#but its something i just Knew i knew it was true

[angelsheartts]

Hi!! I was wondering if I could request the “hope nobody will catch us!” prompt for Angel dust x gn! reader too? Thank you love!!❤️❤️

✩‧₊˚ I HOPE NOBODY CATCH US !! .

(but i kinda hope they catch us, anyways)

#pairing: angel dust, husk, velvette, lute x gn reader

#cw: suggestive content, +18 mdni, cuss words Imao, getting caught in suggestive situations ig?? adam being adam on lutes part, drunk sex?, kind of only fans on velvettes part ngl.

#notes: just got back from vacation, and i do feel kind of inspirational to write on my blog lmao, so here it is! second part of "i hope nobody catch us". did anyone noticed it’s the lyrics from les - childish gambino?

PART l

˖ ˚ ༘✶ ANGEL DUST .

well, it’s kind of ironic how angel dust would actually care if someone would see you both fucking, but it’s just because he actually wants to have something intimate with you, not just some porn video where you both need to act.

today, valentino had given your partner finally a day off, so you both decided it would be the best to spend it together.

as you both were cuddling in his bed, you somehow started teasing him by confessing how you watched one of his adult videos, and how much it had turned you, so it wasn’t a big surprise how you ended having him on top of you.

"that’s kinky for you to say, but keep going" angel dust said, smirking at you while already having your underwear aside "well, at first i saw how you went down on them, and-" suddenly fat nuggets was on the bed looking at you both.

yeah, so after seeing your kid staring at you both, it really made the atmosphere so not hot.

˖ ˚ ༘✶ HUSK .

i mean, husk, and you do have a pretty regular intimate life cause this man is sooo touch starved, but there’s something different about being drunk and intimate to him.

you knew you both had maybe a few more drinks than usually, but that wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

wrong, as soon as you started to feel the alcohol doing its thing, you soon started to feel horny too.

but, who could judge you? seeing your bartender boyfriend also with the same flushed face as you was so hot, you somehow ended on top of the counter, while having your boyfriend kiss your neck.

"Oh, for fucks sake, and everyone says im the perverted one?"

yeah, hearing angel dust words made you both stop, but it didn’t make you stopped once you reached your bedroom.

˖ ˚ ༘✶ VELVETTE .

your girlfriend being a famous influencer in hell wasn’t something new to you, but as soon as you both started dating, you didn’t expect her to literally get sent sex toys for you both to try out and recommend or give your review about it.

your girlfriend was doing a live on her sinstagram, when you unexpectedly entered the room in the lingerie she just bought you just a few days ago.

of course, she had to end her livestream by saying a lame excuse to pamper your needs, and what the best way to do that with testing the vibrator who got sent to her for a review.

"velvette, ah- it‘s too much, i‘m going to cum" while sitting on her lap and putting your arms around her neck, you both suddenly heard velvettes phone vibrating like crazy, turns out she never ended her livestream and all hell just saw how needy you were for her.

after really ending the live, let’s just say that the vibrator you used got most-sold-sex-toy of the month.

˖ ˚ ༘✶ LUTE .

your girlfriend is somehow always occupied with something that isn’t you, so you might of have your ways to have her attention.

even though your girlfriend is an exterminator, you both sometimes ended up working together.

so, if dragging her near a closet to have her all for yourself was bad, then what you wanted to do in there with her would be worse.

"(name), it’s not appropriate, and adam is gonna be here anytime soon" lute said, staring at your face with her mask "yeah, yeah you say that every time, but you know how it always ends"

and yes, it was true, your girlfriend knew your true intentions when you dragged her into the closet, but still, she had a kinky side where she liked doing things you weren’t supposed to.

not to mention how hot you looked when you tried to be the dominant one.

"fuck, you're already so wet, huh? is it because you like getting me in trouble or because you want me to punish you?" she said, rubbing her fingers near your clit faster each time, "ah, lute-! keep going" "you’re a fucking mess, answer my questi-"

"DANGERTITS? bullshit, why the fuck didn’t i come sooner? legit thought you didn’t have sex, but you know what? this can get pretty awesome if i joi-“

adam did in fact not join you both, but he did make lute clear that "you both needed the original dick to even come" - adams words.

#hazbin hotel #angel dust x reader #hazbin hotel angel dust #husk x reader #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel velvette #velvette x reader #hazbin hotel lute #lute x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader

[ennabear]

I'm begging you to write about mean!abby and reader finding a kitten in one of the buildings, Abby not letting her save the kitten but reader cries all night so Abby HAS to go back and get the kitten...

a/n: plsss this is so cute 😭 thanks for the request baby ilysm and i may or may not have written too many about this 🤗💗💗

daily click / boycott tlou / help these families evacuate / free palestine

abby wasn’t mean necessarily, just very strict. she knew you even better than the back of her hand, and she liked that you depended on her for everything.

hungry? ask abby to make something for you. tired? good, it’s almost your bedtime, don’t want you being cranky in the morning. can’t reach something? better go get abby to grab it for you.

so when you saw that poor kitten while walking back to your apartment, you knew you had to ask her for it. it started with you just hearing a few pleading mewls before turning around and seeing it toddling toward you.

