#and i cant do anything about it but just sit here with my heart ripped out of my chest

[quintinh43]

Heavy Heads and Heavy Hearts | Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn gets injured as a game. His girlfriend takes him and cares for him.

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, Head injury, food, angst, mentions of vomiting (no actual vomiting)

Notes: Hi guyss! Hope everyone is doing ok! Injured Quinn got the most votes, so here we are! This one is the longest one ive done so far, I definitely did not mean for it to be as long as it is but here we are. Also, im not a professionl in any way, so i cant say this is concussion accurate. I just went off of my experience in dealing with athletes that have Concussions, and my own Concussions lol. Anywaysss I hope yall enjoy. Love Soph.

---

There was something so gut-wrenching about watching the man you love get injured. One second, Quinn was cutting quickly around the back of the net, and the next, he was getting slammed into the boards hard. It was nothing. You get hit, you get up, and you keep going. It was simply a part of hockey.

Except this time, Quinn wasn't getting up. He wasn't moving at all. You stand up, heart in your throat. The room feels like it's tilting. The sharp shrill of the refs whistle cut through the air, stopping the play as the refs skate over to where Quinn is lying motionless on the ice.

They are calling for medics. Your head is spinning with the worst possible scenarios as you excuse yourself from your seat and practically sprint to the locker room. One of the security members holds out a hand to stop you.

"Ma'am, you can't be here, please exit this area"

Great. Just fucking great. This is exactly what you need right now. The overwhelming need that aches in your bones demanding to know that Quinn is ok makes you want to cry. Because now this fucker won't let you through. And you're nearly too panicked to do anything about it.

The logical route would be pulling out Quinns wallet, that has his ID in it, and explaining that you are his girlfriend. But with your anxiety high, and your heart in your throat logic is not the first thing on your mind.

"Listen buddy," you start, ready to absolutely rip this guy a new one. Thankfully for him, one of the trainers who knows you happens to be exiting the locker room.

"Let her through, Jace, that's Hughes' girl" he says, waving you forward. The security guard- Jace apparently, lets you pass with a grumble.

By the time you get rink side, Quinn is (half) conscious- thank God, and being half carried off the ice by Petey and Boeser. He's transfered to the care of two medics, who sit him on a bench and begin to check him over.

One of them is asking him questions gently, both to keep him awake and assess the damage to his head. While the other stabilizes his neck. "Can you tell me your full name and today's date?" One of the medics asks.

"Quintin Jerome Hughes," he slurs, eyes fluttering, "its Feb'uary... twenty-second, twenty-twenty-four"

Your breath hitches. He got the date wrong. You can't help the panic that rushes through you. "Good job Quinn, do you know where you are?"

"Van, Roger's arena," he mumbles, "playing hockey"

"Good," the medic hums. "we need to take off your equipment to make sure you aren't injured anywhere else. Is that ok?"

"Y/n" he mumbles, eyes closing and head tilting forward, his head snapped back up a moment later, and if the other medic hadn't had his head stabilized he would probably have mild whiplash.

"Stay awake for us, Quinn. Is Y/n someone you'd like us to call?"

You spring forward at the mention of your name, "I'm here," you say, pushing past a couple of people who are standing around, ready to assist if the situation gets worse.

"My girl" Quinn slurs, his lips tilting into a small smile. Your heart flutters at that. In the midst of his delirium, he still cares about you dearly.

"Hello Y/n, I'm Sam," the guy who's been asking him questions, "and that's Kieran," he says, nudging his head towards Kieran, who gives a small smile.

"Do you think you could help us remove his equipment?"

"Yes absolutely, just tell me what to do" you say, glad that you can help.

"Can you remove his jersey and shoulder pads? Kieran needs to keep his neck stable, and I need to check for any other possible injuries. And keep him talking"

"Yeah, of course," you start by bending his elbow to slide it out of the sleeve of his jersey.

"Hey Quinny" you say softly, sliding his other arm out of his jersey "you played really really good today, I'm so proud of you"

"Thanks baby," he murmers, "glad you're here." He tries to lean his head against your chest, he huffs when Kieran doesn't let him, and you can't help but let out a breathy laugh, patting his head lovingly.

Kieran tilts his head to one side, allowing you to pull the jersey over his head. You deposit it in his cubby behind him and make quick work undoing his shoulder pads and pulling them off gently.

"I'm glad I'm here too. What do you wanna eat when we get home?"

Sam gently asks you to move out of the way so he can check Quinns upper body for injuries. The second you aren't doing something, the anxiety rises back to your chest. You take a deep breath and begin to unlace his skates. You pull them off, slipping a pair of slides on his feet so his socks don't get wet.

"Hmm" he hums in thought "potatos...?"

You laugh, "Alright Quinny. We'll have potatos"

Finally after palpating his whole body to make sure he doesn't have any other major injuries, testing his reflexes, and asking him a bunch more questions. They diagnose him with a minor concussion, and give you a list of things to look out for.

They deem it safe enough to leave you alone with him for a little bit and tell you to change him into something more comfortable. It takes a bit of work to take off his hockey pants and shinguards and get him into a pair of sweats and a hoodie.

By the time you're done, the equipment manager and the medics have collected the rest of his equipment. After making sure his hockey bag is fully packed with everything, you grab his keys from your purse, while the EM helps you bring his bag to his car, and the medic helps you half carry him down.

He can mostly walk on his own, but better safe than sorry. On the ride home he keeps his head resting against the window, a cool compress is wrapped around his neck, and he's holding one over his eyes with one hand, while the other holds yours tightly.

You trace your thumb over the backs of his knuckles soothingly and keep him talking the whole way home. "What kind of potatoes do you want when we get home, Hon?"

"Can I change my mind?" He asks sheepishly. He's still talking very quietly and slurring his words a little, but the medics said that was nothing to worry about unless he started getting worse. So far, it was nothing to worry about.

"Of course my love, anything you want" you bring your intertwined hands to rest on your chest. It's a comforting weight over your heart, that you didn't know you needed until it was there.

Your phone lights up from the cup holder, it's a text from Petey, saying that the Canucks won the game. There are a few other texts, from his parents and brothers. You make a mental note to reply to them as soon as you get Quinn settled at home.

"Can we have noodles?" He mumbles.

"Yes, of course, love." You can't help but kiss the back of his knuckles. Watching Quinn get injured to the point of losing consciousness was not something you ever wanted to experience ever again.

"Your boys won, by the way," you say softly.

"The did?!" Quinns head shoots up front the window, and he is filled with instant regret as a sharp twinge shoots down his neck and to his shoulder.

"Ow fuck" he mumbles, laying his head back against the cool window.

"Careful love," you gasp, squeezing his hand.

"I know, I'm sorry," he mumbles, squeezing your hand back. You sigh, you have been on edge since he got injured, and it didn't look like the anxiety would dissipate for a while. You would just have to deal with it and try not to be an over bearing worry wart.

"You guys won 5-2" you smile, finally pulling into your apartment parking lot.

"I didn't do much except get my brains knocked around" he grumbles. "Some captain I am"

You scoff, flicking him in the nose lightly. "Don't sell yourself short, Quinny. Three of those points are yours."

Quinn wrinkles his nose and leans forward to bite your finger. You yelp, snatching it away with a glare. He sticks his tongue out at you, and you laugh, your chest feeling a little lighter than before.

"Come on, let's get you upstairs. " You say, undoing your seat belt and getting out of the car. You run around to his passenger side and open the door for him, and help him step out of the car. He throws an arm over your shoulder, and you wrap one around his waist. He's not as wobbly on his feet as he was earlier, but he still isn't at full strength.

Quinn squeezes his eyes shut and tucks his face against your hair. The florescent elevator lights were not pleasant in his state. "Can we keep the apartment lights off?" He mumbles against your hair.

"Sure love," you said rubbing your hand up and down his back soothingly, "we're almost home," you fish the keys out of your purse and unlock it. You toe your shoes off at the door while Quinn slips his off easily and you guide him to the couch.

"What do you want first, baby? Food or a shower?"

"I'm not really hungry" Quinn mumbles, laying on the couch and adjusting the ice pack under his neck. You sit on the couch handle, stroking his hair back from his forehead. "I know honey, but we should try to get something light in your system, if you're feeling upto it."

Quinn sighs. He knows you're right. "I can make you toast? Or a sandwich or something?" You offer, smoothing your thumb over his hairline.

"Do we have bagles?" He asks

"Yeah, we have bagles, I'll make you one of those?"

"Yes please," he mumbles, you plant a kiss on his forehead and go pop a bagle into the toaster, "can you do it with cream cheese and jam?" He asks, chewing on his lip nervously.

"Sure, Hon, I'm gonna make myself some tea. Do you want a cup?" You ask as you pull the cream cheese and jam out of the fridge.

"No thanks, I'm ok" he mumbles. After his bagle is done being made, you help ease him into sitting position, and sit next to him with your cup of tea. He eats a bit more than half the bagle, and you finish off the rest before deeming it time to shower.

You remember all the messages from his family, and quickly shoot them texts, saying that he's ok and you just got home and you'll talk more when he gets settled.

"I'm gonna put these back in the freezer while we shower, yeah?"

Quinn nods, handing the ice packs to you to put in the freezer. You help him up slowly and lead him to the bathroom. You keep the lights off and leave the door open so you have a little bit of light from the bedroom.

While the shower warms up, you grab a clean change  of clothes for both you and Quinn and set them on the counter before helping Quinn strip. He has to brace an arm against the wall while you hold him steady with one hand and maneuver his clothes off with the other.

"I'm sorry," he murmers against your hair as you help him step into the shower.

"Oh Quinn, there's nothing to be sorry for," you say, sitting him on the shower seat.

"I'm sorry you have to take care of me like this." He huffs, resting his head against the cool Ike of the shower wall, "I feel so pathetic, " his voice cracks, and your heart nearly breaks.

"Quinn, my love, taking care of you is not a burden. It's a pleasure. I love you to the ends of the earth, and I would do anything for you, my sweets. " You kiss him on the forehead sweetly as if to prove your point.

He doesn't say much about it after that, but you can tell he still feels bad. You make quick work of washing his hair, being very careful of where a small bump has formed on his head. You scrub him down and rinse him off before shutting off the water.

You wrap a towel around yourself and then dry Quinn off gently before helping him change into his pajamas. "Let me change and then dry your hair a little bit before we have to put an ice pack on your head, ok?"

Quinn nods. He sits on the counter, leaning against the wall while you change into your pajamas. You plug in the hair dryer and dry his hair, keeping his head steady with one hand. As soon as his hair is no longer soaking wet, you help him off the bathroom counter and into bed. You grab the ice packs from the freezer and help him position them on his head and neck until he's comfortable.

"I'll be back in less than ten minutes, baby. I'm just going to grab your stuff from the car, ok?" You say pulling on a pair of sweats and a hoodie over your pajamas.

"Ok" Quinn mumbles, "I'll call if anything" he says patting his nightstand to make sure his phone is there.

You kiss him on the forehead and pull the bedroom door halfway closed so the light from the hall isn't too bright. Grabbing his car keys and your phone from the counter, you hit the call button on Ellen's contact as you slip out the door.

She picks up on the first ring "Hows he doing?" She asks immediately. She sounds distressed, maybe like she's been crying. You don't blame her. They probably haven't heard anything unless someone on the team contacted them, and you have no idea how bad it looked on TV.

"He's ok, Mrs. H, it's a mild concussion. His symptoms aren't worsening at all, and they said with some rest he'll be significantly better by tomorrow"

Her sigh of relief was unmatched. "He'll be out of play for a couple of weeks, but they just want to make sure he's back to 100% before he's playing again." The elevator finally opens, and you hit the button for the parking garage.

"Thank you so much, Y/n, im glad you're there with him. I know he's in good hands. I'll leave you be love, Jack and luke are super super anxious and would appreciate a call from you. Text me if anything happens."

