you blinked he was gone once more.

No, it wasn’t a hopeful expectation you would see him soon, it was a see you again when your time comes.

#death puss in boots x reader #death puss in boots #muerte x reader #puss in boots the last wish #puss in boots death #death pibtlw #death x reader #female reader #part 2 #x reader

[applestorms]

i'm in a bit of a john mood atm, so i wanted to write a post about some of the things that i think fanon gets wrong about him. the biggest thing is that imo a lot of people flatten john a ton in considering him the poster child for Homestuck™ as a story, which sucks because i think it should go the opposite way around. he's the prototype kid, yes, but that just means his unique traits have interesting implications for the rest of the story and homestuck's core themes, not that he doesnt have any unique traits to begin with. john informs homestuck of its themes, the story doesn't inform him of his character traits; sburb gives him the kernelsprite, but he & his friends are the ones doing the prototyping.

so, then, what are those character traits? who is john as a person and how does that inform the story as a whole?

TL;DR: if jade's overarching story arc is about the struggle of loneliness & isolation, john's is about the feeling of falling behind your peers, which is why i think his ending the story depressed works so well

trapped in the s(u)burbs

okay, argument: SBURB is clearly pronounced "sss-burb," like suburb but skipping over the first u. when the kids enter the session they are basically trapped in the world of the game until they can beat it and make the new universe -> they are trapped in the s(u)burbs -> they are home, stuck.

this is a weird line of thought but it's kinda interesting to go through the ways that the (human) kids are trapped in their homes, both physically and emotionally. rose is stuck in that she lives seemingly in the middle of fuckin' nowhere surrounded by a forest, dave is stuck in his apartment due to being watched by an abusive parent, and jade, jake, roxy, & dirk are all stuck in the middle of the ocean. john (and jane) however? they're just in the suburbs.

idk how much this cultural context translates to people living in other countries, but john & jane's original neighborhood is the fucking Epitome of modern american suburbia. i cannot emphasize enough just how much i fucking despise neighborhoods like this: sprawling and empty, they are a modern labyrinth to navigate. every single house looks like it was copy and pasted one spot over, the streets are all named the same thing but with slight differences ("Bluejay Road" vs. "Bluejay Lane" vs "Bluebird Court" HELL), driving through them is agony and walking is impossible. my dad pointed out to me one time that every single house looks like it was painted with a different shade of baby shit and he was correct. and this is not even mentioning the people that live there: i don't want to overgeneralize too much, but these houses are usually pretty big and the fact that they're supposed to be a "safer" place to raise kids makes them decently expensive, so these places are generally very white, very upper-middle class, and you can just. Feel It in the air

so this is where john starts his story. the page (A1:82) was one of the first things that caught my eye when reading homestuck originally, even as a dumb little preteen the age of the characters themselves with barely any greater social consciousness. john starts the story fucking around in his room, talking to all of his friends online, and who could ever blame him when it's such an american wasteland outside. not to get too far into my opinions on american architecture, but if you live anywhere in the united states and ESPECIALLY the suburbs you are basically trapped in the house until you can get your license at 16, transportation entirely at the whims of where your parents can/want to drive you. it makes sense, then, that john's aspect is breath and so heavily tied to transportation, a desire to get out and moving and interacting with the world. the sick irony of sburb, imo, is how that desire is later twisted against him.

when john first enters the session, meteors are beginning to destroy the world and the rest of the entire human population of earth. but to a kid for whom the entire world feels so far away and empty, how much does that really matter? especially when your internet friends, the few people you actually care about, are just going to enter the same game and escape along with you. speaking of,

2. social anxiety & internet friends

one thing i really like about the alpha kids is the fact that you can kinda reverse engineer them and their core character traits from the beta kids, which actually still works within the logic of canon if you consider their biological relationships. not only do the alphas and betas share chumhandle initials, but the person they share with is also the person they are most similar to across generational lines:

rose & dirk are both anal retentive motherfuckers + rose's interest in psychology informs dirk's interest in philosophy/old greek dudes, roxy & dave care about their friends to a fault and serve their needs constantly (emotionally vs. practically, maybe; and also maybe are in love with all their friends to some degree or another too?), jane & jade both have ties with their respective universe-iteration's first guardian and are mentally separated from everyone else at the start of their arcs (jane by not believing roxy and jade by getting prospit visions).

imo rose & dirk have the strongest connection and jade & jane the weakest, and each kid is also pretty unique on their own + informed by their more direct familial relationship too, but i think the chumhandle connection is key in understanding how the characters were initially created in terms of basic personalities, likes, dislikes, etc. since it fits with the stacking nature of how homestuck as a whole functions, both as a story and a world.

so: john & jake. i think fandom has actually done a good job with learning how to appreciate jake better in recent years by figuring out just how much of a persona he puts on to hide his intelligence, but since this is a john post, what's really interesting to me is how that might inform the way we view john.

to start, there are some really obvious connections between john & jake that are as clear as jake's first letter to john (A4:1955): both like pretty shitty movies, are allergic to peanuts, and they're practically identical in terms of appearance. what i see as the key connection however, which informs the entirety of homestuck's medium, is their shared social anxiety.

jake is a very socially anxious dude. all of the alphas are characterized by their inability to communicate and navigate interpersonal relationships, but this is especially true for jake, and i think the most obvious evidence for this is in the specific kind of character that he creates for himself. while realistically we know that jake spends most of his time (pre-brobot, at least) watching movies alone in his room, he specifically likes to take on the persona of an adventurous, extroverted action hero, charming and gentlemanly and generally a dumb jock. it's the dumb part that's important here: jake pretends to be a dumbass himbo so that when he fucks up and hurts people when he manipulates them into doing what he wants, he doesn't have to shoulder as much guilt/blame. he plays up being stupid specifically to avoid the agony of people being mad at him, caring way too much about other people's opinions (A6A2:4587). it's why the trickster arc is so painful for him, and also why he is so non-confrontational.

john is also pretty socially anxious, though i think it's a lot more subtle for him since john's upbeat personality isn't entirely a facade in the way that it is for jake. the most obvious evidence for this is again the fact that he only talks to, like, three people online and his dad. despite being 13, none of these kids ever mention jack shit about school or the other members of humanity about to be murdered by meteors from their own game, and i think that's more than just a necessity of the story considering how much homestuck seems to value realism (at least in terms of characters' emotional reactions & arc). john's dad (as pipefan413) clearly knows the neighbors since in the serious business chatting app you can see fedorafreak & the others also talking about escaping meteors, but the existence of any other kids in the neighborhood is unknown, though i would think likely considering john's early arc is set up to be as normal as possible to set up for the crazy bullshit later. (there's also the whole thing about john's peanut allergy + fear of the "peanut gallery" so)

since homestuck tells almost its entire story through the chatlogs of awkward teenagers, this is one key place where i think john's personality informs homestuck: namely, in its focus on isolation, loneliness, and growing up. SPEAKING OF,

3. childhood ignorance

jake isn't dumb, john isn't dumb, but why do so many people think that they are? for jake it's pretty clearly cause he wants it that way, but for john... i think it's cause he kind of. is? but also, he isn't. let me explain:

john often comes across to me as the most 13 year old 13 year old in the cast of homestuck. he's a sweet kid and intelligent enough for his age, but when that age is 13, there's not necessarily a lot there. john has also had the closest (closest. there's still a lot of weird shit there) thing to a Normal™ childhood out of the entire cast of homestuck (and yes that includes jane, she was the heiress to a corporate empire avoiding assassination attempts at 16, please don't call that shit normal), meaning that, in my opinion, a lot of his (lack of) maturity can be attributed to growing up pretty sheltered. where dave and rose had to contend with overt childhood abuse through toxic/neglectful parents, and even jade had to deal with a dog-parent & dead grandpa, john got a dad that actually cared about him.

this is not a bad thing in and of itself, but john being sheltered does mean that by the time they are actually entering the game and interacting with all these other worlds & alien peoples, he is imbued with a certain distinct ignorance of the greater world that becomes a very significant weakness in a story fucking dripping with semi-omniscient narrators that live to make you suffer. and, from the way he scribbles on the walls (A3:1049), this is something john is both aware of and frustrated with, calling himself a FOOL, tying to the tarot card (#1, his role as protagonist), the harlequin thing (clowns & their incredible pull on the meta of homestuck), & his anxieties (feeling ignorant & out of your depth stepping out of childhood into a world much broader and more complex and cruel than you're prepared for)

4. not a homosexual

i think i'm gonna run out of space here, so i'm just gonna copy & paste some hussie commentary here & maybe reblog this w/ some analysis of john & karkat's dynamic/parallels as "leaders" later (and maybe some june thoughts too):

5. successfully saved the world: the hero is depressed

okay, so earlier in part 1 i ended with a question:

but to a kid for whom the entire world feels so far away and empty, how much does that really matter?

i mostly left the answer to this implied earlier since it made more sense for the transition, but i think homestuck proper does give us an answer to this: it does matter! it just isn't until the end of the story, after they've won the game and finished the session, that it really starts to set in the extent of what they've lost.

so this entire post was largely motivated by another post i read earlier, which questioned why john in the snapchat credits didn't just go to live with the crockers. i gave a long ass commentary in the notes on that post, but my conclusion was basically this: john is depressed (!!!) and depression makes you apathetic & lose all motivation to do anything.

i've focused a lot on john's early life and the beginning of the story in this post, which is maybe in part because i've been rereading from the beginning recently, but also because john kind of loses touch with everyone else in the story as soon as he enters the session.

i think this is often read as just being a product of john's classpect, heir of breath. john doesn't just inherit breath when he godtiers, he also becomes it in a very literal sense (can't fucking find the page where he transforms into wind but ugh, whatever), so he when he literally loses touch with the reality of the story after gaining his retcon powers, it follows with the thematic concept of him being breath. this isn't bad, but i think it also goes further, again connecting with that idea that john is basically the "main character" of homestuck, which is actually a very unfortunate title as it means john in particular gets very wrapped up sburb & the story as a whole in a very literal sense. again: retcon powers.

for all my frustrations with the execution of the retcon, i can't deny that it makes a shit ton of sense for john to get those kinds of powers, since his character and position as the starting kid has always been so closely entwined with the story of homestuck as a whole (see: the entire rest of this post). it also ties back to that idea of john being particularly vulnerable as a naive kid in a world of maliciously omniscient characters (e.g. doc scratch, but also vriska/terezi & all of the trolls to some degree), puppetted around by the story and slowly losing all connections with "reality" and the rest of the cast (his friends!!)

you know all those scenes where john starts interacting w/ the shittily-drawn caliborn versions of all his friends? (or this page: (A6I5:6207)) that has always come across as kind of sad to me, because it feels representative of john's (lack of) connections to his friends by that point in the story. he gets so swept up in Plot Bullshit that he basically loses most of the contact he has w/ the people that were his closest friends for years (ik people hate inversion theory but he & karkat really are complementary in some ways), and that loss of connection just exacerbates his previous anxieties about being ignorant. the conversation between him, dave, & karkat on the meteor is really revealing of this (A6A6I5:7487). where dave & karkat & everyone else got three years to sort through their shit together, john was getting dragged off to make the story make sense again, technically completely losing everyone he had known and grown up with. it's not just that dad crocker is different: everyone is different.

(this also has the kind of even more depressing alternate implication that john doesn't even really get the chance to feel that difference outside of jade, since he wasn't able to connect with "his" original dave, rose, etc. in the pre-retcon timeline regardless. great!)

john's depression has always been one of my favorite parts of his character arc tbh, which ig is a weird thing to say, but it just makes so much sense to me as the next step in his story, if not the true conclusion. it's only after winning the game that john really starts to catch up with everyone else in terms of maturity and understanding, and by that point, when everyone already feels so far ahead, how could he possibly catch up? (the answer is that he can, just not alone, but it is that exact feeling of not being able to that makes him isolate in the first place. depression is a fucking shithole)

so much of homestuck is about loneliness, but in turn so much of homestuck is also about social connections, about the people around you that you love and care about and change your life. where karkat is able to heal the connections of the people around him by helping them through their interpersonal relationship bullshit, john gets caught in the wind of the plot and loses his connections, thus losing his ability to really mature as a person at the same rate as everyone else (not to mention how he might've felt behind in the first place). but still, even w/ john's arc ending on a heavy, perhaps unsatisfying note at the end of homestuck proper, i like to think there's still a lot of hope for him: after all, his dearest friends and family are all right there. he just needs to get off his ass and start talking to them.

(sidenote: while editing this part of the post, i suddenly realized just how sad it is that karkat and john talk so goddamn little in all of the post-canon shit. which fucking sucks actually because karkat would be the perfect person to yell at someone until they finally get off their ass and start trying to be a person again, exactly what john needs after the game imho. pumpkin route you are forming in my mind)

uhh anyways, i don't know how good of a job i did at tying this post back to my original goal, but if you read this far, thank you. i have been typing nonstop for like four straight hours (ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᶦʳᵗᵉᵉⁿ ᵐᶦⁿᵘᵗᵉˢˀ) and i think my right ring finger is about to fall off.

bonus: 6. john is hussie???

OKAY, actual finale, this is quick and dumb but this idea comes pretty much entirely from a couple random lines of hussie commentary from a john & dave conversation on (A2:324):

John makes some pretty sassy quips here. I like the "15th day in a row" line, which makes sense since I was the one who actually said it in a real conversation about this.

most people make the connection between hussie & dave (& dirk, i suppose) since dave's sense of humor is basically just unfiltered hussie, but this comment makes me wonder what was put into john too (though i suppose you could consider all fictional characters imbued with some aspect of their author). i'm not super into psychoanalyzing hussie as a person through homestuck itself, but if you're into that, here ya go.

#the one thing this post is missing is the significance of john's movie taste #but unfortunately i think i'm too young and i grew up on basically none of that shit so :skull: #someone else is gonna have to make up for that #hs #astronaut rambles #super long post #wrote this while procrastinating an actual essay are you proud of me #i like john if you couldn't tell i vibe with june a lot #probably cause i kinda physically look like her + peanut allergy lol #and her childhood is vaguely similar..... idk i just get the arc kinda #shoutout to the homestuck wiki btw #saved my ass #i wrote this all in one sitting and now i kinda hate myself for it #fingers hurt #homestuck #john egbert #The John Post #update: edited!

[lostmyremembrall]

Hiii!!! First i wanted to say I love your writing and you are literally amazing. Also congrats on 1K you deserve it!! 💖

I was wondering if I could maybe request 🐍??

My names Sierra. I'm like extremely quiet when you first meet me but once I've warmed up to you I am like a HuGe crackhead. I'm very energetic but also super loyal. Idk if this is important but my love language is touch, and I am a Gryffindor. Sorry if this is long.

Love youuuuu

🐍 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐂 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐨𝐦

𝓢𝓲𝓮𝓻𝓻𝓪

𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝐽𝑜𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 1𝐾 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡!

Thank you so much for your kind words and the request!!

So sorry that this ended up being so long. It got so romantic that I couldn't stop writing. You can tell how much fun I had writing this haha. Here it is!

You first felt it on your very first train to Hogwarts.

With anticipation and anxiety you were looking out through the window at the passing trees.

A boy sat next to you, reading quietly, his large book laid open on his lap.

Your hands grazed against his and you immediately felt an electrical zap, like this energy that connected you to him.

He seemed to notice it as well. And that's how you got to know Tom Riddle.

-----

For years you went on multiple adventures with Tom: Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, and of course, nighttime exploring through Hogwarts castle.

Many times you've been caught by the caretaker or other professors after curfew, you never betrayed Tom. And Tom didn't either.

You two are fiercely loyal to each other. And Tom trusts you with his life, as you do.

Making you two an inseparable, invincible duo

Tom loves spending time with you, especially since you're so funny.

He always comments that you're a completely different person once people get to know you.

-----

It happened on one of your nightly excursions at the edge of the forest. You two were laughing, running and chasing each other through the forest.

The night held a magical atmosphere. Lacewings fluttered through the air as glowing warm lights, and leaping toadstools jumped out of your way.

Tom suggested they climb the high rock to get a view of the castle.

He leapt up the stone with ease thanks to his advantageous height.

He immediately turned back and offered you his hand to climb after him.

You caught his hand, and there was that electric pulse.

Tom must have felt it as well, considering how his eyes widened.

He pulled you up nonetheless.

His hand continued to hold you, Tom staring at it for a while.

Thinking about how your hand fit perfectly and comfortably in his.

Overwhelmed by the first few memories of meeting you in the distant past.

You two have grown so much, as evident in the size of your hands.

Yet, it felt like nothing had changed.

You wondered about the electric pulse, almost electromagnetic energy that ties your hand to his.

Like a sense of destiny.

That it was no coincidence that you sat next to him on that first day.

At this point, neither of you cared about the fantastic view of the castle, illuminated by thousands of candles.

Slowly, Tom stirred, releasing your hand and moving his hand up your arm.

He briefly licked his lower lip, like he was braving and questioning himself constantly. Like he was testing out the waters.