“aww, abs, look! it’s a little kitten!” your smile growing. you were met with a cold “hmm.” from abby. “can we take it home?” you asked. “absolutely not. we don’t have room for an animal.” it was partially true. your apartment wasn’t huge, but it was a comfortable size, and you were moving soon anyways.

ignoring her, you picked it up and continued strolling beside her, cooing at it’s small size and adorable face. “did you not hear me? i said put it back.” she snapped. “don’t call it an ‘it’, abs. i think it’s a girl.”

she glared at you, unamused. “now.” you walked over to a small corner and placed her down, giving her a final pet as your eyes welled up. even if you couldn’t keep her, you at least hoped you’d see her again. maybe it would become a neighborhood cat that everybody mutually loved, everyone except abby.

you didn’t talk to her the rest of the walk home, which was short, or even meet her gaze. although you understood that she only ever tried to look out for you, sometimes she was too strict. you went to bed that night without even returning a kiss, too angry at her, too worried about the poor kitten all alone outside. scared, cold, hungry.

these thoughts continued to plague your mind, eventually causing tears to collect. you hid your face in abby’s chest and sniffled, trying not to start sobbing. “baby?” she asked, “are you alright?”

“abs… that poor kitty. it doesn’t even have a family.” you were crying now. “w-what if it gets too cold, or it gets h-hit by a car.”

abby frowned at your words. “it won’t, honey. it’s already survived this long, it can go a few more nights before someone else picks it up.”

“but it’s n-not supposed to survive on its own. someone probably left it there to die.” you were sobbing, too.

“well, we’re not taking it home. i’m sorry, hate me all you want but we don’t have time or space for a pet.” you didn’t understand how she could be so mean. you cried even harder at this, hoping, praying the cute little guy survives. you cried into her chest until eventually, sleep took you.

abby had other plans. she didn’t know you’d instantly get so attached to that cat, and she hated that now you were crying because of her. she only wanted to do what was best for you, but there was no winning this battle.

once she was sure you were asleep, she slid her shoes back on and headed outside, hoping it was stills there, even more that there was only one. to her luck, the kitten was still there, instantly jumping up and waddling toward her. it’s meows seeming louder than earlier, like it recognized her or something.

she picked it up with two hands, trying not to hold it too close in case she changes her mind about wanting to keep it. slowly, she tiptoed back inside, trying her hardest not to wake you.

her fingers raced to ask google every question she had about caring for it. things like what to feed a baby kitten or where to get kitten milk replacer or how do baby cats stay warm at night? after finding what she needed, she put the kitten in an old shoebox and carried it out to the car.

surprisingly, the kitten didn’t seem to hate the drive, it was mostly just excited to be out of a big, scary parking lot. she put the car in park, and swore to herself that she would take no longer than 10 minutes in the store.

12 minutes later, she’s back with a syringe, a tin of kitten milk replacer, a heating pad, a litter box, and a water bowl. the kitten peeks up at her after she opens it just to check in. it meows and tries to grab her hand, but she closes it too quickly and drives back home.

when you wake up, you’re surprised to see that abby is still in bed with you. usually she’s at the gym, or if not, she’s definitely started her day by this time. with hands on her sides, you roll her over to cuddle with you. “abs,” you whisper into her neck, “why are you still here?”

“i had a long night.” she responded. “and i’m sorry i made you cry, i promise the cat will be fine.”

you completely ignored the second part, “long night? no you didn’t.” how could she have had a long night? she was in bed with you the whole time, right?

“go look on the kitchen table, silly girl.” so you did. you yawned and put on your slippers, making your way out of the bedroom.

on the kitchen counter you found an old shoebox, a heating pad with a temperature remote attached to it, a soft hand towel, and a sleeping gray kitten.

tears threatened to spill again as you felt abby’s arms wrap around you, her head snuggling into your neck and whispering “surprise.”

#guys mean!abby is kinda cute ngl #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson fluff #the last of us

[tadpoles-and-daydreams]

I feel the need to say something. Whether that's because someone might need to hear it, or I just need to get it written down, I don't know and likely never will. Be warned that this post might come across as a little vent-y despite that not being its purpose.

Moral of this post in case you don't want to read it all; the gods are patient. They are kind. Sometimes, in ways you don't expect.

Currently, I am overthinking something. Badly. I can feel it boiling over, and at first I tried to keep it hidden from Loki because I deemed it cringe or bad. Unlovable in some way. (even though I make a point to never label anyone else cringe, this label is often applied to me when I feel self deprecative.)

Eventually I just gave up, because I figured they'd already seen it, and I admit I vented about it. They sat with me and listened, and I could feel that he's just... Distraught. Horrified that I think this part of me is unworthy of existing. He hates that I won't let him help, either.

But the reason I say that the gods are patient is this; I have yet to do a reading about it. I don't allow much in the means of direct communication when I'm talking about it, because I "could just be imagining it" and no matter what stance they take it's either what I want to hear or what I'm afraid of. Both of which I could see myself imagining.

Loki WANTS to help. I can feel him getting antsy, kind of. I almost finally grabbed my cards to do a reading with him tonight, but I'm too tired right now and, admittedly, I'm procrastinating. This is something I am actively beating myself up about, and Loki could absolutely be cruel. They could be my worst fucking nightmare. I know they won't, logically, but emotions are not often logical.