"I will, Mrs. H, tell Mr. H I say hi"

"I will dear, thanks for taking care of our boy"

"Of course El, he's my boy too," you smile.

You swear you can hear Ellen smile over the phone. "We love you dear, I'll talk to you tomorrow ok. Don't forget to take care of yourself too"

"I will, I love you guys too. I'll text you updates"

"Alright, bye dear."

"Bye," you sigh, pressing the end call button, just as the elevator opens to the parking garage. As you press the button to open the trunk, you call Jack.

"Y/n,"  he huffs out, not even after a full ring. "How's Quinn? If he ok? What happened?"  Before you can answer any of Jacks questions, Luke's voice cuts him off, "is Quinn ok? Are you guys at the hospital? It looked really bad -"

Before their panicked tangents can get worse, you interrupt them both. "Take a breath, you two," you say calmly, breathing exaggeratedly so they can copy you "in and out, relax. Quinn is ok. He's ok"

"He's ok?"

"He's ok" you repeat. You feel the tears start to build, and your voice cracks "He's ok"

"Oh Y/n." Jack says softly.

"It's ok, I'm ok" you say, more to yourself than to Jack as you wipe the tears away. "Hold on, gimme one sec." You say, setting down your phone as you pull Quinn's hockey bag out the car. You close the trunk, make sure the car is locked and head back to the elevator.

"Hi, sorry I'm back. I was just grabbing Quinn's stuff out the car."

"Can you tell us what happened?"  Luke asks softly.

"He's got a concussion, and he's a bit bruised up, but other than that he's alright"

"Fuck, how bad is it?" Jack asks, the fear is evident in his voice, and you can't blame him. Concussions can be really bad sometimes.

"They said its a mild concussion, he's not throwing up at all, his memory is ok, he didn't injure his spine or anything, he'll be ok after a few days of rest. He probably wont be playing for a few weeks, but better safe than sorry."

"Oh thank God"  both Jack and Luke huffed "isn't he not supposed to sleep for 24 hours after or something?" Luke asks.

You shake your head with a small smile "Thats a myth, Lukey. As long as I check on him every few hours its ok for him to sleep."

"Ohh, ok. Well that's good" Luke says.

"We are glad he has you Y/n, thank you for taking care of our brother."

"Always" you say softly.

"We'll let you go now, keep us updated?"

"I will, Jackie. You two get some rest, you have a big game tomorrow, love you guys"

"We love you too Y/n/n" both boys say, hanging up.

You sigh, leaving his bag at the door. "Y/n?" Quinns weak voice calls out from the bedroom. You rush to him immediately, scared that something is wrong.

"Yes, Quinny, I'm right here" you say kneeling beside the bed, and stroking his hair.

"You took long," he mumbles, pressing his lips against your wrist.

"I'm sorry love, I'm here now," you stand, stripping the hoodie and sweats off and climbing into bed next to him. You stay a little distance away, not wanting to hurt Quinn. But he grumbles at you, tugging on your shirt to get you to come closer. Normally, he would just grab you and pull you closer, but he's still weak.

"I don't wanna hurt you" you mumble, scooting closer so that you are tucked against his side. He tangles your legs together and rests his head against yours.

"Never" he says, pressing his lips to the side of your head. You rest one of your hands on his hip, under his shirt, stroking your thumb over his hip bone.

"How you feeling?" You ask softly.

"Beat" he mumbles "thanks for taking care of me"

"I'll take care of you for as long as you let me love" you say, pressing a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"Forever?"

"Forever."

---

Wc: 3.1k

#qh43 #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #luke hughes #vancover canucks #jack hughes #hockey #nhl x y/n #nhl x you #nhl imagines #love soph

[corpsebasil]

Could you do a Nikolai x reader one, where there's a lot of pinning and in the rain confession in the end ?

Ohhhhh yes

Just Stay -> Nikolaiiiiii

summary: when you and Nikolai break up, you don’t want to spoil the reunion in Kerch with each other’s bullshit

He’d made you swear not to say anything, and you’d agreed.

You’d practically thrown yourself into Alina’s arms when you saw her; she’d grown even more beautiful since you last saw the girl and Mal, at her side, even more rugged somehow.

“The treasure of my heart!” She cooed, pinching your cheek as Mal gave you a one armed hug like he would a sister.

“You look good Y/N. Nice to see you. Now where’s…” Mal trailed off and sprinted, leaping onto Nikolai so fast the two men toppled to the floor.

You laughed at the sight and tried to ignore the twinge that went through you at the sight. The four of you had always been close. Always. Alina nudged you and raised a brow.

“Those two will never stop being brothers.” She giggled, tugging you along. “Come on. The Crows are here. They’re dying to see you!”

You followed, watching as Nikolai pushed himself to his feet on the docks, laughing as he dusted dirt off his pants. Then his eyes slid to yours and his smiled tightened. You forced yourself to extract yourself from Alina, mumbling about ‘you know how fiancés are’ and moving to Nikolai’s side.

“Sweetheart.” You greeted him, and Mal winked at him before chasing after Alina.

“Darling.” He smiled politely, tone completely lacking any sign of tension.

“Need help with your bag?” You offered, tilting your head with a smirk as he looked you up and down. “Princely muscles are so delicate.”

He raised a brow and flexed his arm, giving you a perfect view of the corded golden skin. Saints, his arms had gotten even bigger since you’d last seen him. You’d tried not to ogle him the entire ship ride to Kerch, and your face had reddened when he caught your glances.

It had been six months. Six months since he’d come to your rooms and told you it was over. No explanation. Nothing. Just a calm, ‘I’m sorry, but I cant marry you’ and he left. After spending the entire night in utter numbness, unable to even summon a tear through your shock, you sought out the prince. It was an arranged marriage, sure, but you two loved each other. You shared stories, kisses, beds—you loved him. Desperately. And when you knocked on his door, he was gone.

He was gone, and the staff said they didn’t know when he’d be back or where he’d went. So you’d packed your bags and went back to Fjerda that same morning.

“Try not to pop a vein.” You told him, raising a brow at his flex. He smiled coyly and rolled his eyes, taking a step forward.

“I hear princesses are delicate too. How are those dainty fingers of yours doing, Love?” He took your hands in his, his, warm, calloused thumbs running over your palms as if to test the smoothness, and you fought every instinct to rip away. Especially when his hands turned your own over, both of you looking at the Lantsov ring resting where it had used to sit before. “Your hands are just as soft as I remember.” He chuckled weakly, blue eyes finding your own.

Your smile faltered and you pulled your hands back slowly, feigning wiping something off your bodice as you turned away. The ring was still heavy. The guards had taken it from you after you and Nikolai had split, not allowing you to take it off Palace grounds. As if you wanted the damn reminder anyways.

“We should catch up with them.” You said, not looking back as you followed Alina and Mal.

-

“Fucking hell.” You mumbled, dropping your bag on the floor as you entered the room at the Inn that Alina had arranged for you. Nikolai didn’t seem any more pleased than you, grumbling something as he dumped his bag on the floor beside yours.

“Left or right side?”

“You think I wanna share a bed with you?”

He paused. “What if one of the group comes in during the middle of the night?”

“For what? Why could they possibly have a reason to come in?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. A fire drill?”

You cursed and dropped onto the bed, splaying out as you shut your eyes. You had a pounding headache—had since you’d seen him again—and the proximity was making it worse. That mint smell of him along with his expensive cologne and, underneath that, the scent that was his alone? It was making you dizzy.

“How long do we have to keep this up?” You asked, flinging your arms above your head. Your fingers brushed his thighs and you jerked them away, looking up at him with a glare. He was acting innocent, whistling a tune as if he wasn’t just leaning his entire bottom half over you to snatch up a pillow. “And keep your junk out of my face.”

“Never had an issue with it befor—hey!” He exclaimed when you whacked him with the nearest pillow, and hard. “Calm down! I’m just messing with you.” At your icy glare his expression sobered, and he sat on the bed next to your head. “We pretend—I mean, they’ve wanted to see us together for so long—until we leave, I guess. Or we stage a fight believable enough that they think we would’ve broken up.”

“Why’d you emphasize it?”

“What?”

“You said ‘we’ in a weird way. Like us breaking up was impossible.” You sat up on an elbow, eyes searching his face. “We did break up, Nik, remember?” Your chest tightened, and you tried to force away the memories that rose.

Like the way you still reached for his side of your bed sometimes when you woke up, or when you had a nightmare, your mind too slow to remember you weren’t in Ravka.

Or the way you’d stolen one of his shirts and slept with it for a week straight before a maid saw it in your dirty clothes and washed it. You’d struck her for it and immediately regretted it, but the agony of not having his scent anymore made you drop to your knees and sob.

How you hardly ate—hardly slept—for two months without him.

And then there was when you’d heard rumors of him courting someone else in Ravka. A different princess perhaps, or a lady. That news had holed you up in your room for a week.

It killed you that he seemed to be completely happy and unbothered by your reunion. As if he hadn’t broken your heart into a million pieces and left you alone without so much as an explanation. You stared at him now, watching his expression change from seriousness to shame, and you turned your head away.

“You can come up with the plan.” You mumbled, climbing out of the bed and stepping to the floor. His silence was as heavy as a blanket over your shoulders, suffocating you. “I’m tired of reliving our breakup every day of my fucking life.”

You heard a small strangled sound come from his throat but you didn’t turn around, not when you shut the door behind you.

-

That night, you met up with Alina, Mal, and Nina at the Crow Club, Inej, Jesper, and Kaz busy doing god knows what. You found yourself seated in a crowded booth next to Nikolai, one leg slung over his thigh, his arm around your shoulders.

The pose was so familiar, one you’d done a hundred times, and maybe it was the muscle memory of it that made you ache so much. Neither of you had spoken on the way to the Club; you because you had absolutely no desire to talk to him ever again if unnecessary; him because his head was so full of grief over your words it was eating him alive.

I’m tired of reliving our breakup every day of my fucking life.

What was he even supposed to say to that?

He was watching you now, his smile wide and relaxed as his thumb ran small circles against your shoulder-blade. The others couldn’t see but it didn’t matter. He’d been craving your skin, your smell, all of you since he’d left, and now that he had you in his arms again, at least for the next two days, he was going to soak in every second of it.

“When’s the wedding?” Nina asked, popping an olive into her mouth as she wiggled her eyebrows. If she heard the way the two of you’s heart rates picked up, she chalked it up to excitement.

“We haven’t picked—” You started, just as Nikolai said, “Working on a venue.” The two of you glanced at one another, eyes snapping like electric cords before looking back to Nina. You dug your sharp nails into his thigh as he bit back a groan. “It’s still early days.”

“Early days?” Alina scoffed, raising her dark brows. “It’s been…what, three years now? Rather long for a royal engagement.” She laughed. No one in the group usually mentioned the fact that the both of you were royals, and the reminder sometimes stung. “Mal and I have been engaged for like two months and we’re getting married within the next few weeks.” Then she gasped, reaching out to take your hand. “You have to be a bridesmaid! Please please pleaaaase?”

She’d already asked you in her letter, the one she’d sent to Nikolai, addressed to the both of you. He’d sent a copy to Fjerda, along with his plea for the both of you to play nice and see Alina so there was no confusion about your relationship before her special day.

“I’ll try my best.” You said, smiling tightly as you squeezed her hand. Nikolai had already agreed to be Mal’s best man but to be honest? You wouldn’t be attending that wedding. You couldn’t stomach it.

“Oh please please come on!”

“Alina.” Nina mumbled, shooting the girl a look, and Alina raised a brow.

“What?”

“Let her breathe. She’s travelled a long way.” The Heartrender said, smiling as she slid all-too-knowing eyes to yours. You looked away, hoping she couldn’t see the pain in your eyes as you pressed your cheek against Nikolai’s shoulder, breathing him in.