Eventually, his hand found its way up your arm. And with a step forward, Tom wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his other hand joining in to embrace you.

You're stunned to move.

But you bury his face into his shoulder. His warmth. Tom's scent. His scratchy sweater.

It feels so familiar and so right.

Tom must have been feeling the same way, as he tightens his embrace.

Like he's finally found what he's been missing for years, and it was always next to him. And once he's found it, he can't let go of you.

It feels like the lacewings are circling you two, celebrating what was always meant to be.

"Sierra," he murmurs, his hot breath blowing down on your ear.

Still stunned, you can't find a word to respond with. For once, you can't think of anything funny to say.

"What, kneazel got your tongue, Sierra?"

He says that, but his voice is strained and nervous, although he tries his best to hide it.

You can tell. He's afraid.

Afraid that you are not feeling this connection that he's feeling.

In the end, you move your trembling hands and rest them on his back.

You can feel Tom's shoulders relax with a barely audible sigh of relief.

For the longest time, you two stood in each other's arms like that, relishing the moment that you two have been waiting for. Knowing that, at last, your hands were right where they were supposed to be.

#1k celebration #1k event #1k milestone #1k followers #1K follower event #harry potter #1k follower celebration #tom riddle #tom riddle jr #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle fanfiction #tmr #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x you #tom riddle headcanon #tom riddle headcanons #tom riddle fic #tom riddle x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #tom riddle au #tom riddle fluff

[iiep-wop]

Right first chapter for a hypothetical Jedtavius fanfic I might write, THIS CHAPTER IS VERY MUCH NOT EDITED YET I literally just finished writing it 😭 The premise is that Jed is in a shit ton of trouble and finds out that there is a way for it all to go away. It all requires the tablet.

Human AU where Octavius is Museum Curator and Jed is just some random guy in a heap of trouble.

Tw: slight mention of thought about su1cide

Anyway here it is, I really hope this makes sense 💀

(holy hell I only just found the read more bar thing, sorry it was talking up all of y'all's feed before 😭)

“OhShitOhShitOhShit”

This is all that went through Jedediah’s mind as he raced through crowded streets, the air thick with the stench of car fumes and suffocating summer heat. Looking round wildly, he ducked swiftly into an alley, hiding himself behind a dumpster. He only hoped he’d been quick enough to not be seen. Three large figures stormed past as he held his breath, waiting silently as the shouts of his pursuers melted away into the regular noise of the city. He hesitantly stood up, casting a glance around the hiding place, eyes quickly adjusting to the gloom of the dingy path.

You could hardly call it an alleyway; it was long, and you could probably fit a small truck in it if you tried. A large garage door sat on the opposite side from the dumpster, red paint cracked and peeling enough to show the rusted metal beneath it. Beside it, a small sign read: “Loading Bay entrance, please do not obstr-” in bold letters. The last few letters had been covered by a tattered sticker; colours faded and stained by time.

Now he had calmed down, Jed was curious. He’d not been paying attention to where he was going before, only running to where they weren’t. Cautiously peering round the corner, he was met with the entrance to the Natural History Museum. Or the stairs up to it at least.

God why was that building’s entrance so high up.

Stepping back into the ally, he raked his hand anxiously through his sandy hair as he thought of a plan. They weren’t ever going to stop looking for him, that was for sure. He just needed somewhere to hide for the day until he was sure they’d gone.

Then it hit him. There was no way that they’d think to look for him in the museum. Hell, there was no way he’d think to go in under any other circumstances.

Jedediah Smith was a man in debt.

It wasn’t his fault; he’d kept telling himself. He just happened to have gotten himself mixed up with the wrong people on the wrong day. And now he was certain they were going to kill him if they found him.

It also probably didn’t help that he thought he could fight his way out of paying the man in charge back.

At this point, he might as well disappear. No one would notice, it's not like he had anyone left to go to anymore. If it were possible, it’d be the only way he’d be able to save his own ass from the shit he’d gotten himself into.

Putting on his hoodie, Jed walked hastily into the museum, quickly checking to see if anyone was around. Seeing how empty it was, he relaxed, sauntering up to the reception with a relieved grin on his face.

A small woman sat at the desk, typing quickly into the computer, dark hair obscuring her face.

Jed slammed his hand dramatically onto the counter. “Mornin’ sugar”

The receptionist looked up, glaring at him through her hair.

“One ticket please.”, he continued, placing a handful of various pieces of change onto the desk.

She lifted an eyebrow, sighing as she counted the coins into the machine.

“Thank you for supporting-”

Jed had wandered off before she could say anything else.

Sidling around the museum, Jed mused at how empty the whole building was. He could understand why, the place was fuckin’ boring. Nothing really interested him, although it wasn’t like he was paying attention to any of the exhibits anyway.

Absentmindedly, he strode into a dimly lit room, large, display cases built into the walls. He stopped a moment, intrigued, peering down at the tiny scene in front of him. A small western town bustling with tiny, still, life. On the platform of the train station, a small figure stood, commanding a crowd of workers watching him from the opposite side of the tracks. A plastic hat sat jauntily on top of his head, obscuring his face from view, as he pointed at the rails.

“He seems to know what he’s doing,” Jed thought to himself amusedly “God I wish I was that put together.”

Suddenly, he heard a faint chuckle from the bench in the middle of the room.

“Enjoying the miniatures?”

Jedediah whipped his head around to see a man, not much older looking than him, sat calmly in the centre of the room. Notebook placed on the seat beside him.

God how long had he been there?

Jed turned around properly, quickly standing up straight and scowling.

“So what If I’m interested in ‘em?”

The man pushed his glasses up his nose in amusement, “I didn’t want to interrupt, but you did look like you were going to fall in.”

His voice was clear, resonant sounding and Jesus Christ, he was British.

“Yeah, thanks for tellin’ me.”

Turning back around, Jed rolled his eyes, silently mimicking what the man had said.

“The miniatures are new, you know. We got them in today.”

Why won’t he shut up? He just wanted to come in here to get away from the guys chasing him, not to be pestered by some curly haired, European prick.

Jed looked back at the man and smiled sarcastically. Or at least tried to. He’d never been great at getting the expression right.

“Look, I know you’re tryin’ to be friendly and all, but I’m kinda busy.”

He began to stare intently at the diorama again, he didn’t know why. He supposed that if he was gonna say he was busy he might as well look it.

Even if it was a bullshit attempt.

The man sighed and picked up his notebook, “Evidently.”

“What?”

“Well evidently you’re busy. Staring at the same miniature for ten minutes, god it must be such hard work.”

Now Jed was actually getting annoyed. The man had begun to scrawl into his notebook, hunched over slightly as he wrote. His slightly greying hair was neatly combed back, a few flyaway curls softly resting on his forehead. Almost cherub-like, in a way. If a cherub was some tall, British nuisance.

“Now who even are you? D’ you just come here to watch people wander round?”

“No?” the man said questioningly, looking up from the notepad “I work here.”

He gestured at the plastic name badge pinned wonkily to his jumper. Jed could barely make out what it said in the dim light, but it appeared to read “G. Octavius, Museum Curator”

“And? Still doesn’t make it any less weird.”

“For your information, I was in here first. I was sketching the diorama before you came and put your ass in the way.”

“Alright. I’ll leave if you tell me one other even vaguely interesting thing in this here building.” Jed stated defiantly, “Then I’ll get my ass out of the way of your drawing ‘o curator’.”

Octavius lifted an eyebrow, as if to say “you fucking idiot”, before lazily pointing his pencil down the hallway.

“Just down there, we’ve got the tablet of Ahkmenra. I’ve heard it’s got some pretty mystical properties.”

Jedediah frowned, raking his hand through his hair. The hell did he mean “I’ve heard”? If he was curator surely he’d know. He practically owned the fuckin’ thing anyway.

“Fine, I’ll go.” He drawled, rounding the corner “You can get your pretty little drawing done in peace princess.”

Octavius’ lip quirked into a charmed smile as Jed peered accusingly back round the corner. How long would he have to spend hiding in this godforsaken museum with this man before he could be sure it was safe outside.

And now, he’d been kicked out of the most interesting room in the building, to go and see some- tablet.

The room holding the tablet had a strange air about it, it was long, the path down the middle guarded by four dark jackal statues. Jed stuffed his hands into his pockets as he walked, feeling a strong sense of unnerve as he approached the coffin and tablet at the far end.

Small spotlights shone on the shining tablet, illuminating the intricate carvings etched into the gold. As much as Jed hated to admit it, Octavius was right, it was pretty fuckin’ interesting.

Nine individual squares were indented into the metal, seemingly on a rotating system, each one bearing a symbol Jed didn’t understand. There was something alluring about it, calling him to reach out and just touch it. Even for a second.

He froze, hand mere inches away from the smooth gold. Even if he did hate this place, he wasn’t just going to touch some ancient artefact. Who knows what kind of security they’d have on it.

His eyes were then drawn to the plaque besides it. He thought as he read. Something weird was happening to him, he’d never enjoyed places like this. They bored him. So why was he so interested all of a sudden.

The words “make various objects or people disappear” hit him flat in the face as he read absentmindedly.

He’d been hoping to disappear since he got caught up in all of this debt business. Wouldn’t it all just be better if he didn’t exist anymore? Jedediah had been thinking of various ways to do it, but none of it was really... disappearing. Was it? Besides, he still had so much to live for. Or that’s what he’d been repeating to himself.

He was in so much debt it would make a banker cry, had a sub- par job which he was on the cusp of losing and lived in a shitty flat with no more family to crawl back home to. It all sounded like not alot to live for really. The idea of disappearing that this plaque had proposed to him made everything sound so simple.

Blinking a few times, he snapped out of the trance he had sent himself into. Was he really going to believe some plaque in a boring old museum that told him he could disappear?

But the idea had settled uncomfortably in his mind now. He was right there, he could take the tablet and make himself disappear with it. It would make everything so easy wouldn’t it?

With that, he made his plan.

He would find somewhere to hide once the museum closed, and then, before anyone noticed anything suspicious, he’d make it all go away. Press the buttons on the tablet or some shit, and then he’d vanish.

If he had been thinking straight, he would have realised the flaws in this plan. But the idea had set itself into his mind. The tablet was calling out desperately to him and the only way he could stop it was by doing what it wanted him to do.

Disappearing. Simple enough.

Jedediah kept an eye out for good spots to hide in throughout the next few hours, all the while trying to avoid Octavius and his damned smile.

The night guard whistled cheerily as he did his pre - lock up round, barely taking the time to check for people as he dragged a long grey duffle bag behind him. Jed watched silently from a concealed corner under a flight of stairs, hoping desperately not to be found.

The call of the tablet had begun to wear off, doubt beginning to spread through his mind again. Why the hell was he following the imaginary orders of some tablet? He was going mad, he was sure of it. However, it was too late for any second guessing. It was now or never.

The warm glow of sunset seeped through the narrow windows in the tablet room as Jedediah entered, bathing the jackals in orange light. He slowly approached the tablet, gingerly reaching out for it as the sunset deepened. Gently, he pulled it off the wall, sinking down onto the floor with his back pressed against the glass of the sarcophagus. Jed sat silently for a moment.

How the hell was he supposed to do this? Why the hell did he do this?

Quiet footsteps began to echo through the halls again, startling him. He needed to figure out how this worked now.

As the footsteps neared, the tablet began to glow dimly in the now darkened room. Jed’s eyes widened in fear. He was going to be found out. Why the hell was this blasted thing glowing, and why now of all times!

Step, step, step.

The footsteps sounded like they were outside the door of the room. They were.

The light emanating from the tablet was now more of a shine than a faint glow, illuminating his face as he looked up guiltily at the man in the doorway.

“What the FUCK are you doing?”

It was Octavius, his eyes were wild and furious, glasses clenched in one hand, a long tan coat in the other.

Dropping the coat, he ran over, grabbing the other end of the tablet from Jedediah.

“You don’t understand! It was callin’ for me!”

“I know I said it was interesting but this is too far sir!” Octavius grit his teeth, features sharp and angry in the bright glow of the tablet.

Jedediah tried to move his hands further up the tablet in order to snatch it back, fingers scrabbling on the edges of the individual squares in order to gain traction.

The tablet glowed brighter as his hand reached the central square, every segment shining like a floodlight into their eyes, blinding them.

Octavius threw himself backwards in shock from the light, covering his eyes as the tablet clattered to the floor.

The world went far too bright for a moment, every colour fading into pure, blinding, nothingness.

And then it all went black.

#i know Octavius isn't British but Steve Coogan is and so I've made the character Italian but raised in England #also I'm British not American so theres probably some shit I've gotten wrong like measurements or something #i would have made it set in England but yknow the museum's American 💀 #night at the museum #natm octavius #natm jedediah #natm jedtavius #jedtavius fanfic #natm fandom #pls give me feedback 😭

[dear-departed]

sorry for the two asks in a row, read your post on breakdowns with the brothers, wondered if you could do breakdowns with the side characters? tysm, love your writing!! <3333

Hello, of course! I had fun writing this, sorry it came so late, I had trouble thinking of something for Solomon

Also I hope you don't mind, but I wasn't comfy with including Luke, please, enjoy :)

Reader is gender neutral

Warnings: angst, brief thoughts of s/h, lots of crying, swearing, MC pulls their hair

Word count: 5.8k

Diavolo ♥

• Diavolo’s a tricky case, there are some days when he has a few quiet moments to himself that he just lets it all out, and sometimes he’ll just ignore his negative emotions until it gets too bad. He’s seen Lucifer have his emotional drunk moments, but given that they’re usually drunk together, he doesn’t know how to handle other people.

• It was just a regular “meeting” or really just hanging out at the Demon Lord’s castle. Over the past few weeks, things were just building up, but today felt especially bad. You were in one of the castle’s many rooms with Barbatos, Lucifer, and Diavolo.

• “So, how are those brothers treating you?” Diavolo smiled, sipping on a cup of piping hot tea in front of him, admittedly with a metric fuck-ton of sugar.

• “Same as always...” Lucifer rubbed his temple, “but MC’s always a big help with them.”

• “I’m glad.”

• Slowly, their words started to make less and less sense as you absentmindedly stared at the floor, their conversation turning into a mess of static in your mind.

• The room was cool to the point of getting goosebumps, yet small beads of sweat gathered near your hairline.

• “Isn’t that right, MC?” You were snapped out of your thoughts by Lucifer saying your name. You directed your gaze back up to the three men, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that?”

• “I asked if I was right.” He looked into your eyes, his gaze making you squirm in your seat. On normal days, this would’ve been fine, but everything felt too uncomfortable and awful and just... ew.

• “I-I’m sorry, I meant the thing before that.” The skin on your cheeks felt like they were on fire, your voice cracking slightly as your mouth became devoid of any moisture.

• “Oh, yes. I said you were working hard on your studies.”

• “Oh-” you cleared your throat, hastily taking a sip of your tea in hopes to wet your tongue enough to comfortably speak, and maybe to wash down the lump in your throat. “Yes, I have been working hard.”

• You stood up “If you don’t mind, could you give me directions to the restroom?”

• “Would you like Barbatos to lead you?” Lord Diavolo tilted his head, his crimson hair shining beneath the slightly yellowed lighting of the large room.

• “No, thank you.”

• “Understood.” Barbatos pointed out the door. “Out that door, to the right, 4th door on the left.” He instructed.

• “Thank you.” You were quick to skitter off, mumbling the directions he gave to you over and over until you found the bathroom.

• You quickly shut the door, taking a double take over the bathroom that never ceased to surprise you. The mirror alone was probably worth more than a collage tuition, with an intricately carved mahogany frame, a few of the details popping out because of the gold leaf speckling different areas.

• You slid down against the wall, taking a few rough gulps of air as you tried to steady yourself. The clothes on your back felt like they stuck to your body too much, you were far too aware of your tongue, how it didn’t feel like it was resting in the right place.

• The tears began to pour, choked sobs coming from your cinched throat as you hung your head. You let out a brief cough as you choked on your tears, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

• You failed to notice the footsteps coming from down the hall over your own whimpers and squeaky breaths.

• Until the doorknob turned.

• You staggered for the door, your knees smacking against the cold tile as your fingertips brushed against the lock on the door. You were too slow, Lord Diavolo opened the door, humming a soft tune.

• “Oh, my goodness! MC I’m so sorry I forgot you were in h...” He looked down at you, at how disheveled you looked, little whisps of hair sticking to the tears coating your face, your chest heaving with uneven breaths.

• “What happened?! Are you okay?!” he dropped to his knees beside you, his brows knitting together with concern. “Do you want me to get Barbatos? I’ll get Barbatos-”

• “Wait!” You croaked out, reaching for his arm, “please... I’m not- I don’t- I’m... I don’t want anyone else to see me like this, please, Lord Diavolo...”

• He was hesitant to touch you at first. “What do you want me to do?” His hand hovered over yours for a moment before landing on the back of your hair that was firmly planted on his arm.

• “I don’t know.” You sobbed, sucking in a breath. “I don’t know anything; I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

• He moved closer to your trembling form, enveloping you in a hug, which might’ve pressed you up against his man tiddies, but it’s not like that hurt anything.