And yet they wait. They're sitting with me right now, I can feel it- and they're going to give me all the time I need. They're a deity, they have all the time in the world. If this were a human friend, and I had vented about this but not been willing to listen to their opinions, I know damn well I would not be given the time I need to prepare myself for that conversation. But Loki isn't human. So they wait until I can pick up those cards and face the fear head-on.

I'm reminded of someone saying that Loki will push you to be far more than you ever knew you could be. I think that's true. But I also think that there's something to say about how patient they are, just... Letting us grow ourselves, walking alongside us while we're fucking terrified, and understanding that these things don't happen overnight.

#witchcraft #paganism #witchblr #pagan #pagan witch #witch community #deity work #eclectic pagan #paganblr #witch blog #loki #loki deity #norse loki #loki devotee

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Could I get an Hc for how the M6 would react to an Mc that finds out they used to eat a lot of weird creatures and monsters.

I may be obsessed with delicious in dungeon, but like maybe Mc got to try dragon meat and realized that despite it being an 'exotic' food, it tastes familiar. Only gets more surprised. The more weirder foods they end up trying that rnd up tasting familiar.

The Arcana HCs: M6 when MC eats monsters

Julian

From a scholarly point of view, he's actually quite interested in learning more and documenting your finds as medical research

Who knows what medicinal properties these creatures might contain that have gone previously ignored? You could find some miraculous cure or random medicine if you keep snacking your way through the monstrous ecosystem!

Then again, he'd be lying if he said that practice was just as easy as theory. He's pretty well traveled himself, but some of the things you seem so eager to dig into are just ... so ... off-putting

He'll push through with most things but he will draw the line at anything resembling a plague beetle. He was force-fed one of those once and he never wants to experience that again

(he'd never try to keep you from making your own decisions, but to say that watching you eat things resembling plague beetles doesn't turn his stomach and make him anxious would be a lie)

Still one of the best researchers you could have helping you

He's got the background to understand physical nutrients and the importance of a diverse diet - and he's plenty dedicated to you

Asra

They are even more enthusiastic than you are

Sometimes you wish you knew what his limits were, because if things keep going at the rate that they are you might find out that he doesn't even have any

Faust is not helping either - she can and will help distract you if you've finally come across something you're hesitant to try so Asra can sneak a mouthful without being caught

On the plus side, they've tried so many different cuisines already that they have plenty of ideas when it comes to figuring out how to cook something new - and spice combinations you wouldn't dare dream of on your own

He also happens to have plenty of tried-and-true remedies for food poisoning as well (wonder why he learned all of those ...) and is more than happy to share with you if things go south

Absurdly creative with the whole cooking process in general

Keeps trying to incorporate magic. This does occasionally backfire when the beast being cooked is also magical by nature, and the two don't mix as intended

Nadia

She's politely unconvinced, but still mildly invested

Is she personally interested in trying all manner of unconventional dishes? Sure, if it's a well-established recipe from a trustworthy source and contributes to her cultural education

Your recipes, darling MC, do not cleanly fit into that category

She'll still try some, but only after you've been able to replicate the dish multiple times to the point that it's reliably delicious and safe to eat. Otherwise, she'll happily pass her portion to you

However, once you do find a creature that can be reliably cooked as part of a nutritious diet, she is all ears

Do you know what the state of Vesuvia is right now? Any new food source is a welcome food source, especially if it's a resource that isn't being tapped into otherwise. Tell her more about its properties

Will work with you and other nutritionists, chefs, and civil engineers to find a way to introduce it to the populace so they can take advantage of it

Who knows? Maybe if it's popular enough, it can be purposefully cultivated and turned into a major food export ...

Muriel

Not remotely surprised by your habits, for multiple reasons

For starters, he spent his teens living with Asra. In the woods. Who do you think came up with all those natural remedies for food poisoning??? Not the kid picking every mushroom they saw!

Second of all, he lives off of the land himself. The reason his grocery list is so short is because he's learned to find most of his sustenance in the woods around him. You're just doing the same

Third of all (and most importantly) - if it's food, it's food. It's that simple

Will eat anything you hand him as soon as he knows it won't poison him, no hesitation in sight and no further questions asked

His only concern about the whole thing is sustainability. He knows firsthand what happens when something throws the delicate balance of an ecosystem out of whack and he wants to make sure that doesn't happen on accident because you're new to it

Never really stops to appreciate any of the good flavors at first, but eventually develops a palette for the different spices

Insanely good at assessing what kind of nutrients it'll have

Portia

Being an excellent chef herself, she doesn't see much point in eating mostly monster food once the initial excitement has worn off. It was fun for several meals, but now she wants bread

This does not change her general fascination with monsters or magical beasts in general, though, or her overall interest in helping you on your special monster cuisine endeavors

Share the monster facts - all the monster facts

Will work with you on putting together notebooks full of information on monster behaviors, nutritional values, hunting and preparation methods, and ideal flavor profiles

Unrivaled at giving good cooking advice. The meat's good to eat, but too tough? Marinate it in something acidic

It's too spongy to be a starch, but too starchy to be a vegetable? Try roasting or grilling it plain and putting sauce on top

Knows all about how to maximize the "scraps" so that nothing edible goes wasted, and knows how to do it in a way that still tastes good and fills you up

Curious enough to try most of it, smart enough to avoid poisoning

Lucio

Okay, okay, so he'll admit it - he does get squeamish (just a little bit) at the thought of eating the monsters that tried to kill him earlier and he's not particularly fond of revisiting the "eat or be eaten" mentality that was instilled in him as a small child

That said, he is curious

And he very much enjoys all the hunting (and bounties!) involved

You're telling him that he gets to chase down a rare beast, enjoy the thrill of conquering it and the bragging rights that entails, get paid for disposing of it, and then get a free meal after he forgets about it for a couple hours? Sign him up!