The others began discussing wedding preparations when Nikolai’s fingers began to run across the nape of your neck, threading through your hair. When you looped you arms around his waist as if to snuggle him, you were surprised to see goosebumps jump up on the skin of his arm. And then you were surprised to hear his slight intake of breath, his hand that wasn’t on your neck moving under the table to touch your knee.

You swallowed.

“What do you think, Nik?” Mal asked, and the prince blinked quickly.

“Hmm?”

“About going on the Volkvolny. For the honeymoon?”

“Oh.” Nikolai’s brows knit. “You and Alina or—?”

“Duh.” Alina laughed, but she looked confused. “Aren’t you listening?”

“Of course, sorry. That sounds great.”

“Thank you.” Mal told him with a genuine smile, and then your breath caught when his hand pushed the hem of your dress up, only far enough to slide against the smooth skin of your knee.

You missed his touch. God you missed it, but… You moved away from him and stood, giving the others a sorrowful look that was easy not to fake.

“I’m feeling sick, guys. I’m sorry.” You said, a hand on your stomach. You were queasy, actually. “I’m gonna go to the Inn. See you for breakfast?”

“Yeah..” Alina smiled faintly, but it dropped when you left, headed out into the night sky.

You’d barely been ten seconds out the door before Nikolai sprinted after you, grabbing your hand. You ripped it away and whirled to him, holding your hands up in a placating gesture. He was breathing a bit heavily, eyebrows furrowed as he watched you.

“What is it?” He asked, scanning you with his eyes. “Are you sick? Do you need to puke or—”

“Just go inside, Nikolai. I just want to go to bed, okay?”

“Alina was excited to talk to you about the wedding. She has all these plans and—”

”I’m not going to the wedding.” You snapped, staring at him like he was crazy person. “I’ll be in Fjerda by then. I have a life now, Nik.”

He swallowed.

“But she’s your friend. Your best friend.”

“She used to be my best friend.” You argued. “She hasn’t seen me since—” you paused. “It doesn’t matter.” You turned and he once again jumped in front of you, halting your tracks.

“What do you mean used to?”

God did you have to spell it out for him?

“My friends are your friends.” You said, shaking your head. “When you broke off the engagement you effectively cut me off from all of my existing friendships. Cant you see that?”

“Oh.” He said dumbly and you pushed past him again. He still trailed after you though. “But cant you try to make it?” He asked, even as you gritted your teeth. “It’s a special day for her and—”

“And what?” You were stunned by the sharpness by your tone, more so by the sound of a barely suppressed sob in your throat. Nikolai looked alarmed as well. “And watch you stand up beside an altar? All while I’m sitting there, picturing me beside you? I—” you covered your hand with your mouth and turned away, shaking your head. “No. I’m not going to the wedding with you, Nikolai. I’m not going to go anywhere near a wedding with you, ever.”

“You cannot mean that.”

“Then read my lips.” You turned, glaring fiercely, barely a foot from the prince. “I’d. Rather. Die.”

This time he didn’t follow, not as you hurried back to the Inn, eager to go to sleep. You’d leave in the morning, you decided. And as you curled up in the cold bed, empty and vast around you, you fell asleep the way you usually did, counting down, imagining it was his arms hugging you to sleep instead of your own.

-

You jolted awake around four in the morning to a warm body pressed to your back. At first you thought you were dreaming, but no. Nikolai’s soft breaths stirred the hair at the back of your neck, his face buried in your shoulder as he slept. His arm was looped around your waist, hoping you tight against him. You were tense but then, against better judgement, relaxed into his hold.

It’d been so long. Long enough for you to pretend, at least for one sleepy moment, that this was real. That he still loved you. That he still… still…

You woke again, eyes snapping open to see light in the windows. You heard a groan and tensed up again. Nikolai’s legs had become tangled with yours, your head resting on his bicep as both his arms wrapped around you. You had no idea how you’d gotten like that but it felt so good, you didn’t dare move.

“Y/N…” Nikolai mumbled against your neck and you waited for him to tense up. To pull away. Instead, he pressed a kiss against your bare shoulder, revealed by your nightgown, and you got chills, your stomach twisting. “Missed this..missed…you.”

“You’re just half asleep.” You argued, voice a faint whisper. You heard an incoherent mumble and felt a slow nod that made you frown.

“Didn’t want to go…” he moaned, holding you closer, “…made…me..” and then a soft snore left him, and your eyes were so wide you didn’t know what to do or think.

“Nik?” You asked, heart hammering, but he was fast asleep. “Nik?”

You laid for a moment, mind whirling, before you sat up. You shook him roughly, pushing his arms off of you, and he groaned as he rubbed his eyes.

“My love.” He grumbled, still half asleep. “It’s early.”

“Don’t call me—“ you paused, exasperated. “What the fuck were you saying? Who made you? Made you do what?”

This time his eyes opened, reality sinking visibly into his expression as he sat up, his sleepy face growing hard. He shook his head quickly, slinging his legs over the side of the bed.

“Nothing. I was dreaming.”

“But you…” You swallowed. “Don’t lie to me. I know when you’re lying.”

“I’m taking a shower.” He mumbled, pulling away when you touched his arm, and you watched him pad sleepily into the bathroom, his shoulders stiff.

Afterwards, after waiting in tense silence for almost twenty minutes, he slunk out of the bathroom, blue eyes meeting yours. His chest was bare and—and—

“What the—” You stood up quickly, moving forward. Your eyes drank in the skin of him, yes, but they lingered on the scar on his shoulder. A fresh, still pink scar, slightly raised. A bullet wound. “When did this happen?” You breathed, eyes meeting his own. Searching.

He swallowed.

“I um..” he trailed off, looking away from you with a look of shame on his face. “I cant talk about it.”

“Nikolai.”

“Im not allowed, Y/N, okay? It’s not important.” He moved past you to grab a shirt, getting dressed quickly. You didn’t look lower than his waistline as he dropped the towel, tugging trousers up his hips. “Let’s just meet up with Alina and Mal, alright? I don’t want to cause drama for them.”

“For them?” You stared at his back, tense even through the fabric. “You got shot and you don’t want to cause drama for them?” Your throat grew tight. “What about me?”

“This isn’t about you.”

“Then what is it about, Nikolai? Because the last time I saw you, you certainly hadn’t had that—”

“Just leave it, Y/N.” He snapped, voice sharper than you’d ever heard it. You hated the immediate well of tears that rose in your eyes at his tone; never ever had he ever spoken to you even slightly rudely. Never.

“Fine.” You sniffed and turned on your heel, slamming the bathroom door shut behind you.

-

You didn’t go to breakfast.

You refused, adamantly, to be in the same room as him if he wasn’t going to start telling the truth. He was annoyed at first, telling you it was only for a day more, and then pissed, accusing you of being dramatic, and finally, finally he was pleading with you.

“Y/N.” He groaned, following you as you stormed out of the Inn, bag in hand as you walked through the drizzling rain towards the docks. “It’s raining. Go back inside.” You ignored him and he moved quicker to cut you off, his expression pinched. “Please. Just stay with me. Come inside.”

“Stay with you?” Your laugh was so cruel he flinched. “After all your lies and mind games? No. I’m done with you. I never should have come here.”

“Please.” He begged again, reaching out to touch your arms, then stopped himself. “Please. Just—it’s just another day with me, okay?”

“Why did you ask me to come, Nik?” You demanded, angry and hurt. You were exhausted, above all else. “Why couldn’t you have just left me alone? Told the others it didn’t work out?”

“Because.” He was breathing heavily, staring down at you as rain ran down across the curve of his cheekbone and jaw. “I couldn’t—I couldn’t tell them.”

“Why?” You asked, and when he didn’t answer, you nodded. “Of course. More of you not answering me—”

“I wanted to see you.” He blurt out, expression pinched. “I wanted—“ he stopped, shaking his head. “I wanted to see you again. I couldn’t let myself let you go.”

“You have to.” You told him, but there was a pleading note in your own voice as well. “I cant—I cant keep loving you. You have to stop this.”

“I cant.”

“Well then you never should’ve left me!”

“They made me!” He snapped, moving closer. “I’m a solider, Y/N! And when the border skirmishes got worse they were losing soldiers every day.” At your confused look he continued, looking like a man with words threatening to explode from him. “I had no choice. I had to go fight.”

“Then why—”

“Because I couldn’t marry you and leave you alone.” He forced out, his voice dragging over a lump in his throat. “I couldn’t—” he choked and looked away, rubbing his eyes. “If I’d have died and you were left alone, I…I couldn’t let that happen. So I cut you loose.”

You stared at him, tears filling your own eyes.

“And the bullet?”

“I was shot. At the border. I thought I wasn’t going to make it and I’d never been so glad I sent you back to Fjerda. You could’ve fallen in love with someone else. You could’ve been happy.”

“Why didn’t you send for me?” You cried, dropping your bag to the ground. “When you healed—you could have sent for me.”

“I did.” He told you, expression agonized. “And my ambassadors refused to send a single letter until I gave them Alina’s.” He swallowed, reaching out to touch your wet cheek. “I’ve thought about you every single day.”

You felt yourself short of breath.

“And now?” You asked, glancing down at the ring. “Now you’ll send me away again? After all this?”

He peered at you, seeming to deflate.

“How can you even want me?” He asked, and you shook your head, unable to speak as you buried yourself into his chest, his arms looping tight around you as you cried. “I love you. I have always loved you. Every second, every breath I take I yearn for you.”

“I would have stayed.�� You whispered, feeling his hands run down your back. “Through anything.”

You heard him sniff before he pulled back, tilting your face up to his.

“Will you still stay now?” He asked, his voice a broken plea. “I cannot live any longer without you by my side.” He brought your hand to his shoulder, over the scar, your palm flattening against his coat. “I would take a thousand of these for you. I would fight every day of my life to keep you with me. Just forgive me, princess. Stay.”

You could only look up at him, your heart cleaving as he bent down and kissed you, and the contact after so long was almost unbearable. The two of you seized one another desperately, tears mixing with the rain. And you would, you decided, as Nikolai’s lips promised you his life. His soul.

You’d stay.

see I told you guys I have a hard time not getting carried away LOL

#shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #wattpad #nikolai x reader #shadow and bone imagine #fluff #six of crows #nikolai lantsov angst #angst

[connorsblog]

you're gone, but im still here. | c.g

genre : angst

summary : after carls death, you feel lost.

warning : hallucinations & semi-graphic gore description

do not continue reading if you have not seen 8x09 !! spoilers ahead

i sat infront of carls grave, the mere dirt pile was all rick and michonne could do while alexandria was burning down to the ground.

a pang went to my heart as i ran my fingers over the ashed dirt. it was a mix of grey and brown now, just reminding me all over again how my home burnt down.

"i shouldve been able to save you," my voice cracks as i attempt to talk to carl. it doesnt work very well.

i try to talk again, but all that comes out is a cracked "sorry." it wasnt enough and i knew it.

i tried to focus on the background sounds, but the soft chirps of the cicadas didn't suffice for carls voice.

i tried to imagine him there, sitting next to me in silence and holding my head on his shoulder.

i guess i imagined too far, as when i turned around he was there. in 3d.

"carl?" my voice came out soft and broken.

"you don't have to be sad," he got straight to his point. almost like he was about to disappear any moment.

"i died to save someone. he's going to be good for the community," he continued, "his name is siddiq."

i guess i forgot about him, since he hadnt been here very long. i had seen him maybe once, maybe twice?

"it's not your fault i died," not even allowing me to talk before starting up again, "it's not your fault."

he kept saying that but some part of me, buried deep inside of me, thought otherwise.