• “Is it the Devildom? Would you like to go home?” He asked, his heart twinging with a distant sadness.

• “N-no... I just get like this sometimes. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You said, your voice nothing but a rough whisper against his clothes.

• “Come, I’ll tell Barbatos and Lucifer not to disturb us.” He scooped one of his arms on the backs of your knees, using his other to coax one of your arms over his shoulder, cool to the touch against your feverish skin.

• You tried to compose yourself as he lifted you off the ground with ease, looking down at you, deep in thought. “Would you like to sit out in the garden with me? Perhaps to get some fresh air? Or you may rest on my bed, if you prefer to bundle up and take a nap or something of the sort.

• The two of you both decide to go to the garden together. He set you down on a beautifully crafted granite bench, drawing his D.D.D from his pocket. “As I said, I will inform all of the staff, along with Lucifer and Barbatos, to leave us be. Does that sound alright with you?”

• You shook out your sweaty hands, trying to cool your face in the same stroke. The outside air was certainly cooler than inside, with the moon and stars casting a gentle silverish-blue light upon Diavolo’s bright red hair. “Yes.. Thank you. And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to see me like that and it’s nothing wrong with the Devildom, I love it here; it’s just that sometimes everything just feels like too much and some people say I overreact because it seems like whenever I have a breakdown it’s over the small stuff. B-but it’s not because of small stuff, it’s just the small stuff keeps building up until a little thing sends me into a frenzy and-” Your lungs begged for air as you spoke, until you had no more to give.

• Diavolo waited for a few seconds, waiting for anything else you had to say. “I understand. Well, I can’t say I understand you completely, people are very different from one another, but I can say I see where you’re coming from. And if you were to ask me, MC.” He took your shaking hands in one of his, “I, personally, don’t think you overreact at all. You’ve been so calm and accommodating to everything here in the Devildom, a feat which not many humans can achieve. I don’t think you fully understand how big of a deal that is.”

• He plucked a rose from a nearby bush, the underside of the blooming petals crafted from shadow, and the center of the flower was filled with bright neon colors that glowed in the eternal night of the devildom.

• “And because of that, MC, I’m proud of what you’ve become.” He stripped the thorns from the rose with the nail on his thumb, gently tucking the stem behind your ear.

Barbatos ♥

• This bitch is a robot.

• Barbatos does not have breakdowns.

• And if he did? You wouldn’t be able to tell.

• He doesn’t know how to take a goddamn break. If he feels stressed, he gets restless, and if he gets restless, he works.

• And if there’s nothing to do, because he again, never takes a break and already has everything done? He bakes.

• He is predictable in a sense that he’s good at everything, and he’s so consistant that you could mistake him for a machine

• He is terrifying, he is the most subtle and beautiful chaos you’ve ever seen.

• He is Barbatos.

• And that’s how you came to this moment.

• Another sleepover that Lord Diavolo had invited you, and all of the brothers to.

• You love the brothers, you really do. They’re good company, and they’re entertaining. But holy fuck are they clingy, and loud, and do they always have to be at war with one another?

• Belphie was laying his head on your thighs, Asmo practically draping himself over the lower half of your legs like some sort of cat. Satan was laying his head on your stomach, his legs kicked up over each other as he read a book.

• How he could read, much less see, with how dark the room was? You had no idea. Demon fuckery, probably.

• Leviathan didn’t touch you with any of his regular limbs, rather, he was in his demon form, with the tip of his tail wrapped around your ankle as he laid a little bit away from you, playing a video game on his phone.

• Beel, thankfully, was just holding your hair while he laid on the floor, his large hand resting heavily against yours.

• And then... and then there was Mammon. He was clinging to your arm; you were sure he’d wrap his legs around your waist and stick there the entire night if Satan wasn’t in the way.

• There was no Lucifer to save you, either, he was in another room, separated from both you and the brothers, which was totally unfair.

• And Diavolo, obviously, was in his own room.

• You began to wriggle in their grasp, “hey, I need to go to the bathroom, I’ll be back, if I’m not back soon then just go to bed without me.”

• Mammon let out a quiet whine, rubbing his face against your shoulder, obviously half asleep.

• Satan sat up, swift to smack him on the back of the head with his book. “Get up.”

• Mammon quickly unstuck himself from you, rubbing the back of his head, rolling over and curling up once more.

• Everyone else evacuated off you, leaving you to stand up and quickly scramble off. The urge to get away was strong, yet the feelings weren’t there, at least not yet. Your head felt empty; devoid of all coherent thought, as silent as the cold halls of the castle, all of the lights off.

• Numb

• You wandered until you stepped into what must’ve been the main kitchen. It had to be some sort of commercial kitchen, not the type you would see in a house, but rather a work place. The tile was cool beneath your feet, your eyes slowly adjusting to the unforgiving dark.

• Everything was stainless steel aside from the dishes you could see, all different shades of red, with edges of night and gold.

• Were this the house of lamentation, you might have sat on the counter, but given that you were a guest, you opted on seating yourself on the floor.

• You stared at the grout beneath the tiles, the edges of your vision mushing together the longer your gaze stayed still, the edges of cupboards swirling with the air around you.

• It felt like hours before your eyes begin to sting from being open so long, making your eyes water. Tears begin to fall down your cheeks, slipping onto your shirt and dampening the fabric, all while you couldn’t be bothered to care, or rather, you wanted to ignore it. Pretend you were just tired, or you weren’t really sad.

• Were you sad, though? It was difficult to pinpoint exactly how you felt. Sad, angry, anxious? Just upset.

• Without taking your eyes off that spot, you slowly hugged your knees to your chest, your face contorting; lips quivering, and nose scrunching up slightly.

• Before you knew it, you were nothing but a puddle of quiet sobs, shaking like a leaf and sniffling. Your tears dripped down onto the corners of your mouth, covering your lips with salt.

• “I had a feeling somebody was in here.” You heard from behind you.

• Your throat grew tight, your heart pounding in your chest.

• Barbatos.

• Half of you wanted to turn around, but the other half wanted to pretend that it was just your mind playing tricks on you, that you didn’t actually hear somebody, but deep down, you knew you’d been caught.

• Slowly, you turned, aggressively swiping at your face to get rid of the tears. There he was, towering over you, inspecting a white tea cup, decorated with cold leaf. He wiped away a smudge with a towel in hand. He turned his gaze down to you, setting the tea cup aside. “What has upset you, MC?”

• You were hesitant to answer him, after all, he was the least emotional person here, it felt weird to mention this to him.

• “I just... I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong.” You hiccupped, avoiding his sharp gaze. You made sure to keep his short and sweet, not wanting to hold up any of his time.

• Was he... still in his work clothes?

• Does he even own pajamas?

• “Ah, I understand. You feel as though you’re generally just upset, though you feel like you don’t deserve to feel upset because nothing necessarily happened that’s been out of the ordinary? Is that the case?”

• You opened your mouth to explain further, but... “yes, that’s... spot on, actually.”

• “Come, take my hand.” He held out one of his gloved hands, waiting for you to grab onto it.

• After a moment of consideration, you did so, allowing the demonic butler to pull you up off the floor, gently steadying you.

• With a snap of his fingers, a chair appeared, shrouded in a soft green glow as it warped into the room. He gestured to the seat of the chair, nodding his head formally. “Please, sit. I will prepare something to calm your nerves. In the meantime, please, MC, tell me how you are feeling.”

• In your gut, you knew he was aware exactly how you felt, he could probably just tell. That was already proven by how he pretty much read your thoughts aloud, but still, it feels different when you actually talk about it.

• “I mean... you kind of already said it. Nothing major has happened recently, but I just feel awful, I guess. I can’t tell if I’m annoyed or sad, but I feel like I’ve just been numb for a while and then all of a sudden, I just needed to... get away from everyone.”

• “Would you describe it as drowning?” Barbatos approached the stove, lighting the pilot light beneath one of the burners with a long match. He filled a kettle with water and placed it on the burner, then reached into a cupboard, pulling out a glass jar, filled with tea leaves, and a label you couldn’t quite make out through your watery eyes, and the fact that the kitchen was still dark, the only light available being the stove.

• “I would think so. Like when you’re holding your breath and you’re fine at first, and then you start to squirm, and the more you squirm, the more you need air.”

• He scooped a little bit of the tea into a strainer, clasping it shut and setting it inside the porcelain cup. “Is it also the case that you feel alright until you think about it?”

• “Yeah, kind of like when you feel bad, but you aren’t quiet crying, and then someone asks if you’re alright, and you realize that you’re not really alright. And really, you’re the furthest thing from feeling alright.” Slowly, your crying began to cease as you watched his dexterous hands, the pearly white of his gloves standing out against his dark outfit.

• He swiped his slender index finger across one of the countertops, rubbing it against his thumb with a thoughtful hum. He ducked down to beneath the sink, withdrawing a rag and some sort of cleaner. “Do you sometimes feel like those brothers treat you as something that comforts them, rather than someone who also needs comfort?” He asked as he sprayed the counter, wiping it down thoroughly with the rag. Part of you would bet that the counter was already clean.

• “Y... yes. That would be accurate. It’s like they argue over keeping me near them, instead of spending time with me, if that makes sense.” The more he pointed out ways you didn’t even know you felt, the more you felt like you understood how you felt.

• He put the rag and the cleaner back beneath the sink as the kettle began to whistle softly, billowing steam out from its neck. He checked his watch, eyeing it carefully for about 20 seconds before he finally poured the water in. Somehow, he managed to produce the perfect amount of water from the kettle.

• After about 7 minutes, he pulled the strainer out of the water, shaking it a little over the cup before discarding the soggy leaves inside.

• “Here, this should make you feel a little better.” He presented the cup in front of you.

• Were his eyes glowing?...

Simeon ♥

• Simeon definitely has his moments, but unlike a lot of the Obey Me boys, he has decent ways of coping, so it’s not often that he has a breakdown.

• Also, being the mom friend, he naturally has this 6th sense when people aren’t feeling their best, it’s programmed into his system.

• You had planned a study session at Purgatory Hall with him, given that he knows just about everything there is about well... everything, he’s smart, but never really brings it up.

• The walk from the House of Lamentation to Purgatory Hall wasn’t hard, only a few minutes, but it felt like the quaint little path led on, sprawling out further the longer you walked. You could feel the stones beneath your aching feet just a little more than normal, and the air nipped at your ankles; sinking its icy claws into your exposed skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

• After a short walk that dragged on for what felt like forever, you finally reached the door of Purgatory Hall, giving it a few weak knocks, adjusting the book bag that had begun to dig into your shoulder.

• Simeon was quick to answer, greeting you with his smile, sweet as honey. “Hello, MC. I’m so glad you could make it, come in.” He stepped to the side, nodding his head as you stepped through the doorway.

• He immediately had his suspicions, but decided to keep quiet for now. Despite his doubts, there was still a chance that maybe you just had to shake it off, or perhaps the walk was boring.

• “I was actually just making lunch, Solomon and Luke are both out running errands, so it’s just us. You’re free to join me in the kitchen if you’d like, we can study there for a bit. I’ll take your bag, it looks heavy.” He shut the door behind you, turning his gaze back to you.

• “I don’t wanna burden you, Simeon, it’s fine. Thank you for agreeing to help me out.” You suppressed a lengthy yawn, your eyes watering as you did so.

• “You aren’t a burden at all, MC! Really, you’re helping me just as much as I am you, I have trouble with some of the subjects as well.” He carefully pulled the bag off your shoulder, not giving you anymore room to argue.

• “...Thank you.” You said, dragging your feet as you followed him into the kitchen. He set your bag up against one of the counters.

• “Go on, take a seat,” he gently patted his hand against the counter.

• “Are you sure?”

• “Of course, Luke isn’t tall enough to reach some stuff on the top shelf, so he climbs the counter a lot. Sometimes I wonder if those of us who are shorter just don’t feel fear, because I’ve seen him hop down from heights far taller than him. Or you can sit on the floor, if you want, I just want you to feel at home.”

• You didn’t have the energy to act like sitting down somewhere didn’t sound nice, so you abided with his recommendation, hopping up onto the counter and scooting back until your back hit the cool wall behind you.

• “And how about I give you a little quiz?” Simeon worked over the stove, cooking what seemed to be bacon.

• “Mm, that sounds okay.” You leaned your head back, resting it against the wall as you listened to him shuffling around the kitchen, his footfalls soft beneath the tile flooring.

• “Alright, first question, what is the word for ‘curse’ in Latin?”

• You rifled through the words in your head, in a slight daze as your thoughts clouded together. “Uhh, imprecatio, I think. Yeah, that’s what it is.”

• “Correct! Good job. Next question, hmm... after the Devildom was formed, what covered its surface?”

• Sleep tugged angrily at your mind, gnawing away at your coherency. “A forest...”

• “Great! There’s an ancient elixir that needs three ingredients, powdered unicorn hoof, bittergrass root...” the rest of his words faded into the background as you felt your consciousness slip from your grasp.

• “...MC?” Simeon turned to look at you, slumped against the wall with your mouth open a little bit, as if you were about to answer before you fell asleep. “I knew it” He laughed to himself, shaking his head a little as he covered his mouth. “Poor thing, they look so exhausted.”

• The angel turned the stove burner off, carefully coaxing your legs around his waist and hoisting you up onto his hips, taking great care in having a secure grip on you.

• He hummed a gentle tune as he walked out of the kitchen, taking you down the hall to his bedroom. His melodic voice reached your asleep mind, lulling you further into dreamland.

• He fumbled with the door a little, eventually opting on just standing on one foot and opening it with the other.

• And with that, he set you down on his bed, tucked you in, and went back to the door. He took one final glance at you, tilting his head and letting out a quiet “awe... get some rest, you deserve it.” Before he finally shut the light off and closed the door.

• I would say you awoke to it being dark outside but... it’s the devildom. It's always dark.

• Instead, you awoke to the sweet smell of chocolate permeating the house. You slapped your hand out to feel for your phone on the bedside table, only to find that it wasn’t there, being met with nothing, not even the lamp that you kept. Just the cool surface of a wooden bedside table.

• Come to think of it, this didn’t smell like your room, either. Rather, it smelled of flowers, vanilla, and new books.

• Where?... What?...

• It took you a moment to realize that you weren’t in your room, in fact, it took you a moment to remember exactly what’d happened before you’d fallen asleep.

• Simeon cracked the door a little bit, peeking inside. “Oh, you’re awake! Good morning!” he opened the door all the way, two mugs in hand.

• “What... what time is it?” You groaned, slowly sitting up, your back aching.

• “I guess I shouldn’t have said morning.” He went to the other side of the bed, turning on the lamp on that table. “It’s more like nine o’clock.”

• “Nine o’clock?... but... I barely even studied...” guilt began to well in your stomach, regret prominent in your mind. “I just... I just... fell asleep?” Your head spun as you talked, your voice cracking.

• Oh dear god... er, huh, Simeon’s dad, was your mouth dry, and did it taste awful.

• “Yes, you did fall asleep. And I’m glad you did.” Simeon sat on the edge of the bed, holding one of the mugs of bubbly hot coco out to you.

• The edges of your vision swirled and clouded with tears as your lip quivered, the confusion of just waking up and not being able to recall anything striking you like a fast ball. “But... Simeon, that means I wasted your time.” You began to sob, the pressure of being put on the same level as the demon brothers finally catching up to you, all in this one dazed moment in Simeon’s bedroom. “A-and how am I going to pass if I don’t study every day?! I only have so much time and if I’m wasting it by being lazy and falling asleep, I don’t deserve any of this, I don’t deserve to be praised or...” you sniffled, letting out a heavy cough.

• “Hey, MC.” He set the cups down on the bedside table, scooting closer to you. He placed a delicate hand on your lap. “It’s okay that you fell asleep. If you’re well rested, that means you can absorb information.” His thumb gently rubbed along your thigh in a comforting manner. “No grade is above your wellbeing. If it’s too much, I’m sure there are adjustments that can be made. Do you understand how big of a deal it is that you’ve learned this much?”

• You stared into his angelic turquoise eyes, flecked with gold. Somehow, staring into those eyes brought you a little peace. With one look at you, it felt like he understood everything you were feeling, and he had the words to match exactly that.

• “Solomon, Luke and I, the demons at RAD; we’ve all had thousands of years to study, hundreds of years to take in the same information that you’ve only had about a year and a half to learn, do you understand how positively impressive that is? Everybody struggles sometimes, MC, and everybody is fallible no matter what anybody says, you’re allowed to make mistakes. And it’s alright to not know something.”

• You began to tremble the more he spoke, his words striking all the right chords in your heart. “I just... I don’t know how to take all of this in, I still have all of my knowledge about the history of the human world, and now having to relearn world history, but for the Devildom... it just feels so weird, and I’m really, really, trying. But it... it... it...” You stammered a few more times, trying to regain your bearings. “It feels like everything's melting together and this feels like I can’t possibly learn it all in time.”