Just, uh. Just don't remind him what exactly he's eating if it's from one of the grosser monsters. Devouring a deadly ancient boar? Awesome! Devouring a worm monster? ... yeah, don't ruin it

Has no issues with putting more resources into what you're trying to do. It means free food, bragging rights about killing and eating monsters, and dinner not getting dull and boring

Will not-so-subtly feed anything he doesn't like to Mercedes and Melchior when he thinks you can't see him

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Three

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Another update this week?? I'm as shocked as anyone else, but hopefully this one will make up a little for the last! It's longer and a little less, um, idk, I can't say emotional?? because that would be a lie:/ Still, there are some developments! Also, it'll make sense a lot later but the 2nd image and the use of a Ride song are used in this one!

Hope you enjoy! Also thank you for all the love on this current series, it means a whole lot and keeps me writing xx

Warnings: similar to that of the last post! so pls look back there if you'd like to know!:)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

“I said no.”

Stressed was a feeling beyond words at this point. The past couple of days all I’d had was press hounding at me, calling and texting, emailing at all hours of the fucking day. They wouldn’t let up, even after I’d stayed silent. Adi reckoned it was mostly down to Teddy’s involvement in the whole thing. I didn’t want to think much more about it, although I knew she wasn’t wrong.

“Give me a reason at least?"

I shot a scathing glare over my shoulder before turning back to the filing system I’d taken to reorganising. It was my first morning back at the studio since... yeah, well Finn had Teddy- another factor to my current load of stress- whilst Adi was off doing something or other. I hadn’t asked, fearful of putting more of a strain on her current friendship- relationship??- with Ross, so instead I’d just chosen to tidy and rearrange the entire setup we had going on here. Because that was perfectly normal. And not a fucking way to evade talking or thinking about the mess that was my life. Okay?

“I don’t need a fucking reason, I just don’t want to.” I retorted, hissing slightly when I suddenly cut my thumb on the edge of a document. I withdrew my hand quickly and raised it towards my mouth, letting my eyes slip close for a moment when I heard a footfall step closer.

“Let me see.” Jamie sighed, probably thinking I’d done something worse to my hand than just a papercut. To be fair, the cabinet was old. One of them filing types from the ninety’s that we’d gotten for a score down at some boot sale, so I wouldn't be surprised if one of us did eventually end up losing an arm.

I shook my head and pushed the cabinet drawer closed, “It’s fine, just a papercut.”

Jamie huffed an amused chuckle before settling down on the edge of the desk nearby. It was Adi’s, you could tell from the sheer amount of shit she had accumulating it.

“One thing after another with you.”

My head tilted towards him with a deadened expression, “Ha ha.”

The older man raised his hands up in a mocking surrender, showing he hadn’t meant any real harm. “Too soon?”

I kicked at the toe of the leather boots he wore in retort as I moved towards the kitchenette, aware that he was just trying to lighten my horrendous mood but not really in the right mind for it. 

“You want a brew?” I asked, not bothering to give him an honest reply to that question of his. Too soon? Yes, that was all too fucking true.

“Have a coffee if there’s one going.”

I dipped my head in a slight nod, filling the kettle and setting it to boil before snagging the coffee often reserved for guests on the show from a shelf nearby.

Jamie moved to better face me on Adi’s desk as I did so, wearing that same expression he’d turned up in, all concerned and weary. It bothered me a bit, seeing as though it was all I had garnered since the press had had their field day with my life, but I could also understand why. They all just seemed to feel for the idiot stupid enough to fall into another of Matty Healy’s traps.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” He wondered around a light chortle at my demand, hands falling to rest between his thighs.

I gestured towards his face whilst I poured a splash of milk into my mug, “Looking at me like that, like I’m gonna break or something.”

With a sigh, he pressed his lips together. “You know it’s not like that.” I rolled my eyes in return but he just bounded on, “You know it’s not, I just care is all.”

I forced out a breathless chuckle, “That why you’re here trying to get me to hear him out then?”

To be fair to him, Jamie had come right out with it when he’d first popped by, having messaged me asking after my whereabouts earlier this morning. I’d told him, having spoken to him quite a bit over the last couple days, and then found him on the doorstep. 

Jamie had been good with everything. He’d let me vent, rally against one of his friends and clients, question his own motives- and hadn’t even complained one bit. But now he was here asking me to give Matty a chance, a lot like he’d done that first time around in that small cafe all those months ago.

“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be.”

“Of course I’m fucking angry!” I immediately shot back at him, the rattle of the teaspoon ringing out as I dropped it into a mug, “I wouldn’t care if it had just been me he’d gone and fucked over! But he brought Teddy into this shit, Jamie. My son! So tell me, how am I supposed to hear him out after he’s done something like that and then lied about it? For weeks, mind you.”