"it is my fault," came out without my consent. i didnt want to speak, i wanted to relish in his voice and presence until i couldnt see his face anymore.

he gripped my wrist. some part of me wanted to rip away and continue to believe he was dead. but he was right there, in front of my face.

i began to talk again, but as quick as he came he left. nothing was there besides the dirt mound.

i heard ricks gravely voice from somewhere behind me. i ignored it, hoping, somehow that carl would come back.

forty-six beats of silence later, i felt a hand on my shoulder. bristly cold.

shortly after, i realized it was carl again.

i didn't speak, not that he'd let me, and waited for him to say something.

"siddiq is good people, you know," he lifts his head a bit, finally allowing me to see his gaping gunshot wound in his head. but it wasnt bleeding, just a void of flesh that was on the side of his head.

i resisted the urge to scream, that all-too-familiar pang in my heart back. plus, if i did scream.. i'd look crazy. nobody was there, right?

"you'll be okay without me," he continues. i didnt know why he continued to talk, i hadnt said anything for the past few minutes.

"are you sure?" i finally spoke up. my throat hurt from the words, they felt like lava bubbling up and threatening to blow any second.

"i'm sure," he whispered before his eye closed and he disappeared for the last time.

"i dont want to live without you. but i will anyway," i sigh out as i brush my fingers over his grave for the last time for a while. i cant mourn him for too long.

#connorsblog #carl grimes #carl grimes x gn!reader #carl grimes x reader #the walking dead #twd imagines

[sunnyville36]

Yours

Pairing: bang chan x fem reader

Warnings: vaginal fingering, finger sucking, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, degradation, marking, breeding kink if you squint

Rating: Explicit minors dni

Word count: 1.3k

thank you for reading! {my masterlist}

>>>

It started when Chan came home a few hours ago, freshly showered from the group’s last practice before heading out for tour tomorrow morning. 

It continued through dinner, where his hand held yours across the table, thumb rubbing gentle lines along your palm.

It was happening now; the two of you sitting curled up on your couch watching a movie. You’re sitting crossed legged in his lap, head against his shoulder while he draws slow patterns on your thigh, taking all your attention away from anything on the screen. 

You knew he probably wanted it too. You knew all you had to do was ask but…

Ahh fuck it.

You reach for the remote, shutting the TV off quickly. Chan begins to protest but stops when you turn in his grasp, legs on either side of him to straddle him. “I’m going to miss you,” you whisper, hands reaching up to wind themselves into his pretty curls, as if that’ll keep him here with you longer. 

He looks back at you morosely, hand moving to cup your cheek. “I’ll miss you too, angel. More than anything. You know that right?”

You nod in acknowledgement, leaning into his palm. His touch is warm and soft and everything you’re craving at the moment. It’s taking all your strength not to think about how just the thin material of his sleep shorts and your panties separate the two of you, but it’s a battle you’ve already lost. Before he can inevitably ask you what you want, you wrap your arms around his neck and lay your head back down on his chest. “Will you take me to bed Channie?”

The sound of his heart skipping a beat means he knows exactly what you mean with that request. 

He stands up, arms holding your legs in place as he carries you to the bedroom, shutting the door closed with his foot behind him. You reluctantly remove your legs from around his waist, letting him lay you on the bed before he kicks his slippers off and joins you on top of the covers. You waste no time pulling him towards you, the faint taste of cherry cola still staining his lips as you kiss him fiercely. He slowly rolls on top of you; his body slotting between your legs so naturally, one arm around your waist, the other wrapped in a crown above your head, holding you close to him. He pulls back just enough for the two of you to rip your remaining layers off, bodies falling back to the bed quickly, his lips against your neck and thumb circling your nipple. 

You want him so badly, hips rolling desperately against his. You want him everywhere, around you, inside you. Nose buried into the nape of his neck, you whine softly, raking slow marks down his back.

“Let me fuck you slow, baby. Make love to you,” he says, voice drenched with arousal, almost desperate for you to comply, thinking it’s for the best. But that’s not what you want right now, not what you need. You shake your head back and forth, causing him to raise up onto his forearms, staring at you with the most lustful, beautiful brown eyes. 

“No, no,” you plead, staring back at him, urging him to hear you. “I want more, please; before you go I want more. Want it how you like it.”

“You sure, angel?” 

“Please,” you whisper.

You see the dam break behind his eyes, his hand dropping quickly to cup your warm heat. “Fucking dripping for me already, aren’t you, my needy girl. You like it like this too, don’t you, baby?”

You close your eyes, whimpering in response as he runs a single finger down your slit, gathering the wetness and making a shiver run up your spine. You hear his voice next to your ear, quiet but eager. “Tell me, baby. Tell me what it is you like.”

“I love it, Chris,” you cry out, canting your hips to get more friction. “Love it when you tell me what a dirty girl I am. Tell me I’m just a slut for your cock.” 

“That is what you are, baby,” he agrees, covering the tip of his cock with your slick and rubbing it against your clit. “You’re my little cockslut. Cunt perfectly made for me to fuck, yeah?” 

You nod your head again, unable to speak as he drops his cock and slips two fingers inside you, giving you something but not nearly enough. Desperate for him to fill you, you grip the sheets tightly and squeeze around him, trying not to thrash frantically.

“Just my fingers and you’re clenching around me, pup. Not sure you could take my cock.”

“Please! Please…” you hear your voice beg, near tears at this point. 

“All that pretty mouth is good for is to beg,” he says, the hand not buried inside you coming to your hips to halt your movement. 

You open your eyes, an innocent pout on your face. “Not… Not all it’s good for.”

“Ahh, that’s right,” he says, leaning down to lick a slow stripe up your chest between your breasts until his face is right above yours. “Begging and sucking; how could I forget?” 

You open your mouth, taking his thumb between your lips, tongue circling it like you would his dick. He rests his head beside you, admiring the way you suck him while his other hand continues pounding into your pussy. “My baby’s gonna fuck herself dumb on just my fingers, huh?” You whine around him, hands reaching for his hips as you shake your head again. “No?” he laughs, removing his thumb and rising to his knees to line himself up with you. “Want me to fill that little pussy up, pump you full of cum?”

You drag him down against you as he enters you, a groan leaving your lips as a growl leaves his. He’s fucking you hard and fast, quick strokes hitting so deep inside you you think you might actually lose your mind. Your arms are locked around his body, pulling him just close enough to bite a tiny mark into his shoulder, muffling your moans into his skin. 

Chan’s deep groan reverberates through your chest at the feeling of your mouth on him. “That’s right, angel, mark me. Need everyone to know who I belong to when I’m away.” Your breath hitches at that, turning your own head to expose yourself to him. The second you feel his teeth bite down, sucking his own mark into your skin, you cum around him, legs shuddering violently as a cry leaves your mouth. 

“Oh fuck, just like that. Cream on my cock, just like that, baby.” Chan’s not too far behind, warm, thick spurts of his cum filling your cunt. After a few minutes to let your labored breathing subside, he eases out of you, watching his cum drip out around his cock. He puts his head between your legs, licking the liquid back up into your hole and fucking it back in slowly with his tongue. You fall apart under him again, hands tangled in his hair.

Pulling him up for a kiss, you wrap your arms and legs around him, pinning him to your body. 

“You’re mine,” he whispers to you, nuzzling your faces together as he shifts to get comfortable. “And I’m yours.” 

He was yours.

#bang chan smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #bang chan fanfiction #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfiction #bang chan fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #bang chan imagines #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #channie #yours #i'm yours

[inventedfangirling]

its been 12 hours since i watched it and i am still so pained by the whole thing i am finding it difficult to think of anything else. this is NOT fun. i did NOT sign up to be THIS emotionally invested. i signed up for mess but i signed up for the mess to be amusing me. not to feel like the mess is causing several ton of bricks to rest on my chest. i didnt sign up for this level of pain. i didnt sign up for flashes of the two of them while im idly sitting trying to think of literally anything.

its all my fault really. did i actually think firstkhao couldnt make me wanna rip my heart out in pain? that they couldnt do it just 5 eps in? its totally on me if i didnt see it coming ig. but gawd fck this pain sucks. i wish i could watch with more objective distance from the characters, but sadly for me im not wired that way.

if im feeling so sad at THIS, i dont frickin know how i could have handled bad buddy ep12 preview if i was watching it while it aired. i was so glad i didnt suffer like that. that was one of the reasons why i told myself i will watch this show all at once the episodes all came out. but tumblr cant talk about anything but them (LIKE I CANT RN) and i got fomo. and now here we are.

the lesson here my friends is, everything is pain, never love anything. goodbye.

#only friends the series #only friends brainrot #jojo and firstkhao yall better pay for my therapy #boston straight to jail for being exactly what he never tried to hide #first x khao

[mirkwoodmunson]

mid-west monster #1

werewolf!eddie munson x reader

you’ve been with eddie munson for a few months now, and while you knew the boy harbored some secrets — you weren’t aware just how hairy things were about to get

tw: cursing, body horror(? i think?)

a/n: for writeober i’ll be attempting to do (hopefully) daily drabbles, each one a progression of this fic and based around a generated prompt! feel free to send any in as well if you’d like to inspire future installments! happy halloween! LMAO anyway.... i abandoned this wip in early oct. when i realized i should maybe focus on my big move instead of writing, kept getting sad looking at it sitting in my drafts so i decided to slap on a quick sort-of-ending and just post it cause... i love werewolf!eddie so fucking much y'all ;; he'd be the scruffiest stankiest doggo bf and i'm HERE FOR IT. not sure if this'll be continued as past me suggested but if it gets some traction i'd look into progressing the story! hope you enjoy!

Your knuckles are a ghostly white, latched to the steering wheel where your thumb rubs hard into the frayed edge of the wheel cover, anxious and tense. Eddie had been radio silent for the third day now, Hellfire had gathered in the hopes that maybe he’d make some dramatic entrance after working on the materials for this session — but no Dungeon Master had shown his mischievous grin. You’d called and called, stopped by but Wayne had solemnly sent you off each time, assuring you his boy was fine — just going through a rough illness. Maybe it was selfish to think but it made you angry, if he was sick he could still pick up a phone, right? It was the honeymoon stage yet, you’d only started dating a few months back and you could admit you had a tendency to cling to him, but to be fair he seemed to be clinging to you, too. Till now, at least. Had something changed so suddenly?

You let out a heavy breath you just now realize you’d been holding and scold yourself. ‘Your thoughts aren’t always true. Wayne said he was sick so he’s sick. I can at least bring him a treat.’ Looking over at the tote bag of tupperware’d food you encourage yourself to smile and hold it as you pull into the Munson’s drive.

Wayne wasn’t home, but Eddie’s van was here, and so you collect your things and exit your car, hopping up the steps and rapping the door.

No answer.

“Eddie?”

A neighbor’s dog starts barking a few doors down. You could swear you hear something from inside, rustling and a door slamming shut.

“Eds? You in there? It’s me! I brought you some stuff.”

Nothing.

“W-Wayne said you were super sick, so…” you trail off softly, lowering your arms and heaving a sigh.

“Eddie? I know you’re home I— … I’m worried about you, I just—“ you groan softly and just set everything down on the steps, worried the more you call to him the more annoyed he’s getting.

“I’ll just… I’m setting your stuff down out here for you, okay? Don’t forget about it.” A few more moments leaned against the door, waiting for anything, but nothing comes and you can’t help a slight pang, heading back down the steps.

“…Feel better, Eds.” Glancing back you cant even look inside, the curtains all shut tight. ‘He must really be sick.’

You head home but for the rest of the night your thoughts and worries start to take over a little, unable to sit still as you pace your room and question every last interaction you’d had with him, wonder about every possible illness you knew the name of. If he’d just call, pick up when you rang, just say one word to let you know you didn’t need to worry so much.

As you’re in the middle of that thought the phone does indeed ring, and you nearly trip over yourself to get to it, ripping the receiver from the cradle and holding it tight against your ear.

“Hello??”

“…”

“… Hello? Someone there?”

“Y/N?” His voice is low, weak, obscured slightly but it’s Eddie. Oh, your heart nearly beats from your chest.