• “Come here, my lamb.” He opened his arms to you, an empathetic smile gracing his features.

• You crawled toward him, flinging your arms around him tightly as you cried into his shoulder.

• He was warm, and smelled exactly like the room you were in. Slowly, he began to pat and rub your back, speaking softly into your ear. “There you go, just let it all out, it’s okay to cry. I know times get tough, and it’s alright to admit that. You’ll be alright, it’ll all work out. I believe in you.”

• When Simeon felt your shaking and sobbing slowly die down, he leaned back, looking into your eyes. “Now, would you like some hot coco? Solomon and Luke are home.”

• “Yes...” You sniveled, wiping at your eyes and mouth “Please...”

• He let out a breathy laugh, rubbing the top of your head. “Alright, then.”

Solomon ♥

• Solomon hasn’t had a breakdown in a while. He’s, how do you say it? Desensitized to so much shit.

• But nevertheless, he’s human, he gets it a little more than his demonic and angelic peers.

• Currently, the two of you were in potions class, in the middle of a mini-test.

• The task was simple to the untrained eye, just mix two liquids, drink it, and allow the instructor to see how your body and voice changed.

• He had already gone, he was assigned to turn into an older woman with brown hair, which he’d done with ease, and was now already back in his typical form.

• The instructor approached you, watching as your hands frantically scrambled around your lab station, your heart pounding, your mind succumbing to your anxiety.

• Solomon leaned on his knuckles, idly tracing the intricate swirly grain of the lab station he was at, humming softly to himself as he occasionally looked up to glance at you.

• You knocked over a vial.

• The sorcerer flicked his index and middle fingers up, eyeing the vial intensely as it quickly levitated itself up and back onto its stand.

• “Great job catching yourself, MC.” The instructor nodded, gesturing for you to continue.

• You gave Solomon a weak smile, hesitantly pouring in one of the liquids in a different tube, slowly drizzling another in.

• You peered into the small cast iron cauldron on your lab station, smiling in relief as different reds and purples swirled around on the surface, dancing with one another as they mixed.

• It was only when yellow and green began to bubble up to the top that you got concerned... it wasn’t supposed to bubble, and those were the opposite colors you were aiming for.

• It began to bubble over, quickly expanding and turning into a thick foam, covering the desk in a sticky, marshmallow-like substance.

• That was the final straw for you already anxiety-ridden self. You stood up without another word and darted for the door, nearly tripping over a stool. The door fluttered shut in your wake, only leaving the lingering smell of you for Solomon to cling to.

• You took a few different turns, before ducking down against the wall and curling your knees to your chest. Humiliated sobs racked your body, making you shake and shiver as you struggled to breathe.

• “Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot... idi..ot...” You choked out, tangling your hands into your hair and giving it a harsh tug in a desperate attempt to keep yourself in the moment.

• You brought your hand away from your face, forming it into a fist, pondering how it would feel if it were to connect with your head as hard as you could. Would it knock the back of your skull into the wall? Would you bleed?

• Before you made the choice, you heard swift footsteps making their way down the hall. You held your breath, but the longer they continued, and the closer they got, the more your head began to spin.

• “MC?...” Solomon stepped into your slowly fading view, your gaze feeling hazy as you stared at him, sucking in a quiet breath.

• Static and stars tangoed at the edges of your mind, dizziness gripping your thoughts. “Solomon?... what... what are you doing?”

• It took you a moment to realize in your delirious state, but Solomon had already taken a spot next to you, taking a similar position you were in.

• He said nothing.

• You stared at him, still trembling and sobbing, too wrapped up in your own sorrow to even consider composing yourself.

• He pulled out a spray bottle and misted you in the face.

• You couldn’t help but notice how cold the liquid was, it sent a shiver right up your spine, confusing you just briefly enough to stop crying.

• “What did?... What?... why?... what was that?”

• “Don’t worry, it was just water.” He slowly lowered the bottle.

• “W-what was that for?”

• “Just to snap you out of it. Come here.” He spread his arms, nodding once.

• Did this man really just shock you out of a breakdown?

• Holy shit he did. He just essentially did the same thing as when people throw sliced cheese at crying babies to confuse them.

• And by God did it work.

• “Come on, don’t be shy. We aren’t strangers, I know you need a hug right now.” He flicked his fingers a little, raising his eyebrows slightly.

• You scooted a little closer, giving into what would’ve been shame and just melting into his arms. He snaked his arms up your back, lacing one hand through the hair on the back of your head and pressing your face into his shoulder. “There, there. Everything will be okay, everyone has their bad days, yadda yadda, and eventually we’ll get over them. I cry sometimes too.”

• Warm, salty, tears began to flow from your eyes again, soaking into the thick fabric of his uniform. Your breath hitched through the sobbing, your lungs tightening up.

• “That’s it, cry it out. Don’t be so discouraged, MC. There are spells that I don’t know, and I’ve been studying for thousands of years, you’ve only been studying for a year. All these demons here have been alive for who knows how long, and you still end up getting better grades than a lot of them. That’s crazy, right? Just think about it.”

• The low humming of his voice vibrated in his chest, his breathing permeating your marrow and slowly soothing your nerves. “Y-yeah... I just... it was just so embarrassing...”

• “I had to be rescued a few times because I accidentally trapped myself trying to do new spells. And I’ve had my fair share of mess-ups. Mistakes are part of the learning process, you aren’t meant to get it right the first time, that’s what it takes to really absorb information. And you know? I’m really proud of you. I’m proud of you for messing up. That wasn’t really a mess-up, it was just a different spell you performed at the wrong time.”

• He placed one hand on either side of your head, lifting your face from his chest, his slender fingers brushing strands of your hair out of your face. “You’re one of the most impressive and strongest humans I know, and I know a lot of humans. Your magic; the power you hold is unlike any other, and any spell you perform is bound to hold amazing results, intended or not.”

• “Thank you, Solomon... It means a lot, those words. And from someone as powerful as you, and as strong as you... it’s like you take everything in stride, you always act like everything’s meant to happen.” You stared into his eyes, the portals to his soul.

• “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong. If I’m being entirely honest with you, I was scared with becoming emotionally close with you.” A sad smile graced his features. “Truth be told, I stopped befriending other humans because they always die, that’s why all of my friends are demons and angels. I was sick of losing people. And then you came along, and you changed the way I thought.”

• He slid his hands from your cheeks to your shoulders, giving them a tight squeeze.

• “I can’t possibly thank you enough.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #shall we date obey me #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me barbatos #obey me barbie #obey me diavolo

[miscelunaaa]

sodium vapor | myg

pairing: yoongi x female reader

genre: angst, the one that got away

summary: Yoongi doesn’t have much going for him, but you don’t need much to grow attached. It’s a pity, then, that you lose each other as quickly as you were found.

rating: 18+ for weighty feelings

word count: 2.1k

warnings: Swearing. That That Yoongi, hELP. Also, introspective Yoongi. Tobacco use by both Yoongi and Reader. Implied broken dreams. Implied alcohol use. Yoongi thinks Reader is pretty. Making out :D. Sadness D:. Missed connections.

notes: Um??? Okay so this was wild, start to finish. As with most of my shorter pieces, it started out trying to be short and ended up double the length I initially intended for it. I just cannot shut up, it seems. I also, um … cried while writing this and I’m not sure why. So there’s that. I don’t usually get especially emotional while writing, but this was something else to render. My writer friends know I’ve been struggling a lot with how I feel about my work and my wips, but this … I don’t know, I just feel uncharacteristically confident about it. Regardless, thank you so much for reading. Let me know what you think

my masterlist | my disclaimers | read on ao3

The air’s still hot when Yoongi finally has the chance to step out of the bar for a smoke. It’s dry, which he knows should make it better, but the heat of the day has seeped into the concrete all around and it leaches slowly into the night air. The city heat feels greasy somehow, instead of dry like it’s supposed to. Perhaps it has something to do with the tar, the plastic, the strange way that the city sprang up out of the desert.

It doesn’t matter. He’s still stuck here for the night, playing piano for drunk people at a shitty cowboy-themed bar. If he has to play another trashy ragtime tune on that shitty upright piano, he might actually lose his mind. Which means that he’ll be losing it in about ten to fifteen minutes; it’s the shit people like to hear in fake dives like the one he’s working in. Just add some leopard print and a bolo tie and you’ve got Vegas chic.

He’d been a promising talent. Once upon a time.

After lighting his cigarette, he takes a few drags and then finally lets himself lean on the hard wall behind him. At least it’s quiet, he can take a moment for himself in peace.

Suddenly, the bar’s side door slams open and you stumble out of it, swearing quietly under your breath. Yoongi blinks, trying to mask his surprise and irritation at being disturbed.

He recognizes you from inside; you’re with the bachelorette party screaming at every small thing the house cover band does. Stopping here’s probably just a preamble to hitting up the male strip club down the street. There’s not a ton else to do this far out from the main strip, so as annoying as it is, it makes sense.

He can’t wait for all of you to leave, then maybe the volume inside the bar will be bearable again.

It doesn’t seem like you’ve seen him, because the next thing he knows, you’ve got your face in your hands. You let out a long, low groan of frustration. It echoes jut a little off the cement walls of the alley, and he can’t help but chuckle. This apparently startles you, because suddenly you tense up, stepping back for a moment, before realizing who you’re looking at.

Yoongi’s sure he looks ridiculous. He’s wearing ill-fitting trousers and a boxy jacket, some western get up the bar makes the band wear whenever they play here. They’d gone with cream colored suits for some reason, and in his case he’d gone with a leopard print shirt. He might’ve been feeling very drunk and sarcastic the night he bought it. But it matched the hat, so he didn’t think much of it. Vegas chic and all that.

“You startled me,” you say softly, running your fingertips over the bridge of your nose.

“Same, sweetheart,” he grunts. He takes another drag on his cigarette, the heavy air filling his lungs.

“If you’re going to call me sweetheart, at least let me bum a cigarette off you.”

He can’t help the smirk that comes to him, nor can he help the way he reaches into his jacket breast pocket for the pack and his lighter.

“Fair enough. Seem kind of lucid for a bachelorette party.” He holds the pack out, and watches as you take a cigarette carefully from the laminated inner wrapper. “Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know, having fun?”

“What makes you say I’m not having fun?” You give him a long look as you hold out your hand for the lighter. You’re pretty, he thinks, even in the shitty, high-pressure sodium light coming from the lamp above the bar’s door.

“Was the groan a happy groan then?”

He almost misses the small pout on your lips before the cigarette is between them and you’re trying to light it. “Look, we’re both out here killing our lungs. I’m guessing your night’s going as well as mine is.”

He feels his own smirk grow a little wider. “I’m on my break at a job I’m paid to do.”

“So is the leopard print part of the uniform then?”

Pretty, but with a little bite, he notes. You’ve now crossed into attractive territory in his mind, but he’s not holding his breath. What are the odds that you’re local? It’s unlikely he’ll ever see you again after tonight.

“Might’ve been drunk when I picked it out,” he shrugs. “Still haven’t really answered my question, by the way. But it’s fine if you don’t.”

You take a drag, the lit end brought to life by your own breath. Funny how they kill you, even as they flicker alive.

“My little sister’s getting married,” you say quietly.

“Congratulations to her.” There’s something else there. He wants to ask the question, and he’ll admit it’s selfish. But it’s also not any of his business.

“Yeah, he’s fine I guess. Her in-laws are fucking assholes, but she’ll be at least happy with him. Can’t relate.” The laugh tumbles out of you bitterly; the contrast to your low, soft voice is strange in Yoongi’s ears.

“The in-laws in there?”

“Yeah, some of them. I don’t like them. And that’s okay, they don’t much like me either. Just means that the next few hours are going to suck.”

“I’m sorry.”

This catches you off guard; he can see it in your eyes as you hold his gaze.

“It’s just a lot. I’m not used to being out in the world like this.”

“I know it’s hard to take a guy wearing leopard print seriously, but I know what you mean. I’m sorry you’ve got to put up with all this.”

“It’s just a weird little mating dance thing. I hate it. This is exactly why I didn’t get married when I had the chance. Too much bullshit.”

“That the only reason you didn’t get married?”

You glance at him, a wry smile finally beginning to show. “If you ask my parents, yes.”

Yoongi grunts. Yeah, he really does understand more than one’d guess, but you seem to have faith in his ability to read context clues. You’ve only just met him, but the armor of talking to a stranger while smoking lends itself to an emotional intimacy he’s not felt for a long time. He’s sure you’ve probably not had it in a while either. It feels like you’ve been holding this shit in, and he knows you know that.

“So now what?” he asks, trying to sound gentle. His cigarette is about spent, smoked down to the butt, getting too hot in his throat and lungs for his taste.

“I go back in there and play nice with the sisters of the groom I guess, and all my sister’s college friends.” When you let out a small sigh, a trail of smoke floats up from your lips like incense. It looks strange in the orange light. “Makes me feel so old. Like I’m babysitting.”

“I’m sure.”

“But for now, I’m going to take this moment for me,” you say, your eyes fluttering closed as you take a breath without the drag, filling your lungs with ordinary air. The cigarette you bummed hangs delicately between your curled fingers. “Thank you. For this, and for the company.”

Yoongi realizes that he wants another cigarette already, even as he’s discarding the spent one in the receptacle. He knows it’s because of you, because he wants to spend more time with you. Is it simply for the excuse of doing so? Or is it because the attraction beginning to make his head spin?

He finally looks up from his empty, unbothered fingers, to meet the gaze he can feel on his cheeks. Even in the orange light, the depth in your eyes is unfathomable.

He can see everything, and it makes his tired heart flutter in his chest.

By now, your own cigarette is nearly spent as well, and, as if it’s a habit you’d never outgrown, you drop it to the ground and step on it briefly, before bending down to pick it back up. You drop it into the receptacle, and then brush your hands off on your skirt.

When your gaze meets his next, it feels as if he’s been hit by a bolt of lightning.

For a moment, neither of you do anything, not even breathe. There’s no words to be shared, no huffs or sighs, just the hum of the sodium vapor bulb above and the road noise echoing into the alley from the street. And then, instead of smoke, from your lips come words.

“Kiss me.”

Yoongi surges forward, taking your face in his hands and pressing his mouth to yours. You move your lips against his as your hand creeps up his chest to take a fistful of his shirt and pull him closer. The small bit of momentum has him pressing into you, so that your back gently falls to the wall, letting him feel how your flesh fits against his. With one hand, he continues to caress your cheek, feeling your soft skin beneath his palm; the other reaches up to take off his hat, letting it fall forgotten to the ground.

He breaks away for a second, his breath heavy in his lungs. You taste like cigarettes and some fruity thing you drank before coming out here. And yet, it feels familiar, somehow, in a way that neither of you will ever be able to describe when looking back on this moment.

You’ll each remember how the other tastes. You’ll remember the way the strange orange light dances on his skin, on his hair. The gruffness of his voice as he laughs and leans back in to take your bottom lip between his teeth.

Yoongi will remember your smile into the kiss. He’ll think about the way your breath caught in your throat as he pressed his tongue against yours. For days after, he’ll brush a finger or two over his mouth, wondering if it was all real, if the heat of your body seeping through your clothes and his was real. If it all even happened, or if it was just the heady desert heat and the sodium vapor light casting its weird shadows again.

Your fingertips brush over the skin exposed by the undone buttons of his shirt, brushing over the chains and the stupid bolo tie he’d started wearing as a joke. Now he’ll think about you whenever he puts it on for this gig.

You’ll think about his hand tilting your face into his, deepening the kiss, for the rest of your life. When you see the pictures taken on this night, you won’t be able to help thinking about the man in the alley, the piano player that you’ll never see again. Not even after visiting the bar again during daytime hours.

He can feel your pulse beneath his palm, racing just the same as his. When he pulls away again, there’s a thread of saliva that stretches and breaks. Before he can lean in for a third kiss, the bar door slams open.

“Yoongi, we’re late for the next set. Get your ass in here.” And then as quickly as he came, his bandmate disappears, the door creaking shut behind him.

He sighs, letting his forehead come to rest against yours. There it is, the hum of the lamp overhead. The sound of your shuddering breaths. Hard pavement underfoot.

Suddenly, you’re pressing forward, pressing your lips to his. A third kiss. The third kiss, rather, because it’s the last one you’ll share together.

“Go,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“Wait for me after the show, okay?”

“Yeah. Of course. I—yes.”

You smile at him, and he smiles at you. It strikes Yoongi all at once how odd this is. He doesn’t even know your name, but he doesn’t need it. He knows you more deeply than a name could ever describe. That’s enough for him. This is something past his understanding, and he accepts that.

More hard to accept, for the both of you, is how the universe will keep you apart. You never get the chance to give your party the slip as they move on to their next stop, and Yoongi never gets the chance to shake his band members.

Ill-advised as it might be, both of you find yourselves wandering the strip until late, hoping that maybe, just as fate brought you together the first time, it might bring you together a second.

The only steady company the two of you ever find that night will be the streetlights lighting the way back to your beds.