Jamie looked back at me, wearing that ‘this meant business’ mug of his. I slumped at the sight, pressing my knee against one of the lower cabinets to continue stirring the drinks. I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Mouse.”

My eyes slipped closed at his words and I took a second to just breathe. Because I wasn’t angry, not really. I was hurt and humiliated, and just so fucking sad. Fed up with it all, if I was being honest. Enough so that I knew that Jamie was being truthful here- and not just because it was a fact that I hadn’t spoken to Matty since things had fallen apart, but also because I hadn’t had the heart to ask Teddy about things yet. Or if ever.

The kid was four. Four, and asking after a man every night before he fell asleep and then as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning.

He knew something was up, he was smart like that. But what was I meant to do- to say? When I was just as confused as he was.

I’d ended up leaving him with Finn today, having had no other choice in the situation because the nursery was closed for an inset day, or some shite like that, and it seemed I had no other friends than the few around me. 

Could quite literally count the lot of them on one hand. 

But still, Finn and I’s relationship had still been rather rocky after that whole incident with him and Matty, and hadn’t improved since. In fact, he’d been a little unbearable about everything, always one to toot his own horn whenever he was right about something. But it was always slyly and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was a constant dig, like even when he wasn’t commenting on it he was still thinking it whenever he looked at me.

Which felt so horrible to think, let alone say out loud. He was my best friend. So I’d kept my mouth shut and just dealt with it, like I did everything else in life.

“He’s messed up about it.” Jamie then spoke, his voice having startled me a tad, breaking me out of my musings. He was watching me again, only when he did it, it didn’t feel as condescending as everyone else's. Like he understood my position. And I guessed that he probably sort of did.

“I bet.” I scoffed quietly, an airy titter escaping through my nose, and then I turned to toss my teabag away.

“It’s true.” Jamie shrugged, then nodded in thanks when I pushed a coffee his way. “He’s been ‘round Ross’s ever since shit hit the fan, hasn’t left the flat. Driving the lot of us mad, but he’s torn up, Mouse.”

Tongue in cheek, I wrapped my hands around my cup and propped my hip up against the counter, staring into the still swirling liquid. “Serves him right, I guess.” I replied with a soft shrug of my own, though we both knew I didn’t quite mean it.

Jamie looked over towards one of the windows to the right, most of them were either way too long or too tiny for the space, an odd build, but this particular one gave way to the skyline lying over the remainder of the city. I often wondered what the lower levels might look out at, thinking it was probably the majority of the surrounding buildings, and couldn’t help but feel a little thankful that we’d managed to snag this unit.

When he glanced back over at me, I took a sip and let him speak.

“A lot went on, that much I know, and it’s your choice how you deal with it. But, I saw the two of you. I saw him change. Which is stupid to say, I know, but it doesn’t stop it from being true. He was different with you, he actually tried in other aspects of his life and not just with the band and the music. He looked genuinely happy.” He smiled softly at the eye roll I gave, but it didn’t appear to deter him. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you didn’t fucking cure him. Don’t work like that, does it? But you helped. You and Teddy both.”

I looked away then, back towards the window, unable to really help it, and instead allowed my eyes to trail over the clouds which powdered the dusty blue sky. 

“It was different. Things were different, and I know that there was love there. There couldn’t not have been. The way he looked at you…” Jamie shook his head ever so slightly as he breathed out, unaware of just how deeply his words had cut. But then he peered over at me and I found myself already looking back, air caught somewhere in the swell of my lungs. 

“Don’t.” I choked out, the grip on my mug having tightened tenfold. “Just,” I shook my head.

Jamie put his coffee down on the desk and moved to stand, hands raised to convey he wasn't a threat. “I’m not saying this to hurt you more, love. Just telling you how I saw it.”

I licked at my lower lip, casting my eyes downwards. Our silence stretched and all could be heard was the odd car horn and chirp from beyond the walls of the studio, until-

“Anyone here?”

I blinked back the tears which had started to well in my eyes and sniffed, head shooting up just in time to spot a familiar giant ducking their head under the beam of the doorway, limbs following right after.

George entered but then stopped short when he spotted his manager stood by me, and I laughed to myself at the way the pair of them seemed to eye one another, before stepping in, “Didn’t hear you ring the buzzer.”

Kind eyes darted over to find my soft smile then, welcoming him in, and so George finally moved in closer, laying the jacket he wore to rest over one of the armchairs.

“Yeah, someone was just leaving and let me in.” He answered my unasked question, shrugging as he added, “Dunno whether they recognised me or if they just let anyone up.”

“Probably the second,” Jamie piped up, seemingly having broken himself from his previous bout of surprise, “This lot ‘round here don’t give much of a shit about crap like that.”

I rolled my eyes, but was glad to have a reason to smile slightly. “Or they spotted the BFG making his way over and wanted to avoid pissing him off.”

Jamie cackled whilst George just shot me a narrow-eyed look, “Hilarious. That pot just boiled?” He asked me as he wandered over. I nodded in turn and moved to grab him a cup, only faltering when he lowered my hand with his own and shook his head. “I got it.”