“Eddie?? Babe what the f— I’ve been so worried! Are you okay?”

“… … I- … I’m- I’m fine, promise. I’m fine.” He sounds strained.

“Are you sure? Do you need anything? I-I left you some stuff—“

“Sweetheart I— I can’t… Can’t really talk much, now… Just… Wanted to tell you, I’m okay…” There’s some rustling as though he’s covering the receiver on his end; you swear you hear him whimper.

“Eds?? Eddie please I-“ *click*

You hang onto the phone long enough for the signal to start bleeping at you as if in irritation that you’re still on the line, reminding you to set it back down in its cradle.

The clock tells you it’s close to midnight. Your brain tells you something’s very wrong.

Fifteen minutes later you’re rocking to a sudden halt in your car, once again sat in Eddie’s driveway. Same as before, Wayne isn’t home yet, and Eddie’s van is parked just beside you. The tote bag you’d left still sat on the steps.

You step out, striding up to his door with purpose and this time just trying the knob — locked. Glancing down the length of the trailer, the curtains still seemed to be drawn and there’s no discernible light peeking through, save for Eddie’s bedroom, a soft orange glow from a covered lamp indicating some presence.

Hoping to high heaven that neither Munson would hold trespassing against you, you bend down and lift the mat as you’d seen Eddie do a few times — the hidden spare key glinting at you in the moonlight. Using it on the lock, you turn the knob again and suck in a deep breath as you push the door open into an eerily silent, pitch-black living room.

“…Eddie?” Your voice is soft and hitched, trembling a little, too quiet to get anyone’s attention. Why were you kind of freaking out right now? There’s a rustle down the hall, a gruff, muffled noise and you gasp, jumping in your step. Looking down the hallway, it’s that same lightless black, until your eyes reach Eddie’s bedroom door — that orange light bleeding through the space between the door and the floor.

“E-Eddie?” You find yourself taking slow steps towards his room, eyes locked onto that strip of light. When a shadow runs across it you feel a cold sweat break over you. “Eds, seriously, seriously I’m kind of freaked out right n—“

There’s no time to react as the door slams open and crashes into the wall, a large, shivering figure in the doorway wearing Eddie’s Hellfire t-shirt, but it’s ripped and stained. You can’t make it out exactly, but the light from behind it illuminates its shape — and it’s much bigger than Eddie. Rugged; shoulders heaving. But its breathing is… unnatural. Almost like there’s a growl laced in it. You stumble backwards and to the floor from the initial shock of the door flying open, hastily lifting yourself onto your elbows, and when you behold this figure you gasp a sharp, shuddering breath, trying to croak out a scream but it catches and you find you can only stutter and whimper, struggling to scurry backwards but your movements are shaky and your limbs feel frozen.

It heaves a growl, snarls but it’s eerily soft, and takes a heavy step forward, vibrating through you. Your mind screams at you to move but you’re still just scrambling, arms heavy, trying to inch yourself away as you emit low whimpers, eyes wide and unable to leave the beast before you. Its eyes glow an unnatural yellow and it’s how you know it’s staring right back into yours. You can make it out a little better now, but your mind struggles to comprehend exactly what you’re looking at.

The creature is at least seven feet tall, almost entirely covered in dark, wavy fur. Its limbs don’t fit, however, they’re too human as its fingers reach up to pull at a mane of wild, shaggy hair, and that’s when you really notice the ears. They’re tall, pointed, set back like a dog ready to lunge. Its muzzle just the same, canine and lined with sharp teeth as it snarls. Eddie’s Hellfire tee… why was it wearing that??

“E-E— Ed—die…“ The tears fall freely and you cry. ‘So this is how I’m gonna die,’ you think. ‘This monster must have eaten Eddie and now it’s gonna eat me too.’

At the sound of your voice, however, something changes quickly. The beast spasms as if struck, crouching and curling into itself as it whines. As you watch in horror, you witness the final stage of this creature's transformation. The same dark fur breaks out over rippling arm and leg muscles, as the creature whines again and groans; you gasp, watching fingers lengthen and sharpen into claws. Arms and legs swell with muscle beneath the sheath of fur, and a howl of pain twins with a sob that wracks you. Terror and fear and also... sympathy. How do you know this creature?? Why are you suddenly so sad that it's hurting.

The beast's head snaps up, yellow eyes aglow, and it... calms. It sighs, almost, relieved the worst of it is over and now its attention is locked onto you. But the menace is gone -- if anything, this creature seems worried. Upset. Sad that it's frightened you.

You're still trembling, however, still weeping silently on the floor as you just lock eyes with this hulking being in front of you. The Hellfire tee... You keep scanning, gaze wandering over the wavy fur, and something dangling from this beast's neck makes your heart drop. The shirt should have given it away, but how could you think straight when a literal werewolf was snarling and staring you down. But now, Eddie's pick hanging from it's thick, furry neck...

You take in a shuddering breath, shaking your head in disbelief. The wolf begins to whine, lowering its head, ears lowered and pulled back again but now like a dog ashamed of what it's done. You cant help a bark of a laugh, the tears continuing to spill.

"EDDIE??! WHAT THE HELL!!"

Your werewolf boyfriend barks. You swear you see his tail wag.

#eddie munson #werewolf!eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson ficlet #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson horror #???? i think #mine

[lennjamin-o7]

Techno: "Huh, I couldve sworn I saw movement inside the palanquin" Phil, inside said palanquin: writing little notes on everything someone does that he doesnt like in his diary kicking his feet like a schoolgirl Phil: "Revenge and a sonboy?? What else could a man want! Truly I have the most perfect wife <3"

All the other notes in his diary are just P+ K in a big heart. On literally every page.

Schlatt: Doing his damndest to make a good impression on Techno Techno: "Kinda weird dude but he seems ok" Schlatt internally: If I dont become besties with this fucking kid by the end of the day I'm gonna lose my job; I am SO fucking behind on my magic taxes!

Schlatt: trying to bond a bit with the new sonboy of the fae realm Mielle: Ah yes, this is all about ME Schlatt: "Bro I'm trying to build business connection here! Leave me alone so I can SCHMOOZE!!"

Schlatt: "I don't think your pops would like me giving you food, he'd probably kill me about it actually" Techno: "the king can kill fae?? He never mentioned that before! That wouldve saved us this whole trip" Schlatt: "Oh they're going down the 'surprise adoption' route huh. Don't worry about it then princeling!"

Schlatt: "Wait you genuinely don't know who the fae you made that deal with actually is??" The royals: "Nope? Why would that be important??" Schlatt: "You know what? Not my business. I'm just here to do the bare minimum and network with the newest sonboy of the realm. Not educate dumbass humans."

Schlatt looking at the palanquin: "What kind of ASSHOLE would leave their sonboy alone all sad? God that's such a DICK MOVE isn't it little princeling?? Wouldn't wanna get adopted by that guy!" Phil, scowling from inside: This feels a bit personal

Phil: makes magic plant to shade his sonboy from the sun and heat Felix: leans closer to techno so he can have some shade too Phil: thin ice but I guess its ok Mielle: steals techno's seat and makes him sit in the shit area she was sitting in Phil: absolutely fucking not. eat shit and die.

Mielle: openly talks shit about who's about to be the prince of all fae Fundy who just wanted to see the sonboy: Bro i gotta fucking haul ass if I wanna live to see another day Puffy who needed to vibe check Mielle: The vibes? Rancid. I hope you have an AWFUL day. Matter of fact? I HOPE the queen kicks your ass. You deserve it.

Phil: They hurt our sonboys feelings! They made him so sad!! Kristin: aww poor baby :( I'm gonna rip them to fucking shreds <3

Queen Chesil: where the fuck has my son gone he ran off but now we cant find him holy shit this is bad Phil: Just turned my new son into a fae!! Might fuck around and get some more revenge later <33

Techno: "I wanna go back to my old family! I love them all!!" Kristin: "Oh yeah? Name one good thing about Mielle. Quickly." Techno: Techno: Techno: "That was so unfair and you know it" Kristin: "You'll get over it. Now how about some cookies? You're far too skinny!"

The royals: "thank god the queen was willing to hear about our deal. Now we dont have to worry about that fae yoinking our second child!" Phil, pulling the old switcharoo: yoinks their third child The royals: surprised pikachu face

The royals when court is back in session: "Where the fuck is our youngest prince what did you do" Kristin: "Yeah about that… you lost the custody battle on that one and since he's technically not inside your deal you cant do anything about it" :) The royals: "Surely there's some way we can bargain him back?? This isn't fair at all!" Kristin: "Ohh well the thing with that is we've kinda sorta already adopted him and turned him into a fae? Yeahh maybe you shoulve been a bit more attentive if you didnt want the boy to get snatched! We got his name fair and square too. No wiggle room at all on your end!! The royals: "Thats literally so unfair??" Kistin:"Have you maybe considered the fact that I literally dont care?? We're kinda fucking famous of stealing kids. Now shoo so I can have more sonboy time!"

Phil would do something like that. If anyone asks, he would call it a travel journal, but its just filled with vendettas and mushy doodles of Kristin. Little hardcore hearts drawn throughout.

Magic taxes asdfghjkll Yeah he would be. Fuck the magic IRS, he's from Magic New York.

Schlatt is there to do his job and insult mortals, and he's already done his job. And that insult thrown at Philza was INCREDIBLY directed. Phil was scowling the entire time. Very unhappy. Stay away from his new son.

Oh yeah, Phil didn't LIKE Felix trying to share the shade, but it was fine. Techno looked thrilled with his brother curled next to him. Can't be too mad.

Not eat shit and die, SMELL shit and die. Stinky plant for stinky children. Send a nice breeze so Techno doesn't have to smell it.

Fundy was not about to get merked because a bratty girl decided to try and one-up the kid literally wearing Philza's jewelry. He had a life to live.

All of your impressions are KILLING ME. Every single one of them. I am dead. Sorry guys, can't update the last chapter because this ask killed me via my funny bone /j.

There is a no refund policy in Kristin's court. Finders keepers. :P

#ask and ye shall receive #sweeter than honey #lenn writes #anonymous

[crystallizedkingdoms]

Coda

day 7 of @johann-appreciation-week! the final day has come already huh. this one went by so quickly. i cant wait for the next one :3. just as a warning though, this fic discusses magnus' canon wonderland death under the impression hes actually dead, and alludes to johanns canon death. sad ending :(

you can also read this on ao3 <3

There is an end to every song. Even when you wish with all your might that the end won’t come, it will come and take all the music with it. 

There is nothing anyone can do to stop it. Try as you might to stall the ending, to beg for that song to stay playing, forever and ever and ever, the end will catch up. An ending will always come.

Johann thinks about the end when Avi curls up in his bed, sobbing into himself. The two of them are in Avi’s dorm, desperately clutching each other’s hands like they are the only thing keeping each other down. Nothing really feels right when the Bureau loses an employee, of course, but to lose Magnus…  

“They said ‘moving on is what he would have wanted.’ I hate that they’re right. I hate that they’re right because it is so hard to do that right now,” Avi says. His breath has that strong scent of alcohol that Johann hates, but he’s still mostly sober— if only because Johann had to rip the flask away from him. “Out of all of them, I didn’t expect Magnus to be the one to… to be the one…”

Johann wordlessly listens to Avi, a terrible pain of his own clawing at his heart. Nothing has felt quite right these past few days leading up to this year’s Midsummer, and what a way for this feeling to pay off. The death of Magnus Burnsides, of all people, and the downright fucking terrifying scene of the wilting surface that Johann had witnessed a few hours earlier. 

“There’s so much happening, Avi…” Johann whispers. His voice cracks a little. A weak and small sound. Avi doesn’t reply. He just sighs and holds Johann a little tighter. 