Thank you for reading! Drop me an ask and tell me what you think. Find me in various places at my carrd :)

©miscelunaaa 2022. My work is only found on this blog and under my ao3 pseud. Do not, under any circumstances, copy or repost my work.Thank you.

posted: 4.30.2022

#btshoneyhive #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfic #myg fic #myg fanfic #min yoongi fic #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fanfiction #angst #myg angst #yoongi angst #I have a lot of feelings rn #there's so much here #I cannot even fathom where it all came from but it's out and holy shit

[profound-bouquetbird]

RAHHHHHH HIIII

Can I request a Hunter x nonbinary! Reader angst?

A bit of a summary;

The reader usually wears baggy clothes and also has a *ton* of scars and burn marks (mainly from failed magic experiments and phsycal abuse) The reader has one burn mark in particular that's pretty deep, and it's in between their eyes and goes to their nose.

So anyways, the reader's super insecure about all of their scars and burns that they end up isolating themself from everyone.

P.S; I ADORE your writing!

HELLO!! I absolutely love this, sorry if it doesnr have enough angst in it or if it didn't go as you expected :(

But I absolutely adore this request! Since I have school I had to out this request aside until i come back, so I hope you don't mind :)

Btw this oneshot doesn't start off with Hunter emidiatly, since I wanted to put a bit of backstory.. if that makes sense

Key words: Y/n - your name; L/n - last name

Warnings: Luz is refered to it at the start, barely has any angst, probably could say it doesn't have any angst but there's mentions of the reader feeling sad ig

Not proof read

Anyway I sould probably start writing this now 😅

Y/n walked through the hexside halls. Their mask covering half of their face, their hands in their pockets as students looked at them with all kinds of expressions

But Y/n was used to that at this point, having students not wanting to talk to them just because of their looks. But they couldn't blame them, they did look a little intimidating

"Woah!" Some one yelled, Y/n just ignored the voice as they continued to walk down the hall. But they could have sworn that they could hear footsteps running towards them

And so, they turned their head with a confused expression to see a human running towards them. Y/n's eyes widened as they flinched when the human stopped in front of them

"You look so cool!" The human yelled, Y/n looked left and right before looking back at the human

"Me?" They questioned, pointing towards themselves as the human shook it's head vigorously, as it seemed to let out squeels of joy. Y/n felt a warm feeling in their chest as they smiled from underneath their mask

But before the human could say anything it was pulled away by three scared looking witches

"Luz! Don't just run off like that!" One with purple hair whisper yelled as she looked at Y/n with fear in her eyes

"C'mon, let's get going." One with green hair said, seeming not wanting to look at Y/n. Y/n's face dropped, as they felt their heart break slightly

The human seemed to notice the sudden change of behavior, but Luz couldn't do anything. She could only stare at them ad their heartbroken expression, their ears dropping slightly as they walked away

'How could I have been so naive? Of course they would be afraid of me.. why do I even bother getting my hopes up.' they thought to themselves, entering class as they could feel every single students gaze on them

Rolling their eyes they just walked to their seat and took their books out, waiting for the lesson to finally begin

------

Y/n walked through the halls, the witches and demons around them trying to avoid even the slightest contact with them

But as soon as Y/n got out of the hell hole and took a breath of fresh air, they instantly felt better. Smiling underneath their mask they slowly walked towards their house, but from the corner of their eye they could see a rather familiar figure

They turned their head and saw the human, or sould they say Luz since they found out her name during that awkward encounter, talking with whom mingt be Eda the owl lady, and a dog looking creature

Luz quickly noticed Y/n's staring as her smile grew, waving towards them she started to run to their direction. Y/n just stood there, not knowing if Luz was waving to them or to someone behind them

Figuring that someone was behind them they just shrugged and continued their way home

"Wait!" They heard someone yell, turning their head they saw Luz standing next to them, while breathing heavily might I add, making Y/n jump slightly

"Sorry if I scared you." She apologized, straightening up as she gave them a kind smile

"My names Luz, Luz Noceda." Luz said, extending her hand. Y/n looked at her with a weird expression, grabbing her hand as they lightly shook it

"Y/n, Y/n L/n." They said calmly, but on the inside they were freaking out

'Why does the human want to talk to me?! Isn't she scared of me or something?!' But one though came to mind that made their heart drop

They had to get home before 3:00 PM, and it was 2:47 PM. They knew that their parents would kill them if they weren't home in time. Well metaphoracly speaking they would kill them

"Oh- sorry but.. I have to get going." Y/n said, grabbing their palismen as they sat on it nd quickly flew away, not giving Luz enough time to say a proper goodbye. Only hearing a slight 'bye!' in the distance

Rushing towards their home they could feel their heart beat increase more and more as they looked at their watch, only having a minute to spare

As soon as they arrived at their house they burst through the door and ran in the house

Closing the door behind them of course, before running in to the living room

"I'm home!" They yelled, out of breath, but only to be met by an empty living room. They raised their brow at the empty living room, looking around each and every room only to find nothing

"Is anyone home?" They yelled, finally reaching the kitchen, they saw a note on the fridge, quickly walking towards it as they grabbed it, reading it

They groaned in anoyence as they crumbled the paper and threw the paper in to the bin. It was a note from their parents, saying that they had to go on some, quote 'business trip' end quote, and they they'll miss them sooooo much

But Y/n knew they were lying, they knew that they only left those notes to make them worry less as they go to on some vacation to get as far away from their child as possible

And honestly it was anoying having to go home and worry on what their parents might do next, only to find out that they had left them again to go on some made up business trip. But at the same time relieving, knowing that their parents won't be there to do sick and twisted things for every single little mistake they made

Sighing, they only walked up the stairs towards their room, opening their door they threw their book bag next to their desk

Sitting down on their chair they took of their mask and put it on the table before rummaging through their book bag, taking out all of their homework. With a loud sigh they slowly started doing their homework

-----

Closing their book with a loud groan they stood up from their chair and stretched, letting out a groan of pleasure as they felt their back pop

Looking out of their window they smiled lightly as they saw what looks like a red cardinal sitting on to the tree the was conveniently right next to their window, that they used to sneak out, looking straight at them with a tilted head

Y/n sighed and quickly grabbed their mask, putting it on so that it covered the scar on their nose as they walked towards their window

Opening it slightly they leaned against their window and extended their arm towards the bird. The cardinal chirped happily as it hopped onto Y/n's hand

Y/n croigh the cardinal closer towards them as they lightly scratched it's head. Smiling widely Y/n turned around and sat on their windowsill, continuing to pet the cardinal lightly as it chirped in satisfaction

"Flapjack!" Y/n jumped lightly as they turned around, the bird flying to their shoulder as it looked towards the forest with them

"FLAPJACK! WHERE ARE YOU?!" Y/n raised a brow as they looked towards the red bird

"Is that your name?" They asked, the bird chirped as if to agree. Y/n sighed, knowing that they had to go through another awkward encounter

Grabbing onto the tree they slowly started to climb down, Flapjack still on their shoulder as they walked towards the forest as soon as they reached the ground

Y/n saw a boy with his back turned towards them, frantically searching for what Y/n would assume was his missing palismen

"Hey!" They yelled, the boy jumped as he quickly turned towards them, "Is this your palismen?" They asked, pointing towards the bird on their shoulder

They boy seemed relived as soon s he saw the bird on Y/n's shoulder, he started to run towards their direction as the palismen flew towards him

"Flapjack!" They boy yelled happily, the bird flew around his head happily, chirping out of joy

"Thank you so much." The boy thanked, smiling warmly at the witch, "How could I ever repay you?" He asked, walking towards them with a warm smile

"Oh, you don't need to repay me-"

"Please! I insist, you don't know how much this means to me." He breathed out, clasping his hands together. Y/n squinted slightly, finally closing their eyes as they were about to regret the words that were about to leave their mouth

"You could repay me by... Being my friend." They mumbled, fiddling with their hands as they kicked the dirt

The boy seemed stunned as he stared at they with with wide eyes, his ears dropping slightly as he cleared his throat

"O-oh... I though of more like: 'Give me a 100 snails!' or something similar.." His ears turned a light red as he scratched the back of his neck. They fell silent, the only things that could be heard were the rustling of the leaves and the whistling of the wind

"You know what. Just- just forget it." Y/n said, their face turning red from embarrassment as they turned around to leave

"Wait!" The bog grabbed onto their wrist, Y/n turned round with one brow raised, 'Did he actually consider?' they asked themselves as they watched the nervous boy

"Sure, I'll be your friend..." He said, smiling warmly at Y/n while letting go of their wrist. Y/n's eyes widened as they turned their whole body towards him

He extended his hand as he spoke, "The name's Hunter." Y/n grabbed his hand and shook it gently

"Y/n." They replied, closing their eyes as they smiled, even though their smile couldn't be seen Hunter quickly got the message, smiling back at them

-----

Y/n sat on their bed, reading a book they found about wild magic while their parents argued downstairs

Suddenly they heard tapping on their window. Turning their head their eyes widened s they saw Hunter smirking at them whilst sitting on the tree next to their window

Y/n jumped from their bed and ran towards their window, opening it Hunter quickly walked in as he dusted his clothes

"Are you crazy?!" Y/n whisper-yelled, not wanting their parents to hear the commotion

"What? Can't I visit my lovely best friend in the whole wide world." Hunter exaggerated, hugging Y/n tightly. Y/n cold feel the heat rush to their face but they quickly pulled away

"Hunter, you can't be here. My parents are gonna kill me!" They whispered, pinching the bridge of their nose

"Well, I'm not leaving." He smirked, sitting down on their bed as he crossed his arms. Y/n glared at him as they approached him, grabbing one of his arms as they tried to pull him off of their bed

"C'mon! What do I have to do for you to leave?" They asked, already giving up on trying to drag him out

His smirk somehow managed to grow as he stood up, looking towards Y/n

"How about you follow me?" He asked, extending his hand out for them to take. Y/n looked at his hand, then at him, then at his hand and then back at him

"You've got to be kidding me." They sighed, rolling their eyes as they laid their hand on top of his. He was quick to pull them towards the window, picking them up in his arms with no struggle as he climbed onto his palismen, that Y/n had noticed only now

He made sure Y/n held onto him tightly before flying off

"Close your eyes." He said, Y/n listened to his command as they closed their eyes tightly. They just enjoyed the moment for a while, hugging onto Hunter felt like heaven, for them every single contact with Hunter was enjoyable, even if they just brushed hands Y/n enjoyed each and every moment they shared with him

"Keep your eyes closed." He said, Y/n felt that they had suddenly came to a stop, and they quickly felt the ground unterneath them, as well as Hunter's hand holding onto theirs

Heat rushed to their face as they let out a soft sigh

"For how long do I have to keep my eyes closed exactly?" Y/n said, dragging behind Hunter as they tried not to hit anything whilst they walked

"Just for a little while longer, we're almost there." They heard hunter say, they suddenly felt more and more curious, the urge to open their eyes becoming bigger and bigger, but they kept them closed, not wanting to betray Hunter

Y/n suddenly hit hunters back as he chuckled

"You can open your eyes now." He said, Y/n's eyes fluttered open as they watched the beautiful scene in front of them

They stood on a cliff that looked upon the boiling sea, the birds flying as the sun was setting

"Wow." Y/n breathed out, their hand slipping out of Hunter's as they walked closer to the end of the cliff

They suddenly felt the ground underneath them crack, but before they could fall they felt an arm wrap around their waist

They watched as the small amount of ground they were standing on completely collapsed and fell in to the boiling sea

"Careful there." Hunter laughed, letting go of Y/n's waist. Y/n opened their mouth to say something but they were interrupted by a black Raven with buttons on its cheat flying towards them

Their heart dropped as the bird stood on their shoulder and started to speak

"For titans sake Y/n! Where the hell are you!?" They heard their dads voice

"H-hey dad-"

"There's no time to make small talk. Get over here. Now." The bird closed it's mouth and quickly flew away

"I-I'm gonna go." Y/n stuttered as they walked back into the woods

"Wait!" Hunter yelled, Y/n stopped in their tracks and turned around, but before they could muster up a response they felt their mask getting pulled down and a soft pair of lips attaching to theirs

Y/n's eyes widened, but they quickly melted in to the kiss, holding the boys cheek gently as they tilted their head slightly and leaned in to the kiss

Hunter wrapped his hands around Y/n's waist with one hand and gently put his had on the back of their head, deepening the kiss

The two soon parted for air, looking in to each other's eyes with what was presumed to be shock, but they quickly smiled at each other, hugging each other as Y/n closed their eyes, almost forgetting about the awful things their parents are gonna do to them

"Well... You better get going." Hunter said, his smile dropping as he let go of Y/n, already missing their warmth

"Yeah.." Was the only thing Y/n could muster up, before grabbing their palismen and quickly flying off

-----

Months after the kiss Hunter hadn't came to visit Y/n at all. Being to afraid that they were gonna yell at him for kissing them and break off their friendship

But as each day passed Y/n started to get more and more worried, wondering if something bad happened to Hunter

Finally, after months of Hunter not appearing Y/n heard a tap on their window. Their head flew up as they saw Hunter sheepishly looking towards them

They quickly got to their feet as they ran towards their window, not bothered by all of the noise they were making since their parents were, once again, out of town

"Hunter!" They opened the window, "Where have you been?!" They yelled, grabbing Hunter's arm as they dragged him in

"Around." Was the only thing he said

"What do you mean 'Around'?! I haven't seen you in months! I thought something bad happened to you!" Y/n yelled, hugging Hunter tightly as tears threatened to fall from their eyes

"Listen..." Hunter started, taking a deep breath, "I was afraid that.. you wouldn't like me like that." Hunter scratched the back of his neck, avoiding contact

"Are you serious?" Y/n said, Hunter turned his head to see them with a: 'are you fucking stupid?' look

"I literally kissed you back dumbass!" They yelled

"That could just have been your instincts." Hunter said, his ears dropping slightly as he crossed his arms and looked away again

"How can you be so dumb." Y/n mumbled

Hunter felt gentle hands holding his face, turning his head. Before he could say anything he felt his lips connect to Y/n's

He quickly melted in to the kiss, grabbing their waist he quickly pulled them closer towards him

Their lips parted as they stared at each other for a little while. Hunter then smiled as he quickly pecked their lips

"I love you so much, Y/n." Hunter mumbled, putting his forehead against theirs, making Y/n smile lightly

"I love you too dumbass."

Fjaifnxenskandbyidn sorry it took me this long to write your request! Hope you like it :)

[in-my-feels-probably]

Heyy… so I saw your 1000 Follower celebration and I think this is a very sweet Idea, so I definitely have no choice but to „participate“ in this. So the fandom I’d like would be Bridgerton, with option two. I’d want the blurb to be with one of the guys, romantically (but please not Anthony since I’m not a huge fan of him in that way, if that makes sense)

So let’s see… some thinks about me:

My Name is Alissa (she/her) no idea if you’ll include names or not but just to be sure

I have roots in Germany (the west to be oddly specific)

I have brown hair, brown eyes & my skin is probably what people would describe as tanned, but it must be natural since I barely leave the house 😂 fun fact because of that people also always thought I was adopted because my parents look very white

My hair is a bit longer than shoulder length and it’s really straight

I’m around 5‘3, if that’s something you wanna include as well

In my free time I often draw, mostly Portrait but sometimes also animals. I always hoped I could make this my profession at some point but I haven’t gotten that lucky yet. I’ll be working on it tho :)

I also read a lot and write a bit as well

I love all animals, especially dogs (I have one named Zoey)

My favorite color is Purple 💜

The most important thing in my life is definitely my family. I hate being away from them for too long. I’m very close with my mum and stepdad, they have always been there for me when I’ve had a hard time (back in school for example) since I was struggling a lot with anxiety and depression (wow feels good to admit that)

(You don’t have to use all of this, but I think it’s better if you have a few options so it’s easier to write)

I think that’s a lot of information already. If there’s anything I forgot please tell me, I’m really tired right now since I’m writing this at 2 AM so I wouldn’t be surprised if I did forget something 😂

Well, thanks so much for doing this. It’s such a sweet Idea 💗

- Alissa 🪐

hi!

thank you for participating :)

i ship you with benedict!

you’re an artist, like he is. it’s not a profession you can really make a living out of at the time, at least unless you’re already rich. it’s not a profession people generally respect, despite the greats becoming rich and famous. regardless of your skill level, or how well known your work would be, benedict would absolutely adore that you value art as much as he does. when he’d have a block, you’d give him ideas. you’d inspire him to create what he loves, not what others expect of him. you’d always encourage him to create, never judging his choices. whatever the outcome, you’d praise it. he’d never feel judged or embarrassed by you.

you seem like a gentle soul, which he’d really love. not only does he love art, but he loves literature and poetry. he’d think of you with every poem he read, and in any he writes. he’d see you in the gentle things of the world. a flower blooming in the first of spring, or one of the horses having a baby foal. you’d be a breath of fresh air for him, always making him feel light and airy. he’d be content as long as he was with you. if you didn’t want to go out, he’d be content to stay in. wherever you were, even if it was away from the ton, he’d be.

he’d also love that you value family. he cares so much for his, and is constantly surrounded by them. if you got along with them well, he’d love you even more. being around them, you’d never feel alone. but there’d still be days you felt alone, even with all of them around you. benedict understands this, being the second born son who is considered far less important than anthony by society. i think benedict struggles with his own mental illness. when you finally confided with him about yours, he’d think you were the bravest person in the world. getting up and facing every day with a smile on your face, despite your struggles, you’d inspire him even more, if that was even possible.

benedict would go through a period of a few days to week where he hadn’t drawn or painted anything at all. one day you’d walk in to see him sitting by the window, finally painting a sketch you’d seen him drawing in the weeks prior. a lavender flower.