I dipped my head slightly, blinking before taking a step back to let him work. He made a quick go of it, rummaging around the cupboards briefly to find what he needed and only asking for the spoon I still held for some odd reason when he was near done. 

Jamie appeared to have been watching him too, a calculating glaze to his eyes, and he chose that next moment to speak up, “How you been anyway, George? Not seen much of you lately.”

Something unspoken passed between them when George glanced over at him, but I couldn’t tell what.

“Good, busy.” Was what the taller decided on, throwing Jamie a quick smile when he crossed to toss his own teabag in the bin before settling on the counter to the left of me. “You?”

It almost sounded sarcastic, not how he said it but simply because he’d asked it at all, knowing everything that had recently occurred. It must have been a right nightmare for Jamie these last few days, what with him being the band’s main man.

Jamie just laughed though, goodnaturedly, though it was apparent that he was still trying to suss out what was going on, what with George’s sudden appearance. Seeing as I’d never once mentioned him to Jamie.

See, things with George had all started after that studio session Teddy had attended, followed by my wishing him a happy birthday just before Matty had gone and done what he did best. Wrecked it all.

Teddy had become all too smitten with the drummer since he’d first been introduced to the band and their many songs and music videos. He enjoyed the guitar he’d been gifted an awful lot, often playing with it and practising, but each time any sort of song played on the tele or the radio, or even in the car, it wasn’t hard to note the way Teddy instantly mimicked George’s swift movements, pretending to drum along to whatever beat heard. 

George had messaged me on Instagram later that same day, seeing as how apparently Teddy’s appearance at the studio had stuck with him, and asked after him a little. It seemed strange worded like that, but George reckoned that Teds had a real streak of a musicality about him, even as young as he was, and wanted to see if Teddy would be up for learning some more. 

Which had been a Godsend, honestly, what with how the next couple of days had gone down. I’d given him my number via dm just before the storm had started and then the afternoon that had followed the plethora of articles he’d called.

He’d asked how I was at first, almost consoling me in that easy way of his, so full of little words, which had been all too refreshing in truth.

I’d had texts and calls off of practically everyone I knew, even Ronan, the utter prick. And none had managed to soothe me quite like George’s had, seeing as the man had been there too. Not quite in my position, sure, but near enough. He’d even let a little of it slip when he’d popped on over that same day, bringing a bag of takeaway and a roll up drum mat as a gift for Teddy, who had been cooped up with me on the sofa for most of the afternoon. 

The two of them had bonded over it rather quickly, Teddy having been caught off guard by George’s sincerity almost as much as I had been. But then I'd found myself getting to know the drummer too and very much appreciating the unnecessary gesture he’d made for me, even with the pair of us not knowing one another as well as we could have.

I had no idea what was going on between him and Matty, I hadn’t had the balls to ask, but he’d mentioned he hadn’t heard much of anything from him since the night of his party, as well as the fact that his girlfriend, Charli, had been just as annoyed with everything that had gone down.

I knew he’d be stopping by at some point today, we’d made plans to get lunch once he’d heard I was back at the studio on my own, but not recording. I reckoned he was concerned and this was his way of showing it, but it was hard to tell with him most of the time seeing as he’d made it out as though I was doing him a favour here. An effort I came to find I much appreciated. 

“Work, you know how it is.” Jamie replied after a long pause. He was still standing in the same position he’d been in since George arrived, but seemed to move then, picking up what was left of his coffee and pouring what remained down the sink. “But I’d best be going, got a couple calls to make. You gonna be at the studio tomorrow?”

George hummed around his next sip, pulling away with only a dip of his chin. “Should be.”

Jamie smiled, nodding, “Good, I’ll let the rest of them know then.”

I caught George’s slight wince at that, though he didn’t protest his manager's comment. It made me wonder.

Jamie turned to me then, shucking on his jacket. I perked up, not having realised that he really was rushing to leave now. “Remember what I said, alright?”

I blinked, but then nodded. How could I forget? I wanted to ask, but instead said, “You don’t have to head out so quick.”

He sent me a reassuring grin as he flipped over the collar of his coat. “You won’t miss me much,” He then teased before roping me into a hug, “Weren’t lying when I said I had a couple calls though, so it’s best I get out of your hair whilst I still can.” 

I smiled softly at the sound of his lighthearted chuckle and nodded before following him over to the door, “Stay safe.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, all too used to my typical parting now, though amused by it all the same. “Can’t promise anything.” He retorted with a smirk, shuffling over the threshold whilst his eyes flickered back to where George still stood once more. “So, about before?”

I inhaled shakily, though Jamie didn’t seem to notice, fingering the pockets of his jacket in search of his mobile. “I’ll think about it.” I told him.

He flashed me a grin at that, pleased, then let his heel trail over to meet the top step of the metal grating. “Talk to you later then.”

I nodded and watched for a second as he descended the staircase, head bobbing down the first set before he turned and disappeared from view. Sliding back inside, I shut the door quietly behind me, taking a second to steel my nerves before facing the room again.

During that time, George had seemingly gone and made himself comfy on the settee, his mug settled on a coffee table coaster. I moved to join him after putting both mine and Jamie’s cups under the tap to rinse before just leaving them to soak.