A million different thoughts swarm Johann’s head as he sits on the edge of Avi’s bed in silence: Why Magnus out of everyone? Is he really gone? Why is the fucking apocalypse happening down there and only Garfield seems to be the only one doing anything about it? Should I take Avi and leave? Is that more dangerous? What’s going to happen to the Bureau? Oh gods, do we even have time to do Magnus’s Rites of Parting before we figure out the last relic? I have to start writing his composition—

“Hey, you okay, Johann?” Avi asks. He is sniffling and shuddering, but he still looks up at Johann all worried. “You’re holding onto my hand so tightly. Your nails kind of hurt.”

Johann loosens his grips on Avi’s hand he didn’t even know he had tightened. “Sorry, I’m really sorry. I’m just— just overwhelmed. And I’m so scared, Avi. I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared. Nothing feels right,” Johann says through building tears. “Don’t you feel it? Don’t you feel that everything feels wrong? ”

Avi takes a deep breath and sighs with his whole body. He props himself up onto his back, resting on the headboard of his bed. “Yeah, I know. There’s only so much we can take. And his death is… fuck, man, it’s a lot,” he says. Then, he tugs on Johann’s arm, beckoning him closer. “But… gods, Johann, no matter how wrong everything feels, we still have each other, don’t we?”

That’s not the only thing though! It’s not just his death. Everything feels wrong. Everything feels bad and we need to get out of here, Johann wants to yell, but he doesn’t say it. Even when it nags at him, that’s not what he says. Why would he? That’s not what Avi needs to hear. That’s not what anyone needs to hear at this moment. 

“Yeah,” Johann tries to weakly smile, “yeah, we still have each other.” 

Avi attempts to smile back. Johann knows deep in his heart, without having to think, that Avi’s smile looks better and more sincere than the one he’s currently giving. It’s unfair that even in this day of total hell, Avi is still the better comforter between the two of them. “Come closer,” Avi pleads. His voice drips with anguish and longing as he tugs Johann’s arm again. “Lay down with me, please?” 

Johann looks down on the tear-stained sheets of Avi’s bed. How many times have they laid in this bed, talking about each other’s day, planning their next date? Was it right to lay in it when everything seems to be going so wrong? Shouldn’t they be doing something, anything about their situation? 

Johann tries his hardest to ignore that side of him. He smiles more genuinely at Avi this time, then crawls closer to Avi’s side. In an instant Avi is clinging to Johann’s body, and Johann holds him just as tight. They are cuddling into each other, needing one another, both seeking shelter when they feel unsteady in the world around them. One much more than the other.

“We should stay here,” Avi says. “Let’s just stay here? In my room, together. Fuck whatever is happening out there, fuck the Relics, fuck everything. No need to do our jobs, not now. Let’s just… let’s just pretend that nothing is awful.” 

Johann rubs his face into Avi’s chest. He needs to be as close to him as possible to block everything out. “How can we do that?” Johann asks. “How can we just hide from it all? It’s all lingering above us. It’s all coming down. It’s going to crash on me.”

“Very cryptic way of saying it,” Avi laughs awkwardly. “We can do… anything here. In the safety of this room. 

You left your harp here last time, you could play something. I also have some snacks somewhere. We can eat. I have books we can read, too. We can talk about life, talk about anything and everything about our life after the Bureau. That sounds nice, doesn’t it?” His speech gets faster and faster in his rambling, like he’s urgently searching for anything to occupy his mind other than the terrible things around him.

It freaks Johann out a little, so he silently holds Avi tighter, as if to say, I’m here, Avi, I’m here with you. 

That seems to calm Avi down a little. “Or we could… we can just rest. You can sleep in my arms. And everything will be alright,” he says. It sounds more like he’s trying to comfort himself more than he’s trying to comfort Johann. Not that Johann can be mad at that. Avi has always been the one that needs to talk in stressful situations like these. Johann isn’t going to deny him that. 

“Sleeping in your arms does sound nice…” Johann hums and nuzzles into Avi. He feels calm in this embrace, and for a second, Johann does believe that they can lie here forever. That if they fall asleep in each other’s arms, they will wake up and the world will be right again. The mourning of Magnus will wreck the Bureau, of course, but Johann and Avi will make it through together. 

Avi kisses Johann’s lips in a surprise moment of relaxation. Johann is a little shocked at first, but he kisses Avi back. The kiss is sweet, but long. Long enough that Johann raises his hand up to thread through his long, loose hair and keep it there. A comforting gesture for both of them. Johann melts into the kiss even more. He wishes it can last forever. 

But there are things to do. Things to fulfill. They eat up at the corner of Johann’s thoughts, even after he pulls away from the kiss. Even after he tries to hide away in the crook of Avi’s neck and just let himself relax. His thoughts wander farther and farther from Avi, and back to work…

Oh gods, Johann’s work. He had so many pieces down at the Voidfish’s chambers that were laying there, unfinished. One of them was the Voidfish’s first meal it’s had in a while! He couldn’t just delay its feeding again.

“Avi, I…” Johann wriggles away from Avi slightly to sit up. “I haven’t fed the Voidfish. I have to go down there really quickly, I’m sorry.”

Avi stares at Johann with a look of disbelief. His eyes are still red and puffy from the crying, which sends a pained pang in Johann’s heart. “Johann, what? The Voidfish can live without a meal for a day,” he says, and damn it, those eyes he gives Johann are downright painful.

“No, I— I’ve been skipping its meals lately. I haven’t fed it in maybe weeks I think. I need to check on it. It’ll be quick, babe, please.”

Johann’s words seem to be settling into Avi, which he notices by the tension growing in his body. “You’re not serious are you? You’re just teasing me. Come on, you’re not really going to leave me here, are you?” Avi asks.

“I’m not leaving you, don’t say it like that! It will be really quick, I promise. I just need to go there. I’ll be in and out,” Johann tries to reassure.

“You always do this, Johann,” Avi seethes. “I know grief isn’t easy on you. I know you usually bury yourself in your work after someone passes here, but please, not this time. I’m begging you. Please stay with me.”

Johann looks away from Avi. He has to avoid those eyes or he won’t be able to go anywhere. “I’m sorry, I know I do this. Maybe that’s what it is. Maybe that’s where this shitty feeling is coming from, but god, let me go just this one time. Let me go and feed the Voidfish, and I’ll come back as soon as I can. I already have a full composition for it, it won’t need anything more than a few finishing touches, I’ll be quick— ”

“You being quick doesn’t change the fact that I am asking you to stay and you are leaving me for work! We should be supporting each other and all you can think about is your work?” Avi yells. 

Johann freezes. Avi is yelling at him. When was the last time they yelled at each other?

Johann’s pulling himself away from Avi when he seems to realize. “Ah, um, Johann, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that. I’m just really stressed right now, and I…” Avi trails off, trying to catch Johann’s eyes. “I just really need you right now.”

Johann still refuses to look into Avi’s eyes. He’s staring down at the floor that is much cleaner and more inviting than his own mess down in the Voidfish’s quarters. “I need you too, Avi,” Johann says. “I hope you’re not reading this as me trying to avoid you or that I don’t need you to.” 

Avi bites his tongue. “Then why are you going down?” he asks. His words sound strained and distressed.

“I need to feed the Voidfish. I need to… to be with my work. For one last time. We’re almost done with the mission, right?” Johann says. He finally turns back to face Avi, and there are tears streaming down his face. “We won’t be here anymore. I won’t feed the Voidfish anymore. And that’s— that’s equal parts so liberating and also terrifying.

“Once everything terrible out there in the world ends, and the Relics are gone, we’ll have our life together. The one we always talk about: where we move back down to Neverwinter, I play full-time and you look for another job, we meet each other’s parents and we love each other for years to come. There will be other nights I will be able to sleep in your arms.”

Johann takes Avi’s hand into his. He rubs his thumb over the tattoos on Avi’s fingers, wishing that this alone could prove to Avi just how much he really, truly loves him. “Does that make sense?” he asks.

Avi is starting to cry again, too. It was painful to watch Avi cry over Magnus, but knowing that Avi’s now crying over him is somehow even more painful. “I think I do,” he sighs. “I still would rather you didn’t do this. I really wish we could stay here together. I don’t want you to leave, but I guess I can’t stop you, huh?”

Looking into Avi’s eyes, Johann sees it. It is a fraction of the feeling that Johann is feeling, and he’s not sure if Avi can actually pinpoint it, but Johann recognizes that look in his eyes without a doubt: Avi feels everything is wrong, in whatever small way, too. Johann lifts Avi’s hand up to his lips and plants a small, teary kiss right on his ring finger. “I’ll be okay, Avi. I promise. You’ll barely even notice I’m gone, I swear I’ll be quick,” he says, his lips still pressed against Avi’s knuckles. 

“Don’t say that. I always notice when you’re gone. I always will.”

Johann feels a little guilty for feeling really good about that. He feels really guilty for leaving Avi at all. He hates the idea of being alone when the world is going to shit all around them. Yet that alluring and captivating call that his work echoes out to him, the idea of being surrounded with his life’s work before he inevitably has to start packing up…

It pains Johann to admit that he finds it more enticing than sleeping in Avi’s arms.

Johann kisses Avi’s hand once more, then he leans down to kiss Avi on the lips. Avi eagerly kisses back, leaning up into Johann’s lips and trying to keep them as close as possible. They stay there for what feels like hours to Johann and only a fraction of a second to Avi. In reality, the kiss is neither too long nor too short. One thing that is certain about the kiss is just how full of love it is. Their hands tighten and caress each other’s fingers as a further show of support and love. It is here that they are safe. Here their sweet song plays uninterrupted.

But there is an end to every song. That idea hits Johann again and fills him with melancholy.

Avi is the one to end the kiss, surprisingly. He pulls away from Johann’s sweet lips with a sigh, “I… I won’t hold you back any longer this time, but you have to promise that we can discuss this habit when everything is better. Can you promise me that, Johann?” He is asking that with exhaustion so pitiful that makes Johann’s guilt eat up at him even more.

“Yes, Avi, I promise,” Johann says. With pain in his heart, Johann releases Avi’s hand and starts to leave the room.

“Wait,” Avi frantically says as Johann opens the door.

Johann turns around. His heart is pounding loud in his chest. “Yes?

“I love you, Johann.”

Johann thinks these might be the words that will snap him out of his daze. Some part of him hopes and prays that it is. He wants Avi’s love. He’s always wanted Avi’s love. Johan loves Avi, and Avi loves him so much. He should stay here, and let it last forever, right?

“I love you, too, Avi,” Johann chokes out. Then he steps out of Avi’s dorm room and closes the door behind him, following a thread of fate that had been wrapped around his fingers long before this Day of Story and Song.

When Johann goes down the elevator to the Voidfish’s chambers, we know what will happen. A song will end so that it can inspire all of reality to fight. To win. 

There is an ending to every song, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. Though that heartfelt invitation tried to stall it, an ending still came. Avi will spend the rest of his life thinking he could have stopped that ending, but the truth is, there was nothing he could do. Johann would’ve gone down there no matter what. An unalterable string of fate better left untouched. 

Despite it all, it was still important. That invitation was still important. That invitation still made Johann think. It still made Johann feel loved. That will always be enough.

#johann appreciation week #taz johann #taz avi #johavi #ask to tag #my writing

[ramblesfromshambles]

1 Star Kiss 1.1 : Good Morning Sweets

Okay I am not usually one for writing fan fiction BUT of course Carmy and Syd eat my brain alive sooooo here! This is only part one of chapter one so give me time to cook ;)

'The rain is hitting hard on that window this morning,' I think to myself. My eyes are open wide and blinking, long since adjusted to the dark. I dart them around the room. They find the catch-all chair holding my clothes for tomorrow. 'Yeah. It's cute, right? Like, not too flashy?' I run through the pieces again in my mind, like a recipe, and picture each item in my brain. 'One pair of stocking, the new navy bra and panty set from Victoria's Secret. I really should have tried that bra on in store, no, its was way too crowded in there- Focus Sydney. Black velvet pumps with a thin strap and clasp around the ankle, tiny diamond and gold studs, Two thin gold chains: one with a small heart charm and one with an S-the one from Dad.' A small smile pulls across my face in the dark at the thought of him.