“what are you doing, love? is that lavender?”

“it is,” he’d smile up at you, motioning for you to come closer. “lavender is said to reduce stress and anxiety. and i know purple is your favorite color. purple is associated with admiration. like mine for you.”

you’d nearly cry at his expression, smiling tearful down at him as he set down his brushes.

“we’re getting this one framed. i hope you know that.”

he’d chuckle, wiping his hands before wrapping an arm around your waist. “you like it then, i take it?”

“i love it,” you’d smile, bending down to press a kiss to the top of his head. “and i love you.”

“i love you too, darling.”

—

i hope you liked this! i really enjoyed reading about you and writing this for you. thank you again for participating :)

#benedict bridgerton #1k followers #1k followers celebration #1000 followers celebration #1000 followers #followers celebration #bridgerton

[bekah-reading]

42/50

5/5

I feel like my enjoyment of the book was a nice combination of needing a non-fiction, loving John Green, and my love for stream of consciousness writing style.

I love reading things, whether they be non-fiction or fiction, that make me think. I love the mental stimulation that comes from the conversation of these things.

My favourite did end staying the really early essay that reviews are sense of wonder. I did the essay about the internet as well.

After tons and tons of fiction this year, this was a breath of fresh air. I need more non-fiction. I also should try to figure out my ratio.

Another brilliant work by John Green.

#booklr #reading #booktok #horrorbooks #2022 reading #2022 reading challenge #reading challenge #john green #the anthropocene reviewed

[scary-senpai]

They say 'write for yourself,' and so here's Genos and Garou arguing about the mathematics of Christmas.

...I don't know, I just think they're neat. :D In any case, I am glad to be getting into the spirit of @wanpanmas 2022 and also finally my fic from Wanpanmas 2021.

Not yet beta read, there may be science errors because I usually have my boyfriend fact-check my jokes.

“Alright,” Garou sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tell me exactly what I’m looking at.”

The whiteboard was literally painful to look at. Shining more brightly than fresh-fallen snow (and with a nasty glare to match), it was as large as a wide-screen television. Scrawled across the surface in tiny, meticulous strokes of blue ink were countless symbols, numbers, and letters—calculations, Garou guessed. Not that he could make heads or tales of it.

As far as Garou was concerned, the whole mess may as well be ancient hieroglyphs—overwhelming, incomprehensible remnants from an entirely different world. And that’s how he felt, standing beside Genos in the kitchen—as if they were from two entirely different civilizations, separated by time, possibly even space.

“These are the comprehensive mathematics of your so-called ‘Santa,’” Genos explained. “Figure two billion adolescents currently in existence, and roughly 15% observe Christmas. For simplicity’s sake, we will ignore the complexities of mixed-faith households, as well as the existence of Orthodox Christmas.”

“Uh-huh.”

Garou rubbed his eyes, dizzy with all the facts and figures swirling behind them.

“On average, one can expect to find roughly 3.5 children in every home—wait, Garou, why are you laughing?”

“I’m not.”

Garou was, actually, although he sensed he shouldn’t be… snickering as he envisioned a family of three full children and one half child standing side by side.

“Alright,” Genos continued. “Postulating 3.5 children per home, let’s assume that at least one child can expect gifts from Santa. In the interest of time, we will sidestep any philosophical discourse regarding the nature of ‘good,’ of which there are many—“

“Yeah, ‘moral dessert’ and whatnot,” Garou muttered. “The hell’s that?”

“A reindeer.”

Garou eyed the four-legged stick figure with what seemed like antennae (or possibly horns). A jumble of shapes—mostly squares and circles—appeared linked to the thing.

It almost, almost looked like a reindeer.

“Does Santa have eight of those?”

“Taking into account the gifts and the sleigh, Santa has a payload of 321,300 tons, not including Santa,” Genos said plainly, as if this were common knowledge and Garou already understood what these numbers meant.

“…and?”

“Presupposing the existence of exceptionally gifted reindeer, Santa would require no less than 214,200 to support the weight of his payload. In order to conserve resources, I have augmented my sketches with scientific notation.”

Genos pulled a napkin from his front pocket and snapped it with all the flourish of a picador.

“‘Back-of-the-napkin calculations’,” Garou grumbled. “Of course.”

“In order to frequent all 91.8 million qualified dwellings within the requisite 31-hour timeframe, Santa must accelerate to 650 miles per second—roughly 3,000 times the speed of sound. Moving at this unthinkable speed, with this inconceivable payload would generate enormous air resistance,” Genos continued, pausing for a breath he did not need to take. “Not unlike a spaceship re-entering the atmosphere, for example.”

“Uh-huh.”

“As I am sure you’re aware, hundreds of meteors breach our planet’s atmosphere and fall towards the earth itself,” Genos continued, “yet only a handful will actually complete their journey. The remainder burn up upon re-entry, which means—“

Genos snapped the napkin again, showing off the drawing on the other side: a rotund stick figure with a strange, triangular hat, that was (painfully, unfortunately) on fire.

“In conclusion,” Genos declared, “if Santa once existed, he does no longer—due to rampant population growth and the spread of Christianity.”

(the primary source of the santa calculations is here: http://www.comedycorner.org/5.html)

here's a silly drawing of Genos' reindeer. when it comes to illustrations, Garou thinks he can do it better, but he also understands now is not the time to try.

#opm fanfic #one punch man fanfic #genos #garou #genos opm #garou opm #my writing #wilf #(work i'd like to finish) #holiday hi jinks #garou x genos #gearou #genos had good intentions he really did #he is just so very Extra #sorry tareo #it will get better i promise #everything is actually saitama's fault #ca-chan can't science

[livingwithlosingyou]

Living with Losing You - 8/15/2022

Got through it!

Luckily work today was not too bad! I was very relieved. I gave huge kudos to my team for being able to cover me while I was out for the last 4 weeks. It’s pretty insane that it’s already been that long. Tomorrow will be exactly one month since you took your life. Insane. It still almost doesn’t feel real. I know it is, I just hate that it is.

I didn’t sleep well last night (but honestly, have I ever?) so I woke up early and signed on to start going through my email. I had a lot to catch up on. Still do. Like I said, fortunately all in all I did not have a ton of “Fires” that I immediately had to put out. I used to call you while I worked and just sit on the phone with you while you played a game and I worked. we weren’t physically together but it gave me a sense of comfort to know that you were there presently with me, and available for me to talk to if I wanted to start a conversation. I miss that. I was able to keep composure for the workday though which was nice. It is a good distraction, even though I struggled a bit to focus since I am so depressed. 

I have been eating more which is great. Go me! I lost a lot of weight when you took your life, so I am really trying to be better about making sure that I am eating. Sleeping is the larger challenge as I mentioned. I was sad because the baby blue hydrangeas that I mentioned that I bought while I went grocery shopping (so I would actually have food to eat at home) essentially died overnight. I mean, it’s hot in the apartment, but that was just depressing. I guess it made me think of you and how I thought you had more life left in you. I hate that I have such morbid thoughts like that, but I really can’t help it. 

After work and multiple meals I went to practice. Mondays the boys will have speed workouts, so today we split the JV and Varsity and did a tempo / mile repeats depending on what level you’re at. These are always fun. I am so glad that I am able to coach, because it really does help me emotionally and usually physically. I have noticed that running and I have not gotten along post COVID. To quickly recap, I ran one mile on Saturday (like 10 minute pace) and then two miles on Sunday (8 minute then 10:30 minute paces). Today I was feeling good, and picked up my pace a bit. Well, it felt good until it didn’t and I couldn’t breathe. My lungs still ache and this was hours ago. It is so frustrating (or how you LOVE to say it, “fustrating”) because I was in such good shape and now I am gasping for air and my lungs hurt like hell after I run. I did get a little concerned though because I feel like my lungs shouldn’t ache that much. Or should they? Any people reading this that have contracted COVID and have lingering issues, please feel free to chime in. 

I was supposed to go to a church group tonight, but honestly after that run and then struggling to breathe / being in pain, I settled on making some left overs for dinner. After I ate i did start to write some more music. Writing in general is really helping me get through it. Well, try to at least. I took Sadie on a mini walk and shed a few tears when I got to the top of the hill. I just miss you so much. It makes me so sad but also angry in ways. i really go between the two emotions. 

I am relieved that I have tomorrow off. I did end up logging onto my email for work to try and catch up on some more emails tonight. I am listening to a podcast as well called “Mental Health Matters”. They’re talking about “Profound Grief”, it’s interesting. 

I did make sure I had weekly therapy scheduled (except for when I am in KY since therapists have to be licensed in the state I am in when we connect). I also ended up pushing that dentist appointment up that’s been rescheduled like 5 times. Some unforeseen circumstances from the dental staff, and then of course form myself as well. This is good though because my tooth that needs a crown is actually hurting. Fingers crossed it doesn’t hurt as badly tomorrow. The appointment is Wednesday morning. Also may have found a trauma / grief therapist. This is good news! Just waiting for them to get back to me. If not, all good, Back to the drawing board. 

I should really try and go to bed. I have Sadie’s vet appointment at like 8:30am. I also have a doctors appointment (need to pick up my LOA paperwork) and then seeing a new friend (from that group I mentioned when I went to improv) in the evening. Hoping it’ll be a good day. It will likely be a very hard day. Man. One month. 

James, I wish so much you could be with us. But then, I realize that you really are still with me. And I plan to keep you alive in my heart, always. No matter where life takes me. 

Will love you forever. Sadie and latte miss you. We all do. Your little family (as you called it) will always be yours. 

Rest in Peace, James Burton Nichols

10/1/1993 - 7/16/2022

[chippedaxe]

yessss for karl?! omg yess please pleas please can you write a dom step sis! reader ruining innocent stepbro! karl!!

like she teases him and he just isn’t experienced at all and she just fucking destroys him, wanking him until the sensitive little bunny is crying and begging to stop from overstimulation

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Title: Silly Boy

Warnings: !TW: STEPCEST!, NSFW (Minors DNI), cursing, corruption ig, blackmail, degrading, teasing, humiliation, penis degrading, small penis, overstimulation

Pronouns: She/her Afab

Synopsis: The reader dominates Karl and knocks him down a peg.

Word count: 2k

Note: If this type of content offends you in any way then please just ignore it, I have tons of other content on my page that isn't stepcest content and you're able to blockout any stepcest content by blocking the 'tw sepcest' or 'stepcest cw' tag <3

- This prolly isn't what u wanted but I thought of this and wanted to write it! also this hasn't been proofread and it hasn't been edited at all!

*Btw Veruca Salt is a spoiled kid that gets everything she wants, from Charlie and the chocolate factory.

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Your eyes glared down at the younger boy, towering over him to show dominance "S-sis, what're you doing?" Karl asked "Trying to scare you, is it working?" you leaned down and kept eye contact with the stammering boy "u-um not really.." he stuttered out "then why're you stuttering over your words? You're obviously intimidated." you placed your hands on your hips.

"Well why're you trying to intimidate me? I'm just trying to read this book!" he groaned "Because someone has to knock you down a peg, you think just because you're younger that you can get everything you want? Well not if I can help it!" you were furious by the boy.

"What're you on about? What've I done to you?" Karl asked worriedly "You've been asking for a whole lot this week, veruca salt!" you threw your arms in the air and started pacing around him and his chair "What? Like what?" Karl was utterly confused "You've been asking for non-stop rides to your friends houses, and you've been leaving your laundry around for mother to do!" you cross your arms.

"You're overreacting!" Karl complained "Oh I'm not done! You've also been taking money from mom's purse!" you called him out "What- how did you know about that??" Karl immediately became tense "Oh you look so stressed dear brother, just relax- don't worry... I'm not gonna tell her-" Karl sighed in relief "Oh thank god" and got cut off by you finishing your sentence "-If you promise to be a good brother and listen to what your stepsister says!" you finished.

"WHAT? No way! I'm telling mom and dad!" He began to stand up but you pushed him back down "Oh no no no, you're gonna tell them what? That you stole the $200 that mom presumed was stolen by a thief? You gonna explain that to her after she already called authorities and had someone sent to jail?" you spat venom at him.

"You're evil!" Karl shouted "Me? Evil? I'm not the thief here" you grinned mischievously "Although I could be- if you don't wanna have to do everything I say then just give me something precious you own" you held your hand out expectantly "What am I supposed to give you? My soul?" Karl questioned "If you can bare to part with it then yes" you gave a mean smile in response to his sarcasm.

"I have literally nothing!" Karl exclaimed "You have your phone" you suggested "Dad would kill me if he found out I'd given it away!" He shouted "he'd kill you if he found out about that money too" you reminded him "I- I could give you... I'll let you date one of my friends!" Karl smiled nervously as he hoped you'd agree "What friends? You're a nerd, no one would want to be friends with you" snickered.

"S-Sapnap! He's strong, he loves animals, he has big muscles!" Karl said "The brute with dark hair? He's cute but not my type" you yawned "U-m.. Quackity?" a bead of sweat dropped down his face "He's super cool, really funny!" Karl was starting to worry as he was already running out of friends to pair you with "No.. My type is nerdy boys that I can dominate, ones that get nervous a lot and stutter over their sentences" you hinted.

"Oh- like Wilbur? I'm not really his friend but I can try something!!" Karl wasn't getting the hint "No, I was thinking more specifically towards someone like you." you finally told him "M-me? But I'm your brother!" Karl was in disbelief "Step-brother. And I don't really like you, I just think that you're pitiful and if you're gonna be selling someone's body to me in exchange to keep your secrets safe than it may as well be yours." you explained.

"But- Well- I've never done that before!" he put his hands up defensively "Well obviously, who would want to touch a greasy nerd like you?" you sighed. "Well- No, that's wrong!" he shook his head "Well I'm not gonna make you, just give me something else then and I'll be on my way" you told him. Karl looked down at his feet for a moment as he mulled over what was happening and what decision he was gonna make.

Karl lifted his head and made eye contact with you "Okay." he replied "Okay what? Okay you're gonna give me something?" you asked "No- I mean- okay I'm gonna give you my body" he mumbled quietly "Gonna need to speak up, can't hear you over the sound of our parents crying over having such a disappointing child" you ridiculed him.

"I'll give you my body, damnit!" he yelled "hey- quiet down, our parents are only just down stairs!" you made him shut up. "Whatever" he leaned back in his chair and slumped down "Karl. You need to give me your full consent, you can't just go 'yea whatever' and expect me to be fine with that!" you furrowed your eyebrows "Why?? What- do you need me to beg you for it?!" he was getting aggravated.

"Actually yes, I do" you decided to torment him a little bit "Big sis, please please please fuck this desperate loser" he put his hands together to make a praying gesture as he mocked you "That's more like it, runt." you grabbed his chin and forced him to face you "We can stop at any time, if you choose not to speak up then that'll be your fault" you made sure he was fully aware that he had a say even though he wasn't in control.

"Thanks. Now- how do we?" Karl was now confused on what you were gonna do, and he was having some type of delusion that he was gonna be the one in charge dominating you. "I think I'm just gonna have some fun by jerking you off, is that okay bunny?" you teased "W-what do you mean you're gonna jerk me off?" Karl asked nervously "I'm gonna stroke your dick, never done that before?" you bullied him.

"N-no, never even thought about it.." his face became red and flushed, you slowly slid onto his lap and straddled his leg "No? You haven't? Are you lying to your big sister? That's not very nice you know, Mom always told me that you shouldn't lie (Unless it's to your dad) " Karl glanced away from you and tried to hide his face "Aw you can tell me the truth, I'm a good listener after all!" you encouraged him "I haven't.." he persisted.

"Well then let me introduce you to the pleasure that is being jerked off, slide your pants down" you instructed "What? Do I have to.." he was clearly embarrassed "No. I guess I could just palm you through your pants" you shrugged. Karl sighed in relief and let out a small breath, tilting his head back in the chair and waiting for you to do what you wanted.

Your hand dipped between his legs, your palm rubbing his growing bulge "H-Hey that feels weird" he told you "So what? You want me to stop?" he shut his mouth, encouraging you to keep palming him. "This would feel a lot better if you let your cock free, instead your trapping it in your tight pants and strangling it.." you frowned "F-fine.." Karl blushed as he slowly pulled his pants down.