George was fiddling with something when I sat down beside him but shuffled over a tad to allow me to get more comfortable, “So what was that about?” I questioned.

“With Jamie?” He asked and I nodded, even though I reckoned he already knew what I was on about. 

He shrugged slightly and I noted the way his finger trailed over a slip of folded paper, it was creased as though it had been played or fiddled with a dozen times too many. My brow seemed to furrow at the sight of it. 

“He tried phoning a few times but I’ve not been too keen on answering, learnt that I’ll just get dragged into the drama if I do.” George finally answered, and for some reason I felt a wad of guilt pool in my stomach upon hearing it, even though I hadn’t been the one to cause this mess.

Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

“Sorry.”

George huffed as he turned to peer over at me, elbows resting on the tops of his knees. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He told me and then gifted me a sweet smile, “None of this is on you. Just thought we were in the clear, you know?” He looked away at that and his smile dimmed into something smaller, almost sadder. “Figured I wouldn’t have to go dodging my mates calls anymore, or be roped into cleaning up everyone else’s messes.”

He reached a hand out to settle on my knee then, probably having noticed the way I was chewing on the insides of my cheek, or maybe the fact that my lip was now trembling. I’d never felt so shitty. So at fault for something I hadn’t really seen coming, nor could I prevent.

“Not your fault, remember?” He reiterated to me, squeezing my joint softly before pulling away. I sniffed before looking up at him with a tiny smile. 

“Promise I don’t usually cry this much. Just been a shitty week is all.” I told him, laughing pitifully as I toyed with the hem of the jumper I’d put on earlier that morning when I’d purposefully avoided the hoodie that had been left on my desk chair, as well as the cupboard full of clothes that didn’t belong to me.

I felt the settee dip slightly before I found him sitting right beside me, lifting an arm to wrap me up in a hug. His cheek came to rest on the side of my head and I felt my heart break that little bit more, because it reminded me that in a second, or two, I wouldn’t have that sense of protection he now offered, shielding me from the rest of the world.

“You’ve been put through the wringer.” George murmured and I had to laugh just a little bit, he laughed too, the sound of it reverberating through his chest to where my head rested. “Fucking cry if you want to, alright? No judgement here."

I spluttered a little on my next chuckle, smiling as I wiped at my eyes. George’s arm just tightened its hold by a fraction, as though he knew it would make things that little bit easier. We both sat there like that for a while, and I appreciated the fact that he was okay with a bit of quiet. That he didn’t run scared from it or try to start up an awkward conversation simply to fill it.

Silence was something I’d come to realise that George often favoured. Because sometimes that was all you really needed.

I don’t know how long we continued like that before he shuffled and pulled that same piece of paper from earlier back into view, holding the corner of it between his forefinger and thumb. I pulled away slightly, looking down at it and then back up at him with a small frown.

“What?”

George merely blinked, staring down at the paper with an odd look before he finally placed it in the hand I had resting on my thigh. My frown only deepened.

“What is it?” I asked him, finger trailing over an edge just as he had done when I’d first spotted it. When I went to unfold it from the opposing corner, he stopped me. 

Confused, I turned to raise a brow at him, only to find him already looking back at me. He bit into his lower lip and then flattened his mouth into a stern line, “I found that when I was last in the studio.”

My chest tightened for some reason, but I was still so baffled. “Okay?”

We were sitting up better now, George’s arm having slipped from my shoulders to come to rest in his lap, fingers trailing over his left hand’s rigid set of knuckles.

“I figured you should see it.” He added in his usual drawl, though his eyes flickered up from the paper to catch mine then and I realised it must've been important. He seemed wary enough to warrant it.

I went to unfold it once again, but then his hand really reached out to stop my own, “I don’t know if I should be here when you do.”

That alone made me even more curious, although there was an edge of caution that now warred at me. “Why?”

George gifted me a gentle smile, the hand that still laid over top of my own squeezing kindly. “I’ll go grab us some food, alright? If you want to open it then do, if not. I won’t mention it again.”

He moved to stand then but my hand shot out to grab at the sleeve of his arm, “George.” But I didn’t know what else to say, I knew I was fearful though.

His fingers moved to meet mine, resting there for a short moment, “It’s your choice. Just, I couldn’t keep it from you.”

I swallowed thickly as he pushed to his feet, the scuff off his heavy boots bouncing off the hardwood floors. Slowly he moved to grab his jacket, giving me time to say no, to deny his offer. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do much of anything really.

The door shut behind him with a soft click a minute later and the quiet of the studio suddenly consumed me. When I glanced back down at the paper I held once more I saw the slight tremble of my hands. I forced myself to exhale, but even that was shaky.

I was careful as I unfolded it, listening to the rustle it made before scrawled lines that had bled through to the other side caught my attention. Pausing, I took a moment to just look at them and then thoughtlessly hurried to reveal the rest of it, taking in its full form. My throat tightened at the sight of familiar scribbles.

You had me from the start  Pulling all the stops out  On the down low, secretly  But I think you knew your psychology  Was working on me  Infatuated  And doing this all wrong  You've got  My number and my name  And you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going  Can I see you every day?  Do you love me  Like I love you?  Ah, you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going

(Song: Ride - Future Love)

It was as if something in me had shifted and then turned, sparking itself its very own flame on a bone too sharp and growing and growing until its singed edges burnt and blackened every part of me. 