I stare at the ceiling, I realize I've reconstructed everything but the dress. I dare to look over at it on the chair, still wrapped in the plastic from the dry cleaners. I want to stop, shut my eyes again and push it all away from the conscious side of my head. Instead I take a deep breath. 'Mom's dress. Blue satin. Spaghetti straps. Floor length. High slit on the right side.' I choke out each detail against my own judgement. My mental reconstruction of the dress morphs into the still image of my mother in the dress. It's from one of my dad's favorites, one he keeps in the album by his bed. We used to look through that one almost every night when I was really young. I see us together, sitting on his bed, in that old house. I want hold onto the memory and try to bring it into focus. He is telling me another funny story about that night, some gala they had to attend. I pour over the scene in third person watching my father recount his tale, and talking with his hands. I watch myself look from him to the picture and back to him. Little me throws her head back in laughter releasing a huge gapped tooth smile. My father beams, but tears rush down and hit little me's arm. I watch her reach up and catch his wet cheek in her hands. Suddenly I am ripped away from this hazy vignette and shoved into a cascade of new ones. They come in a flurry, tighter, stiffer, and even less coherent than the last one. Me on the beach with her. But these are older, from a time I almost don't remember. My third birthday. They are more like gifs around the moments I now recognize as pictures from other collections of albums. My mother's funeral. I can feel the tears now pooling in my collar bones but I cant bring myself to open my eyes. I am too stuck in the little diorama of that moment. My alarm, 5:30 already. It's enough to bring me back to myself.

I roll over and quickly shut it off, wiping my face as I re-settle. Warm hands reach across the bed and pull me in till I am the little spoon. 'My favorite,' I think. Soon I am cocooned in muscular arms and even a leg is tossed over me. I cant help but giggle as I am playfully trapped in this bear hug. Kisses patter my neck and up behind my ear. "Good morning sweets" I hear him say. With all my strength and hopefully with the element of surprise I roll into him and nuzzle myself under his chin. "Good morning Mar" I kiss his Adam's apple. He pulls back to look at me and takes a thumb gently to the remnants of tears on my face. "Hey, woah. You okay?" He searches my eyes for answers. "Yeah, totally. Just a nightmare. No biggie." I don't know if he actually believes me, but he doesn't press it. He only pulls my face close and kisses me on the forehead. "You know what day it is. You ready?" He smiles and starts to do a little dance. More of a wiggle than anything. "Star day, it's star day! Come on girl!" His sing song tune pulls me back to myself, much gentler than the alarm clock did, and I crack a smile. "Look we don't even know if we are going to get a star" I say. "Like hell we aren't!"

#sydcarmy #the bear #carmen berzatto #sydney adamu #marcus x sydney #fanfic #1 star kiss #sydney x carmy #death mention tw #funeral mention tw

[hella1975]

hi okay so, this is a piece of shitty poetry i wrote just now after thinking about your protrayal of zuko (again) and wanted to share bc im a dumb bitch who craves validation and needs to know what you think of this. and if i put a little too much of myself into it in the process, and it became more about my weird relationship with being trans than zuko, it's irrelevant, dont ask questions! it was about zuko initially and i still think it can kinda be applied to him so thats all that matters!! pls forgive the lack of capitalisation, its turned off on my phone and im too lazy to change it :,)

(you dont have to read the next part but if u finish the poem and think it sucks it will explain why lmfao)

BUT FIRST, i need to clarify that ive never written poetry in my life, i know nothing about writing, and my punctuation is definitely all over the place. this whole thing for sure sucks but i have an excuse!! a flimsy one, sure, but still an excuse! im 16 and dont remember ever actually learning gow to write, or all about punctuation or any of that jazz. this is more of a stream of consciousness than a poem. and its just a rough draft so, very unfinished too!! so if u really dont like it that will explain why. basically the point of this whole paragraph is just to tell you that im dumb but im also terrified so please be nice to me bc i will cry and that is a threat! (if im starting to sound hysterical and like im spiralling its bc i am okay pls ignore it)

okay so enough excuses, here she is:

this deep, harsh, incessant feeling of shame harbouring in the bottom of my gut is to me, what roots are to a tree,

solid, strong, and stable,

intertwined with my bones and rooted within my very being.

it feeds me and mother me, swaddling me like an infant and rocking me to sleep from within its familiar, welcoming grasp.

I need it for survival, so integral in my very existence that ripping us apart would destroy all thats left within me.

But yet, we are so very unlike that beautiful symbiosis that the root and plant achieve,

that sweet, simple promise, void of all evil, so pure and light that it, He speaks vengefully about it, spitting sour words into my face and whispering harsh lies into my ears.

Our promise is not so gentle. it solely benefits Him, throwing all of me into the dirt and replacing him with a new unidentifiable creature, borne of self hatred and a need to become something, anything else. a dire need to detach myself from everything ive ever been and anything i could possibly become.

He is a parasite, a horrible looming creature, a cruel beast, making me cower in fear within my own, wretched body. He is cruel, intent on toppling the civilisation i spent so long building, the kingdom of my ego, my heart, my emotion; while i sit, and i watch, and i do nothing.

i may need Him to push the breathe from my lungs and carry the blood through my veins, but, He does not need me. He will never need me. im merely another of his children, an effortlessly replaceable thing. a shameful, ugly creature that He does not care for. that He does love. that He does not need. He does not want me. He does not want me. He does not want me. He does not want me. He does not want me.

anonstie i absolutely adored this you cant write something with the theme of shame written with visceral nature imagery and expect me not to go stupid crazy. the way it starts so structured and delicate just to end with that hysterical repetition like it's all falling apart and i LOVE your wording of things, like 'our promise is not so gentle' is such a sick line. im obsessed with this tysm for sending it me!

#as a writer who also never properly got taught anything and had to figure everything out alone i am GRABBING you by the shoulders rn #this is so good and there was no need to be so doubtful of yourself! i hope you keep writing :) #ask

[the1975attheirverybest]

"Your favourite colour is red, because its as bright as fire and you burn similarly with passion but you never stick to just one because you think there's too much to enjoy about all colours" hands thrown up in frustration, a hint of a slur in my voice that I dont care to acknowledge while he just stands there, listening. vision blurred, the wind is cold, whipping past with a chilling sting. standing on the side of the road by his car, what are we doing here? why did i insist on getting out. I cant remember. but he just stands there, silent.

He dares to just stand there?! To just fucking stand there. Staring pitying like im some wounded fucking animal. hair windswept and eyes glassy under the moonlit sky, thousands of stars, constellations watching us, Coma Berenice, our constellation, and he says nothing, lets me scream at him, at the empty countryside. Maybe he's being kind? Gentle, maybe it's not pity, but when you spend so long without either it's impossible to distinguish between them.

"Your favourite seasons are summer and autumn, but you hate the cold in winter," pulling his jacket tighter...im wearing his jacket? when did I get this? his arms are bare, a button up shirt loose hanging off his frame, a lighter in his palm and a cig between his fingers. did we stop for a smoke break?

"your favourite time of day is dusk when you can sit outside and drown in that orange English light you always talk about instead of all those thoughts in your head" feeling my hands shake and my teeth clench, everything about this is wrong, why am I yelling at him? What did he even say in the first place? Did he say anything? did we just stop to smoke? how did we even get here. tears sting the corners of my eyes and theres an unsteadiness in my voice, a constricting in my chest and throat like i cant breathe. Was i ever able to breathe?

"You know what else I know? Your favourite guitar is the mustang because it's got an offset sound" pulling at his jacket, to try and rip it from my body despite the freezing night air, but hes quicker, silent still, his hands on my arms keeping me from pulling it off, the lighter pressed now into my forearm uncomfortably. standing there, swaying gently and its almost comforting if not for the every creeping panic of it all, the tightness in my throat only worsening until it feels as if i can barely rasp a word.

"and your favourite person…." voice small as the realisation dawns on me, trailing off and trying to pull away. its like being hit by a semi truck, that's how this feels, like running full pelt into a brick wall. The stop light never turned green and he never even spoke a word. Matty just watches, something between concern and hurt but no anger, he should be angry. I need him to be angry. to get mad and yell at me, to lash out, to be cruel, to shake me by the shoulders, to do anything, to say anything "….isn't me."

cheek pressed to his shirt, his heart beats steadily beneath skin and bone, his hand pressed to the back of my head and the other on the small of my back, shushing me. holding me close in a way i dont deserve. could never deserve.

He still says nothing.

NOOOOOO. I JUST

I will HAVE MUCH TO SAY BUT I NEED TO STOP CRYING FIRST. GUYS. MAKE HIM PAY CUZ I AM SO

hehwhwhahuwiwhsbsnwlqmabsvhwnws. Shejens

[eddieheart]

BULLSHIT

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairings: Eddie X Steve

Words: 700

Description: based on this video:

"You look so different." Her voice echoed in his head.

He did look different, there was no denying it. He'd been very different then. When he first came to Hawkins is hair had been buzz cut, he'd been four feet tall, sporting a fresh black eye and a split lip.

Back when he was younger he had long hair, the same long scraggly curls, just different. Instead of the gentle caresses of soft hands he'd gotten a calloused fist to the face and fingers intertwined in his silky locks.

Back then he hadn't been Eddie Munson, the freak, the dungeon master, the weird rocker guy. He'd been Edrisa, the little girl, the little hellion, the little bitch. Harsh words and harsher hands, kicking, punching, grabbing, all the time.

Eventually it had been too much, one night the little girl had snuck away into the bathroom and shaved her head. Her father had beaten her senseless and by the next day she, was living with his uncle Wayne.

It had gone on too long, he needed to tell Steve. He needed to know before things got too far, before he started to fall for him.

Eddie had invited the younger boy out to the woods, Steve had arrived on time as always. They were sitting alone on the bench, just the two of them. Side by side on the facing each other.

"So what did you wanna talk about Eds? Eddie?" He asked leaning forward, placing a gentle hand onto Eddie's.

He snatched in hand away and looked down to the ground in shame.

"Cmon Eddie, I thought we were friends, you can tell me anything." Eddie responded with a sad sigh. He stood turning away.

"Eddie, is something wrong. Cus I thought... I thought... this was because you wanted to be my boyfriend or something." Steve replied sadly. Eddie turned to face him with a broken look in his eyes.

"I-I'm not exactly a b-boy Steve." He paused for a moment.

It was quiet and still, no one spoke. He’d read it wrong hadn’t he. Steve was gonna hate him, he was gonna tell everyone. Everyone would know what he was.

"What?" He asked, confused.

"I'm, I'm... I wasn't always like this. I used to be a girl. But I'm- I'm not. Probably think I'm crazy right." He asked with a teary eyed look.

He was terrified, he’d be shunned again. It would be just like before.

"No." Steve replied softly.

"Cmon, don't bullshit me man! I know how this sounds." The older boys voice broke as he spoke, he was crumbling.

He remember when Nancy had said that, Steve needed the other boy to know that he wasn’t bullshit. He loved Eddie, Steve needed Eddie to know that it wasn’t all a joke. Nancy had broken his heart that day, ripped it out and stamped in it. He needed Eddie to know this wasn’t the same.

"It's not bullshit. It's okay." He placed a gentle hand onto Eddie's shoulder. It was too much, the older boy quickly bolted up and ran off.

“Eddie!” What had he done wrong? Was it all his fault. Why did Eddie run away, did he not trust him? He needed to see Eddie, to talk to him. But maybe he should give him some time to cool down first.

——

There was a rumbling outside the trailer, drawing Eddie outside. Harrington was waiting just past his door way.