You watched in delight as he released his penis "Oh is this what you were worried about?" you stared down at it "O-Oh god-" Karl felt humiliated and went to put it away but you stopped him "It's cute.. I wouldn't expect a nerd's penis to be big anyways" you told him. Karl's little cock twitched at your words, moving slightly on its own "oh. my. god. You LIKE when I'm mean to you! That's why you never argue back! It all makes sense now.." Karl looked down to avert eye contact.

"That's perfect Karl, you love when I'm mean to you- and I love to make fun of you! Win Win!" you felt a small rush of excitement. Your hand wrapped around his cock which forced a choked out moan from him, his hands moving to cover his face "you're acting quite rude Karl. Look at your big sister when she's talking to you!" you ordered.

Karl slowly revealed his face, revealing how much pleasure he was having. "F-Feel's weird, let go!" he ushered you to let go of his penis, even though his body disagreed; his hips bucking up into your hand to help finish him off "Trust your big sister." you said as you continued to pump your hand around his cock. "Fuck! Fuck you!" Karl's whole body shuddered as he was having an orgasm, his penis twitching in your hand.

"Wow Karl, that was rude." you huffed and narrowed your eyes, your hand still lingering on his crotch "A-are you done now?" Karl panted as he was trying to catch his breath "Done? I've barely even started!" you laughed maniacally as you began to slowly stroke him again "Ah- no no no, that's too much!" Karl whined. "You want me to stop?" you asked him "Yes!" he exclaimed so you let go and pulled away "What?" Karl was confused and a bit upset "Hm? What is it?" you asked "You're just.. done?" he looked saddened.

"You told me to stop!" you explained "yeah but.. I didn't really mean it.." Karl's cheeks were dusted red "Well come back here then" you grabbed his hips and forced him back down onto his chair. Karl was already eager and bucking his hips up against you, your hand grabbed him again and started to jerk him off "Ah!- Ah-" Karl tried to keep quiet but couldn't help the escaped noises that came out.

You placed your free hand over his mouth to try and muffle his moans, his voice vibrating against your hand "You can never be quiet! Always have something to say, don't you?" you rolled your eyes at him. Karl clenched his eyes shut and tapped the chair repeatedly with his hand to let you know he was ready to cum again, you let him release his load yet again but you didn't remove your hand.

"A-Again?? I can only take so much.." Karl whimpered and whined "You're feeling this way already? But I've only just started!" You frowned "Well I guess I can give you a break now but there won't be any breaks later on when our parents go out to dinner." you stood up and got off him. "T-Thanks.." Karl huffed "For what?" you asked "Thanks for um- pleasuring me?" you scoffed and walked back to your room, ready to return at night time when you had Karl all to yourself.

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*guys lemme know if u want a part 2 bc I could certainly make one of the reader x karl at night time after their parents have left.

#tw stepcest #stepcest cw #karl jacobs x reader smut #karl jacobs smut #c!karl smut #mcyt x reader smut #mcyt smut #dreamsmp x reader smut #dream smp x reader smut #dreamsmp smut #dream smp smut #dsmp x reader smut #dsmp smut

[sergeantxrogers]

| dysthymia |

“I don’t know what to do without you, I don’t know where to put my hands. I’ve been trying to lay my head down but I’m writing this at three AM.”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Just a shit ton of angst and sadness, my dudes, happy ending tho

Note: This is part 2 to the way i see things. Yes, this was partially inspired by Mitski’s Francis Forever, yes, the lyrics are included in a specific part, and no, I don’t regret it. Happy reading xx

____________________

A cool hand rested flat against his back, hot and burning with embarrassed panic. He heard the whisper of his name, the hand lifting slowly to allow its fingertips to run down his spine, then up again. 

The motion distracted him, calmed him, let him open his eyes and suck a deep breath into his aching chest. You shushed him, fingers travelling over the planes of his back, his shoulders, his arms, the nape of his neck, until his breathing slowed.

He shuddered against your touch, goosebumps running after your fingertips, up and down his spine, through his scalp. Turning away from the wall he had been burning a hole into, his blue eyes caught yours as you leaned on your elbow, smiling as you cocked your head at him.

“Better now?”

He nodded. Absentmindedly, he reached his hand out in front of him, aching to touch you, to caress your cheek, place a kiss to your forehead. He reached out, out, out, and you were only getting further away. He frowned, panic resettling in his limbs as they went weak. He called out to you, his rasping voice getting lost somewhere in the heavy air between you. He called, and reached, and his breath quickened, hand grabbing at nothing until he finally-

Bucky awoke with a jolt, a tear tickling his temple as it escaped his eye and rolled into his hairline. Chest heaving up and down as he tried catching his breath, he looked to his right, just like in his dream, expecting to see you staring back with worried eyes and gentle whispers. He was a fool for thinking he would see anything different than the emptiness that’s been there since your accident. 

A damn fool.

With a broken sigh, he wiped his tears away in frustration, the heels of his palms digging into his eye sockets so hard he saw colors. Then again, anything was better than the cold vacancy of his room in your absence.

He rolled over to his side, burying his head deep into the pillow- your pillow- next to his. The smell of your shampoo filled his senses, dizzying him. Faint, and faded, but still there if he concentrated hard enough, so he couldn’t yet bring himself to put it away. Bringing his heavy hand over and around your pillow, he pulled it closer into himself, clinging onto it harshly. Bucky didn’t even notice the tears dampening the cotton pillowcase until he shifted his head and felt the cool wetness on his cheek. 

It was still dark out, but that was no surprise. It had been two weeks since you left the hospital and went back to your house, the home you remembered, and three since the day Bucky’s world crumbled. Every night since then, his mind would trick him into forgetting, into obliviously thinking you were still with him, beside him. Until he woke up, and he felt the dread creep up on him again.

A shaky, tired sigh left his body as he curled up into himself, clutching the pillow in his fist and burying his face into it so hard he couldn’t breathe. 

He didn’t know what time it was when he fell asleep again, but the last thing he heard were birds chirping outside his window.

_____

It was the little things that made it hard for Bucky to breathe: seeing the Minnie Mouse mug you bought when the two of you went to Disney World together sitting in the cabinet right next to his plain black one. Finding one of your missing pink socks when he rummaged through his closet for a shirt. The scattered colored pens under his desk that you used to annotate your books. Even something as trivial as coming across your favorite movie on the TV could make Bucky shut down for the rest of the day. 

Sipping on his bitter coffee, he sat at his kitchen island, staring blankly at the specks of gray in the white granite countertop. His apartment was too quiet these days. He had forgotten what it was like before he would spend his entire days with you: if you weren’t sleeping over, then you were there first thing in the morning to share your morning coffee with Bucky. Now, he didn’t know how he managed to live every day alone in the silence before you, how he didn’t lose his mind a long time ago. 

If you were here now, you would’ve been talking his ear off about some new project your favorite actor was working on, or the brand new lotion you bought because the last one still kept your knuckles rough. A small smile crept its way onto Bucky’s face as he imagined you sitting across from him, full of energy, even that early in the morning. He never even noticed how much you affected him: you rambled on and on while he sat in silence and listened, eyes following your every excited gesture. It was almost like you balanced him out, shining light into his darkness, pulling while he pushed. Without you, his scales were uneven, tipping over until eventually, they’d fall altogether, taking Bucky down with them.

Pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of cars honking outside, Bucky threw a glance at the clock on the stovetop, small, green, digital numbers staring back at him as they blinked 9:23 AM. His heart gripped in on itself at the thought of seeing you again. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you at all. In fact, he saw you every other day, taking a cab all the way to the suburbs, the 40 minute ride always filled with an awkward silence and uncomfortable small talk with the driver. It cost him a lot, more than he’d like to admit, but it was worth it. You were worth it.

You, on the other hand, had no idea of his troubles- of the overpriced trips he took to visit you, or the happy face he would force upon himself before knocking on your front door, or the restriction he needed whenever he felt the urge to touch you, hug you, kiss you.

You also had no idea why he visited you so often. You knew that the two of you were best friends, allegedly, but you always felt something was in the air whenever he came over, like there was something he wasn’t telling you. Nevertheless, you still found yourself looking forward to hearing his knock on your door.

Like right now, as you shot up from your spot at the window as soon as you saw the yellow cab pull up. You made your way down the hallway with a spring in your step, giddy as Bucky’s fist made contact with the polished wood of your front door. He hadn’t even dropped his hand before you opened the door, a wide grin on your face, and you ushered him in, stepping aside.

Bucky smiled quizzically at you.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?”

You smiled slyly, hands behind your back. Shrugging, you avoided his eyes as the two of you walked back to your living room. 

“Nothin’ special,” you answered, trying and failing to hide the grin in your tone.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, stopping dead in his tracks as he tilted his head.

“Y/N... what did you do?”

A suppressed giggle slipped out as you caved, hands held out in front of you in surrender.

“Okay, fine. I biked to the grocery store yesterday. But-!” you shook your head as you saw Bucky open his mouth, “I was safe, I promise!”

Bucky closed his mouth, heaving a sigh through his nose as he stared at you.

“Did you have a helmet on?” he asked softly.

You nodded.

“Knee and arm pads, too?”

Your shoulders slumped, and you rolled your eyes. “I’m not 10, Bucky.”

His brows shot up in disapproval, and he rested his hands on his hips. “You’re not, but that doesn’t mean you have to risk it.”

“That wasn’t a risk, Buck-”

“Yes, it was.”

“No, it wasn’t. A scrape on my knee wouldn’t mean anything, not after all the shit I’ve been through already.”

Bucky fell silent, dropping his head for a moment before lifting his eyes back to you again. “I know. I’m sorry.”

You gave him a small smile and patted his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

“I’m just worried about you, ‘s all.”

“I know, I know.”

Turning to throw himself down on your leather sofa, he noticed you had already pulled up the next episode of The Crown on the TV. You were so excited when you came home from the hospital and asked him to watch it with you, so he agreed.

He hadn’t had the heart to tell you that you already watched it with him months ago. 

_____

“You good, man?”

The question of concern snapped Bucky out of his distant thoughts. He looked up from the speck of dirt he was studying on the ground to see a man holding the door open. One of the residents; Bucky thought he recognized him from the fourth floor, though he couldn’t be sure. 

Clutching his keys in his hand, he gave the man an awkward smile. “Yeah, sorry, just distracted.”

The man nodded to Bucky before leaving as Bucky’s hand shot out to keep the door open. He hadn’t noticed he’d been standing at the front door of his building for a while; too preoccupied with the events of the day to bother putting his key in the lock, turning it, tugging the heavy door open.

He held himself together in the lobby, in the elevator, down the hall, but when he shut his apartment door behind him, he fell apart. Allowing himself to cry was the only thing he felt was healing him: better to feel pain than nothing at all, and long gone were the days of feeling nothing. The Winter Soldier felt nothing, but Bucky wasn’t the Soldier anymore. He was a man, and he deserved to feel. You taught him that. 

His keys slipped out of his grip, clattering to the floor at his feet as his chest tightened. A visceral sob ripped from his throat, his tears already soaking his cheeks before he even noticed them slip out.

Bucky’s legs went weak, and he lowered himself to the ground, bringing his knees to his chest as he dropped his head. He could hear Alpine’s faint meow calling for him but it was almost impossible to hear anything above the roaring in his ears, the crying making him light-headed. He thought back to the lunch you had with him that day, him helping you in the kitchen to make sure you were fine, even though you insisted he didn’t have to baby you all the time. The amount of times he felt the need to hug you tightly while your back was turned, or grab your hand while you stirred the pot and place a kiss to your knuckles, was staggering. 

It was unbearable, the knowledge that you only thought of him as a friend. After everything he had done, after he had been through hell and back, you were the person who saved him. Especially after Steve left, though Bucky couldn’t blame him anymore; it was tiring, holding grudges against dead people.

You never shied away from him, even after knowing everything he had done, everything he used to be. No matter how much Steve, Sam, or his therapist tried, they could never help Bucky the way you did. It was almost like your presence was an oxygen mask, and Bucky was short of breath when you weren’t near him, so he grappled and begged for you when you were in his sights. 

Bucky was never going to be the man he was before the war, before HYDRA, before Thanos. He’d made his peace with that a long time ago, in Romania, in fact. But having you along the way definitely helped him come to terms with the fact that whatever the Soldier did- was not his fault.

He remembered the days just after he got news Steve was gone, when the world was eerily calm after Thanos. The days when he felt like he was living in a well, dark, tall walls surrounding him, up, up, up with no end, and he would stand at the bottom in the cold wetness begging for rescue. And of course, the day he met you, it was like you peaked in over the well’s edge, reaching in a hand to help him out. 

It was Bucky’s turn now. It was his turn to reach down into the damp, echoing well of your mind and pull you out, no matter how long it took. Because he didn’t know if he could make it on his own, not without you. 

He just wished, more than anything, he could crawl back into your mind, underneath your skin, wrap his consciousness around yours and save you. 

_____

Bucky had stopped eating. 

You, of course, didn’t know the direct cause and reason. You only noticed, as the days and weeks passed, that he had been losing weight, the hollows of his cheeks sinking in deep and the bags under his eyes growing dark. You thought it was just something personal going on, and didn’t want to pry. You had no idea he was falling apart at the seams every time he smiled at him. 

Bucky, to his credit, tried. He really did, but he couldn’t seem to stomach anything if you weren’t there with him, which is why he only ate one meal every other day: the one you would have with him when he visited. 

Occasionally, you would catch him staring at you, a sad gleam in his baby blues, but he would snap out of it once he got caught, turning his head to the side and clearing his throat to change the subject.

You cursed yourself for the butterflies in your stomach, threatening to rise up in your throat and spill over your lips whenever his hand brushed yours or he spared you a smile. He was your friend, and it was just wrong. You didn’t want to ruin what seemed like a perfectly good friendship, but you couldn’t shake how comfortable you felt around him. How his laughter and subtle touches felt so familiar to you. 

Bucky was falling into a never-ending pit of despair because of you, but you couldn’t have possibly known that. You wouldn’t ascribe yourself such importance to him, anyways.

You also didn’t know about the letters. 

You didn’t know how Bucky would sit at his desk every Friday night (the very same desk where he still found your pens, sticky notes and hair ties), writing a letter to you. Weekly letters he had started the moment you left the hospital, because he had a sinking feeling like he would forget you too if he didn’t have something to remind him, keep him in check. 

He wrote them by hand, of course. An old man like him, he had no idea how to open a new document on his computer, let alone save a file to keep forever. 

Sometimes, Bucky wished he had someone to show them to. Steve would’ve been ideal. Steve would’ve known what to do, and how to get over it, for lack of a better expression. 

Bucky wished he could show Steve the letters, if only to relieve the pain in his heart and the tears in his eyes a bit whenever he signed one with his name and sealed it in a crisp envelope. 

But Steve was gone. His therapist was definitely not an option; as much as he understood that it was her job, and he appreciated it, Dr. Raynor would have tried convincing him to bring you in too, to “jog your memory”. So he avoided talking about it with her, just as he avoided talking about it with Sam. Sam was close to you too, before the accident, and Bucky knew he had his own problems to take care of, without the added on stress of Bucky’s trauma-dumping on his shoulders. 

In situations like these, where he found himself stuck with no way out and no light at the end of the tunnel, Bucky always talked to you, pleaded at your feet for your help. He couldn’t do that anymore. You were the source of the problem this time, so, he did the best he could with what he had, and wrote you letters.

But, after three months of writing letters, visiting you, going out for friendly lunch with you, all the while secretly begging and praying that you come to your senses, Bucky had finally given up. 

It didn’t look like it was getting any better, and at this point, he was just vying with destiny for something to change.

He wasn’t going to tell you, initially, but that was when he still thought there was a chance you would magically remember his love one day. But he needed to let you go. As much as it hurt him, and as much as he hated it, Bucky knew he was holding on to a false hope that things might change. 

While he sat on the floor of his bedroom, letters sprawled out in front of him, your name written on them in his messy handwriting, he made up his mind.

_____

Nervously wiping down the same spot of your kitchen counter, over and over again, almost polishing a hole into it as you peered out the window waiting for a yellow cab, you felt a twinge of disappointment grow in you.

You threw down the rag and huffed. Bucky was two hours late. It wasn’t a big deal, right? It’s not a big deal, you repeated in your mind, trying to convince yourself that the traffic in the city was just that unpredictable. You couldn’t lie, though, you had grown fond of Bucky and his visits, and the times he would take you out to the city, showing you his favorite bakery, his favorite coffee shop, his favorite restaurant where you met his favorite old man, Mr. Nakajima. 

You sighed heavily, pushing the rejection aside as you left the kitchen. Shoving your feet into a pair of slippers, you decided it would do you no good sitting around and sulking in your house, and instead you walked down the steps of your front porch, and down to the mailbox sitting at the edge of your lawn.

Your neighbor, Mrs. Allen, waved to you from her own front yard, elbow deep in the dirt of her small garden, some type of blue flower in her other hand. She had dirt smudged across her plump, smiling cheeks, the knees of her capris caked by soil and turned green from the grass she was kneeling in. You waved back half-heartedly, giving her a small smile, and your eyes glanced back towards your own yard. 

Mrs. Allen’s constant upkeeping of her garden reminded you to plant a few roses, too, every time you saw it, and the fact always slipped your mind. Maybe next time you go to the city, you’ll convince Bucky to take a look at the flower shop with you.

Your mailbox squeaked when you opened it, and you rarely ever got mail these days, so you were surprised when you saw a pile of letters sitting inside. Your brows furrowed slightly, a confused pout on your lips as you slipped them out, closing the mailbox.

The one on top was blank, save for your name scribbled in black ink in the middle. You took a look at the next one, and it was the same. And the next one, and the one after that. In fact, all 12 letters that you counted looked exactly the same on the outside. 

Somewhere down the street you heard a dog bark, and the sounds of a child yelling its name, followed by a laugh. Somewhere else, the sound of a sprinkler. All of it drowned out as you opened the first letter, careful not to rip it too much, with suspicious curiosity. 

Eyes scanning the writing on the unfolded page, your name at the top, your fingers started to shake, ever so slightly, trembling the piece of paper with them.

My dear Y/N,

You left the hospital this week. 

That was a relief, I was worried you’d be stuck there for a while. I miss you though.

I don’t know what to do without you. I don’t know where to put my hands. I’ve been trying to lay my head down but I’m writing this at three AM. It’s torture, you know, watching you come back into the world you almost left, and come back to everyone except me. I feel like I’m selfish, because sometimes I find myself thinking I’m the only one who deserves you coming back to him. 

I keep looking into your eyes, wondering if you’ll ever remember me. Of course, you remember me, but not in the way that matters. You don’t remember what I meant to you, but that’s fine. I have faith that you’ll come back to me, the doctor just said it would take some time. 

Your last night in the hospital, while you were sleeping, I sat by your bedside, and your nurse brought you your dinner. And I saw the Jell-O on the tray, and I laughed to myself because I know how much you hate orange Jell-O, and you always preferred cherry. But you woke up, and ate every single thing on that tray, including the orange Jell-O. I guess you just forgot how much you hated it. That’s when I realized things really weren’t the same anymore. I love and miss you, you know.

Come back to me, 

Bucky

You hadn’t realized your grip had tightened on the page until you tore your eyes away from his name at the bottom, relaxing your fingers and attempting to smooth out the wrinkles. A cool chill ran through your body despite the warm spring day as you read and reread his words, over and over again. Conflicted. You were conflicted. He loved you? He... missed you? 

Impatient, and in dire need for more answers, you ripped open the second letter, teetering in place still standing by your mailbox.

You swallowed heavily as you skimmed over the second letter, catching glimpses of events told in black ink and heavy font: I remember when Sam took you out on the boat for a whole day and you came back home upset that you smelled like fish - made me run you a bath the minute you stepped foot into our place.

You skipped over a few sentences, to the bottom.

You were so tired that day, doll, and you were heavy as lead when you fell asleep on me but I didn’t move a muscle. There was no place I rather would’ve been.

Your breath quickened as you pictured the scene, almost like a dream fading through fog. 

Your trembling hands grabbed hold of the third letter, dropping the rest of them in the grass, but you didn’t even notice as you tore open the envelope, eyes frantically drinking in the writing.

You begged me to start watching The Crown with you today, and you looked so pretty with your puppy eyes that I just couldn’t say no. Doesn’t matter that we watched it together already. 

Watched it together already.

The words echoed in your mind as the letter slipped from your fingers, floating to the grass below. You felt like your throat was closing up, and you brought a hand up to it as a memory flashed before your eyes, bursts of you and Bucky sitting on a couch together, your head on his chest; him throwing his head back in laughter as you punched his arm; soft breaths leaving your lips as his own trailed across the planes of your neck; wiping his tears away in the dark, pushing his hair back out of his face, whispering sweet nothings into the night.

A stuttering gasp ripped from your throat, and you stumbled when your knees went weak. A hand shot out to grab the mailbox for support, your other hand gripping your throat as tears filled your eyes.

Through the pounding of your heart in your ears, you heard a woman’s voice calling out for you somewhere in the distance, but you were too out of focus, staring at the letters sprawled at your feet.

“Bucky...”

You whispered his name, barely audible to anyone but you, as a soft hand rested on your arm. You looked up, wide-eyed, at Mrs. Allen, with her dirt-caked forehead and concerned eyes. She was saying something, but you couldn’t read her lips, couldn’t hear her, as only one word was running circles through your mind.

“Bucky.”

“What, sweetheart?”

Mrs. Allen’s voice was muffled, worry dripping through even in its muddled state, and you shook your head, tears tickling your jaw as they rolled down faster and harder.

“I need- I need Bucky,” you managed to breathe out, stammering and limbs weak. You lifted your head to look up at her again, blinking away the tears.

“I need him right now-”

_____

The incessant buzzing of his intercom had Bucky resting his glass of water down on his coffee table. He stared at the intercom by his door for a moment, hesitant. He never had visitors, and he hadn’t called anyone over that he knew of, so he had no idea who it could be. The buzzing continued, and he lifted himself from his couch with a grunt. 

Pressing the little button allowing him to hear the person on the other side, he stayed silent, waiting for them to speak first.

What he had expected least of all, and what had his brain turning to mush, was your frantic voice crackling through the speaker.

“Buck- Bucky, oh thank God-”

“Wh-what?”

“Bucky, please, let me in, please, I-” you cried, tears gathering in your eyes again when you heard his voice. You rested your palms flat against the stone wall of the building, head dropped down as you pleaded.

“Please, Bucky, I remember, I-”

You were cut off by an loud buzzing, and a click. The door was unlocked.

You scrambled towards it, fumbling with the handle until you finally managed to pull open the door, all but running through the small lobby. You muttered a frustrated shit when you caught sight of a white paper on the elevator doors: OUT OF SERVICE. Turning your head left and right, you finally saw the sign and arrow for the staircase, and shot towards them. 

Busting through the metal door of the stairwell, you ran up the stairs at breakneck speed, the scuff of your shoes on the tile echoing throughout the empty walls every time you grabbed onto the railing and turned.

Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky was all that was in your mind as you read the floor numbers as you ascended: 2nd floor, 3rd floor, 4th floor. You knew Bucky was on the 8th floor. You just knew it.

You were running out of breath by now, your legs burning, and the only thing keeping you going was the red-hot adrenaline pumping through your veins. You didn’t know if it was the tears blurring your vision, or just the sheer determination to get to his floor that distracted you, but you felt yourself collide with something hard on the 5th floor.

You were stopped dead in your tracks, letting out a grunt, and you would’ve fallen on your ass if two hands hadn’t shot out to grab your waist.

It was a chest. You had hit a chest. And when you lifted your eyes to see who it was, you could’ve sworn you heard, felt and saw all the stars in the universe collide, the planets align, volcanoes erupt, twisters hit as you melted underneath Bucky’s blue eyes, also filled with tears.

“Baby...” he whispered, softly, like he was afraid it was a dream, or a cruel joke.

You burst into tears immediately, arms wrapping themselves around his neck as he tightened his hold on your waist. Burying his face into your neck, you felt it get wet as his tears fell freely, his fingers clutching and grasping onto the back of your shirt.

“Oh my God,” you murmured into his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut. You hiccupped with each heavier breath you took in, and you felt Bucky’s arms shake with how tightly he held onto you: for dear life.

“I thought I lost you forever-”

You shook your head frantically, reaching a hand up to caress the back of his head. “N-never, you could never-”

“I love you.”

“I love you more, I swear I came as fast as I could, I’m so sorry,” you said between sobs, and he let out a shuddering breath.

“I thought you were never coming back to me,” he whimpered into your skin, and that brought on a fresh wave of tears.

“I’m here now, I’m here, my love,” you whispered, grabbing onto his shoulder in an attempt to ground him, and yourself.

Bucky collapsed then, bringing you down with him in the middle of the cold, empty stairwell of his apartment building, where each cry, whisper and word of affection was amplified. 

He rocked you back and forth, side to side, never loosening his grip, and you let him. You let him, because he almost lost you, and you almost lost him without even knowing it.

Back home, each of his letters was stacked neatly on top of each other in a pile, on your bed.

____________________

TAGLIST:

@dreamsley​ @a-ngeli-que​ @mormonprincess​ @agirlinherhead​ @s-katergorl​ @ace-27749​ @leyannrae​ @tailsoflightning​ @acidwidow​ @angelofthorr​ @gallysonegoodlung​ @creatingjana​ @gitasor​ 

#bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #james buchanan barnes #mcu fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #james bucky barnes #james bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #avengers fanfiction #avengers fic

[bakusquad-assemble]

Can I request a Sero x reader/Bakusquad x reader who is dealing with a panic attack after Class 1A deals with yet another villain. Also no rush and I absolutely love your writing!

Aw, thank you so so much! I love being able to write for you! I also love all the love Sero gets on this blog, I’m not sure I do his character justice but damn we love to see it. No warnings on this one, just some sweet comfort and fluff. Hope you enjoy!

The sound of blaring sirens pierced through the night sky, dark and cold save for the flashing red lights that illuminated the students of class 1A. They sat huddled close together, blankets pulled tightly around their shoulders in attempts to bring them some semblance of comfort. It seemed as if your class was a target for misfortune, like the group of students were always in the wrong place at the wrong time. If you were being honest with yourself, the fear of the evil lurking around the corner at any given moment was really starting to get to you. You all somehow managed to escape each attack relatively unscathed, except for a few cuts and bruises that would heal in time, but you were still shaken to your core every time and couldn’t find the strength to keep it down any longer. You’re not quite sure when you started crying, letting the salty tears soak down your blood stained cheeks, but you didn’t even attempt to quell them. You let them consume you, wracking your body with sobs in hopes that it would bring you some solace. Instead you felt your body tremble, your stomach churning with all of the fear that you had kept down for far too long. You slapped your hand over your mouth as you whimpered out involuntarily, in hopes that no one would shift their attention to you.

That hope was shattered almost immediately though as the tall black haired boy who sat next to you straightened his back at attention. He had heard you take in a sharp breath, and upon locking eyes with your form he found his heart dropping in his chest like it was attached to a ton of weights; sinking to the bottom of a treacherous sea with ease. Hanta Sero has had a crush on you for some time now. There was just something about you he found so enticing, like a magnetic force was constantly surrounding you and pulling him in every time he wandered too close. You were best friends, constantly sharing laughs and inside jokes in the hallways at school, or having deep conversations late at night in the dorm common rooms. He cared about you so deeply, and seeing you like this; covered in your own tears and blood and shaking in fear, made him sick to his stomach. He was quick to act, his large hand reaching out for the small of your back to lend you consolation, but when you jumped back from him he quickly pulled away and put his hands up in the most non threatening way he could muster. You hadn’t meant to react like that to Sero’s touch, in fact, you craved his warmth more than ever right now. You wanted nothing more than to be engulfed by his comforting embrace as he whispered his latest horrible joke into your ear- managing to pull a laugh from your salty and cracked lips, but your body was on high alert after tonight. Luckily, Sero understood completely.

“Hey, it’s okay! It’s just me.” He reassured, his hands still up in the air in attempts to show you he meant no harm. He offered a sweet smile, despite feeling that same fear that overtook you, and you felt your body relax ever so slightly. You sniffled, wiping at your eyes with the sleeves of your sweatshirt as the tears continued to spill like rushing waterfalls.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” you choked out, voice barely audible among the commotion that surrounded the two of you, but Sero heard you clear as day. He could see everything he needed to know written in your pinched expression. You were petrified, and he was going to do everything in his power to make you feel better.

“Woah, hey! don’t apologize!” Sero started, cautiously moving his hands down in front of him and reaching out for one of your hands,trying his best to read your expressions as he did so. You didn’t pull away and he delicately wrapped his large hand in your smaller one, his thumb rubbing comforting circles atop your soft skin. He felt his cheeks heat up as he realized he’s never really touched you this intimately before. He tried his best to shake the sensation, and was thankful for the dark night sky for hiding the flush that consumed his features.

“Nothings wrong with you, y/n! I think we’re all a bit shaken up after that and it’s totally normal to be upset.”

The remnants of the dam that you had been holding up broke at Sero’s words, and suddenly you were sobbing uncontrollably and throwing yourself into his arms. The choked noises of anguish gained the attention of some classmates nearby, but you didn’t notice, nor care. You were lost in your own thoughts, in the fear of what could have happened, and the only thing keeping you grounded was Seros arms wrapping tightly around your torso and pulling you in against his chest. He brought the comforting circular motions to your back in efforts to soothe you while he rested his chin comfortably on the top of your head. If you were a bit more aware of your surroundings, perhaps you’d have noticed the way Sero’s heartbeat ran rampant in his chest, or the way his hands got clammy with nerves on your low back, but instead your mind lulled it out.

It was Kaminari’s voice that permeated the air first, though you kept your head situated in Sero’s chest, finding refuge in his closeness.

“Oh man, are they okay?” Kaminari stood awkwardly in front of the two of you, pulling his blanket snuggly over his shoulders to keep it from falling to the ground. Sero’s only response was to pull you in tighter and shake his head. Kaminari sighed out, his voice wavering as if he had just gotten over crying himself. You couldn’t help but look up from the confines of Sero’s chest just a bit, eyebrows pinched up in curiosity.

“Mind if I join you guys? Mineta isn’t exactly the best company in a time like this.” He tried to keep his voice light and playful, shooting your newly emerged face a warm smile. Kaminari didn’t wait for a response,however; instead picking the unoccupied spot next to you and squeezing in tight, enjoying the comfort the closeness brought him.

“Mineta is never good company, Bro. He’s a little scumbag” Sero quipped, sending a smile the electric boy's way. Kaminari chuckled, shrugging defeatedly.

“Hey! he can be funny sometimes!”

“I think that makes you a little scumbag too, dude. ”

You felt your throat stutter as you let out a breathy laugh. It came out choked and water logged, but it was a sweet little laugh nonetheless. Both of their expressions lit up, looking at each other before moving their eyes down to you, shocked by the sweet sound escaping your lips. Sero smiled widely, pulling you in just a bit tighter as he felt your shoulders get lighter. These boys always knew how to pull it out of you, and despite the fear still bubbling deep inside, their playful banter had you feeling kind of normal again.

“Woah, hey! Why didn’t we get an invite to the “we almost died but we didn’t and we still kickin it somehow” snuggle fest? Move over! I need some!” Minas voice was perky per usual, but even you could detect the hints of worry laced between each syllable. She was just able to use her personality to hide it well, something you had never been more envious of than right now. You straightened your back, pulling away from Sero to get a better view of the rest of your friends approaching. You tried your best to wipe your face free of any remnants of your breakdown, though seemingly impossible with the current state you were in. Mina was pulling Kirishima along behind her by the hand, keeping him close for comfort reasons you figured, and a certain scowling blonde wasn’t too far behind. It was as if he was tethered to the redhead, following against his will and dissatisfied with his new change of scenery, yet he continued to follow with a pout and his arms crossed heavily over his chest. After knowing bakugou for so long, though. His demeanor didn’t shake you, nor did his booming tone as he spoke up above the noise.

“The hell you all whining for? Some hero’s you are for being afraid of some lowlife discount villains that couldn’t even kill a bunch of high schoolers!” Kirishima nudged Bakugou hard, causing him to shoot the red haired boy an evil glare. It didn’t shake Kirishima though, he just shook his head at his blonde best friend.

“Read the room, Bakubro. We’re all kinda messed up about it. Even the manliest people get scared sometimes, you should know. ” Bakugou clicked his tongue in frustration, dropping onto the ground with a thud and pulling his knee up to rest his arm on it.

“I’d never be scared by some shitty ass villains and neither should you! They didn’t stand a chance against us! You’re all alive so stop complaining” Bakugou had locked eyes with you, and deep down you knew this was his makeshift way of trying to cheer you up. His way to remind you how strong you were, despite the tears and snot that ran down your face. You nodded softly to him, a faint smile ghosting your lips, and he quickly averted his gaze to anywhere but you. Mumbling something under his breath that you couldn’t quite make out but appreciated nonetheless. You watched Kirishima take a spot of the ground near Kaminari, and Mina dropped to her knees in front of you, her eyes welling with the same tears that plagued yours. Her smile was gentle, caring, and it made you feel safe. Safe despite everything that had happened to all of you just a few hours earlier. In fact, just being surrounded by your friends filled you with a sense of comfort that you didn’t expect yourself to find. You weren’t sure if it was simply their presence, or if it was the puffy eyes and wordless smiles of understanding that laid hidden on their expressions.

“You alright, baby?” Mina asked, her soft and well manicured hands coming to rest on your soaked cheeks. And despite it all, you nodded. The tiny smile still ever present on your face. Because for the first time tonight, you were reminded that no matter how hard things get, no matter how many villains tried to tear you down, you would always have your friends to pick you back up- to put a smile on your face with ease when you felt just minutes prior that you may never smile again. You could never thank them enough.

“Yeah, I will be.”

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