"Steve? What are you doing here?" He asked crossing his arms.

His head whipped up, the cold nipped at his nose. Steve needed to make up for whatever he’d done.

"I wanted to talk about today." Eddie looked at the ground and sighed, tears welled up in his eyes.

"I'm a freak right?" He asked. Steve was just here to rub his nose in it, call him a tranny and move on like everyone else.

Steve stepped forward and placed both his hands softly onto Eddie's face. He pulled the other boy in soft and made him look into his eyes.

"No. I-I love you." He smiled timidly at the older boy. Eddie’s face rose and a small soft grin washed over his face.

@buggylad

#fanfiction #fanfic #stranger things #steve harrington #Eddie Munson #trans eddie munson #queer steve harrington #queer eddie munson #internalized transphobia

[zomberellaarts]

•Spell of Exile•

He walked through the corridor,

calling her name with no response.

He felt like he was playing a one sided game

of Marco Polo.

-Shiloh-

~Silence~

-Shiloh-

~Silence~

He came to a most magnificent garden,

That flourished with the most beautiful flowers he had ever

Seen.

Across the way he saw a glorious marble fountain,

And there he saw her sitting on the ledge of the fountain.

He walked up to her,

He could feel a sad aura around her,

It concerned him.

He reached out a hand and touched her shoulder

She became startled then looked upon him.

-Will why are you here?

-I've been looking for you?

-Why?

-I've been so worried, you've not been yourself lately....

He reaches for her,

She pulls away.

-What's the matter with you?!?

-I'm FINE!

He knew she wasn't fine,

He knew something was hurting her

Deep inside her soul,

He could see her heart breaking.

-You're not fine Shiloh,

I can see your soul hurting,

You're heart is breaking right in front of

Me as we speak!

She weeped loudly her head fell,

He could see the river of tears streaming

From her face,

She whispers.....

-You don't care

He looked at her in disbelief,

He couldn't believe what he just heard.

How could she feel he didn't care,

Of course he cared,

Doesn't he?

-How can you say I don't care? That's ridiculous!

He grew angry the more that phrase repeated in his head.

She looked up at him,

Her eyes bloodshot and red,

Sadness was still there.

But he could now see pure hatred and anger flash through her eyes.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

He felt the wind kick up in the flow of her anger.

He stood up,

The wind whipped her hair around in a maddening but angelic way,

Her eyes were piercing like they were daggers ripping through

His soul.

-You have no idea what its like to think how I do, feel like I do,

You have no fucking idea!

She began to cry

-You cant imagine the torture I go through.

-Oh really like what?

-How about all the times I cared for you, thought of you before myself, what about all

The past bullshit pain you've put me through, but I still stupidly came back each damn

Time cause I still care about your selfish ass!

He scoffs,

How could she think he didn't care and surely he never treated her so cruelly like

Shes yelling about.

-You're so full of it Shiloh, I think you need to calm down and rethink things,

Cause you're over reacting quite a bit there hun.

-So if I'm over reacting then the way I feel about you mist be a over reaction too

Her voice became soft and he could see calm surround her.

He felt his heart grow heavy he wanted to hold her but he he knew

That would be unwanted by her.

The sky opened up and the rain came down in a light poetic scene.

-You cant imagine how someone can love you so much then just walk away like it

Was nothing. Then to have them toy with your emotion making you feel your important when

Really there was always someone else....there always is.

She paused a tears stream down her face as she continues.

-Im not saying I'm innocent in this I've had my faults but you had no right to

Open my heart like you did.

He grew enraged and interrupted her.

-Hold on that's far from true you opened up things I never thought I could feel let

Alone felt I deserved to feel as for the "other women" there really isn't one nore is there really one

Now. Im sorry I haven't been there Im sorry things have been less then normal but I'm scared too I'm

Trying to figure things out give me some kind of chance.....i swear Shiloh Ive never once forgotten about you.

The tone ended very sadly he felt anger but yet such sadness.

-I cared about you, put myself for you but when I needed you, you just suddenly never had the damn

Time......

-Now wait a minute that's.....thats not true, I just.....i don't know what to do.....

She began to cry that sad river of tears again,

His heart broke this time,

His face fell,

He knew he was responsible partly for her pain if anything a good majority.

-Ive loved you for so long,

Ive thought maybe you still loved me too, but then you changed, you started ignoring me,

Acting ashamed and embarrassed of me, all around you just seem like Im not wanted or want to be around. What did I ever do to hurt you? I know I'm emotional and can be irrational at times but for fuck sake I'm trying damn it!

He saw her tears, he saw the pain and the anguish on her face,

When he normally felt indifference and confusion, he felt guilt and despair,

He never realized the pain he caused her,

He took a step towards her.

-I'm......I'm so sorry. I.....i had no idea, I never realized all these feelings. I never meant for you to feel like this.i never meant for you to feel neglected, dirty, unloved, or even not cared about.

She looked up and saw for the first time in a long time he was crying, he fell to his knees and sobbed, he felt so guilty but at the same time angry with her for keeping it all inside for so long, she had no right no right at all.

-of course I care about you, how could you feel I don't? Yes of course your crazier then the mad fucking hatter somedays but for fuck sake, how could you ever feel I don't want you around?

She walked ip to him and lifted his head her eyes were sad but strong

-Just say goodbye and be on your way, nothing you say I trust as truth, the only thing for the both of us is exile from our lives, it's the best thing for the both of us.

He looked at her in disbelief he couldn't believe what he was hearing but he knew she was right. He stood up grabbed her and held her tight.

-Whatever you need I will do, I just want you happy that's all I've ever wanted.

-As for you too......

She pushed him away giving him one last look into his beautiful blueish green eyes.

-Till we met again-

She blew him a kiss.

-Till we met again-

He smiled at her, wishing it wouldn't be this way.

-Till the stars align and the moon dies out forget me, when the sun cant shine and the sea dries out forget me, till the days ends forget me, please forget me.

Suddenly memories flashed before his eyes, tears formed as each memory flashed, then just as quick they were gone.

-Who are you?

-No one important, im no one just a ghost of the past.

She disappeared leaving him standing there confused and unsure of what happened, but he couldn't shake the feeling he knew her. But knew he would see her again. When....he didn't know.

{Written: 1-20-20}

[Updated: 2-23-20] 

[humanful]

you absolutely knocked the wind out of me. i feel so weak. i miss who i was before i knew you. i cant believe you did this to me. i watched you hurt people around you and thought, “no, he won’t do that to me. not again anyway” but i was wrong. you did it once and you did it again but even more cruel. you know how hurt i am and you are not man enough to do anything about it. how can you continue going about your life knowing how much you broke my heart? do you think i wanted to leave you? do you understand that when i said i love you i meant it? could you not tell by the way i showed up for you through everything even when you treated me like fucking shit? it was psychological abuse, the way you told me you loved me but treated me the way you did. i do not deserve that. no one was forcing you to stay with me and i gave you plenty of chances to get out. why did you stay? because i did everything for you? did you actually love me? did you even like me? what was the point of that? you came into my life and made me feel so loved i was on top of the moon and then took it all away and made me feel fucking insane. you blame it on your depression and addiction but i have been at the lowest of lows, ripping my hair out in the hospital, begging nurses to give me medicine to kill me, and i still never would’ve treated someone the way you treated me. i have to sit here and remember all the empty promises and beautiful things you would tell me, but you get to forget cuz you were drunk and if you do remember you’ll drink it away but i’ll remember everything and wonder why i wasn’t good enough for you. and everyone says it doesn’t have anything to do with me, but you know me, i will blame myself. everyday it hurts more and it doesn’t even feel valid because of how short our time was together. but you and i both know the intensity of our time together and know that this is valid. i just cant believe you cant give me one final conversation. i won’t even let myself be fully mad at you because a part of me is convinced you’re going to die and i can’t stand the thought of being mad at you while you die. please don’t die. i don’t want that. i’m just afraid cuz you’re so reckless. what i want is for you to get help and be happy. that’s truly what i want. but i cant lie and say that i don’t hope you’ll call eventually. the worst part is i still love you with all my heart even after all of this shit.

#g #mine #things i’ll never get to say to you

[nadtrd]

Open heartbreak letter

After having my heart ripped out of my chest I feel as if I cannot do anything. I cannot breath properly, I cannot sleep properly and I cannot get myself to eat properly. When I say I cannot, I mean it. I have been trying to take proper breaths, but they just feel painful. I have been trying to sleep properly, but waking up in a pool of tears and having my chest hurting is not really helping. I am fully aware of the fact that I have to eat, but I cant physically get myself to do it.

---

I have the wish to dig myself into a dark hole and not think about anything or see anyone. I want the easy way out, and I do not want to feel anything. I am so very tired of needing to be strong all the time and having to push through the pain. I am tired of picking myself up after someone else has broken what used to be a whole version of myself. Why do I have to be strong all the time? Why can I not just be and be loved? Am I not deserving of it, or am I just not lovable? After giving other people my all and trying the best I can to be open I sit here in the end feeling exhausted and empty. All the energy that I have inside of myself have been dealt out, and I am left with nothing for myself.

...

For an ending, I would like to motivate myself in some way. I know that it will all be okay. I know that I am deserving and lovable. I know that one day someone will come along and treat me good. I know that the pain will go away, and that I will look back at this and be fine. Right now, there is nothing that can be said to make it feel better, I just need time. I will be hurt more and maybe worse in the future, but right now I need to deal with the pain that he dealt me. I know that I am worthy and that I am someone that other people can see good in. I see it in others, and I see it in myself. We will be okay. I will be okay. Everything will heal and come to one in the end. I just have to be there for it.

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

Dave: how high was i last night

Rose: You forgot what milk was and called it “cereal water”.

#OK STORYTIME SO I FEEL LIKE A BUNCH OF YOU KNOW IN YOUR HEARTS THAT IM AT LEAST A LITTLE BIT OF A STONER #if you thought this then i need to tell you. you are WRONG #i have smoked ONCE and it is FUCKING gross and i dont LIKE IT #and also im never doing it again cause heres a fun story #bane has a whole bong in his room. a whole bong. idk when he got it but like Hes Got It #bane ripped the bitch once and he was ZOOTED bro he had to go in the bathroom to make sure he didnt cough smth up #another friend ripped once and straight up passed out fell asleep #and one friend is like. super lightweight i guess and she was just breathing the *air* and she got loopy. #and they all talked about how tingly they were (even friend 2 before he fell asleep) and i was like ok bet. lets fuckin try it #i had like. 3 panic attacks just Holding The Item . like i dissociated several times and id just be like staring down the pipe #bane had to light the shit AND lift the little thingy for me and i had to force myself to breathe #first of all it tasted like i licked a fucking car tire SECOND of all i hit it FOUR TIMES #FOUR TIMES!!!!!!! and i didnt feel SHIT for like TWENTY MINUTES #and im sitting there literally mentally fine like nothing has changed and im on my laptop and suddenly i feel like im turning to stone #and i cant move my shit. like theres this pressure on my body and its spreading like i looked into the eyes of fucking medusa herself #i literally went catatonic. i literally went physically catatonic and i had to like. fight to not hold my breath and keep talking #and i got over it pretty fast but i looked it up to see iF THAT WAS NORMAL and like. its a thing yeah cannabis-induced catatonia exists #TURNS OUT IT HAS TIES THAT CAN LEAD UP TO CANNABIS-INDUCED PSYCHOSIS SO LIKE #LMAO I DONT THINK IM EVER DOING THAT AGAIN #moral of the story is just. be careful when you try shit? dont do anything stupid and use your head #see i knew there was an underlying reason i didnt like all the stoner dave headcanons. its cause i just do not vibe with weed #homestuck #incorrect homestuck quotes #submission #ahyesthescalenetriangle #mod dave #dave strider #rose lalonde #drugs ment #drug ment