I must've sat there staring down at it for ages. Crying silently and alone in an empty room, something I’d been avoiding doing since this had all started. Though I supposed it had been inevitable.

His words. His thoughts. Bared to me on a single page. Him none the wiser to any of it. Probably having not even realised it was gone, or missing. And George had read it. He’d seen it and still, after everything, had given them to me.

A tear dropped from my chin then, blotting the page and I could only watch on as the dark ink appeared to cling to it, seeping further and further into the paper. Smudging the ‘Do you love me’ enough so that my breath stuttered and I was suddenly moving all too quickly for my mind to catch up with my thoughtless actions.

Not even a second later my phone was in my hand. 

Messages now To: Jamie O (glasses!) When can he meet me? 

–

Matty had always had a thing for Sundays. 

There was just something about them. Not all that Godly shite that people preached about it being holy and the first day of the week, ‘cause to him Monday would always hold that title- and Monday’s fucking sucked dick. 

No, it was because there was just something peaceful that settled on Sundays, it took him back to simpler times, of days when he’d just been a kid and roast dinners were spent ‘round his nana’s house. Or when Newcastle would play on afternoons and his dad would finally be home to watch with him. 

There was just something about them, you know. He didn’t much believe in luck, typically only the bad sort. But if someone held a gun to his head and told him he had to claim a day which would forever work in his favour, it would just have to be Sunday.

Still, he was unsure on where he currently stood with that sentiment as of late. Seeing as how he was currently in the backseat of a cab, jittery hands clinging onto shaking knees whilst rows of houses, broken up by hues of green and blue, rolled on past him.

It hadn’t been a last minute thing, but it felt much like it. The anticipation was getting to him, he knew that much, sweat licking at the back of his neck whilst his shoulders worked their way up to the lobes of his ears.

Jamie had somehow managed it.

Called him up late last night just before Ross had headed off to bed to tell him that she would finally see him. Jamie’d asked if he’d be alright going alone or if they’d prefer a buffer there, but Matty had immediately declined. So he was doing it alone. Though he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a misstep on his part, if it would have made things easier on her having someone there, or maybe just given him some semblance of relief as the car slowly drove its way over to her house. The very place he hadn’t stepped foot in since the night of George’s birthday party.

But he hadn’t earnt that reassurance. Felt wrong to bring somebody else along either way. So he was stuck, toying with his phone, hoping or praying that a text wouldn’t come through saying that she’d gone and changed her mind.

It had been just under a week since he’d last seen her. But it felt as though time had dragged out slowly, mocking him or maybe even torturing him for all of his many wrongdoings. 

He fretted over what she might say when she caught sight of him, he himself having only spotted the state he’d worked himself into when he’d been getting ready that morning.

There were heavy bags set beneath his eyes from where he hadn’t really slept and his cheeks were hollowed in that way that they used to revert to when he’d have a particularly hard weekend way back when. If the papers caught wind of him he already knew what the first articles would say, what they would so obviously claim. But he knew the truth, just hoped that she would know it too.

He was startled from his mind at the jerk of the car pulling up onto the nearest curb. His eyes widened in sudden alarm when he realised just what that meant and then caught the look of dismay that crossed the driver’s face when the bloke looked back to announce that they’d arrived. If the man didn’t already think he was on something, then now he definitely did.

Matty swallowed stupidly and then tried for a smile, struggling to undo his seatbelt with the kickstart of shaking that overtook his hands. The driver took pity on him though, turning away to fiddle with something up front that probably didn’t need fiddling with, and finally Matty’s thumb managed to catch the button.

Releasing himself from the confines of the car, he paused just before the door could slam close behind him, handing the man a couple notes in tip, if only to apologise for his edgy behaviour or buy himself a little more time if the driver had somehow managed to suss him out even with his hat, hood and scarf. “Cheers.” He said.

The man blinked at the onslaught of cash and then nodded repeatedly, “Yes, thank you.”

Matty exhaled shakily and then dipped his chin in another goodbye, stepping back onto the curb and watching the cab pull away before he found himself alone once more.

This was it, he supposed.

The street hadn’t changed much in a matter of days but his mind made it seem as though it had. As though suddenly he didn’t belong. The odd man out.

He shoved his hands into the confines of his pockets, pivoting on his heel to face what he’d come here to do. But nothing had prepared him for the way his stomach suddenly bottomed out at the sight of her front door.

The sound of a car horn a way away spooked him, causing him to jump, but did eventually force him forward off the curb and onto the cracked pavement. He stared down at all the dips and curves they had to offer him the entire way up the path until finally, he reached her front steps.

If anyone asked, Matty would tell them it was as though he’d been working on autopilot when he pried the silver knocker up from the wood and let it rap twice. Though that would be an utter lie. His head screamed at him the whole while and his fingers blurred before him when he’d raised them up to grasp at the chilled metal. 

He’d never felt so sick, just standing there, the seconds slowly trickling into minutes, or perhaps even hours. It honestly felt as the day was slowly growing colder the longer that he stood there, staring at a coat of familiar paint, before finally hinges creaked and the door opened, revealing a sight that would’ve surely cured sore eyes, if only it hadn’t gone and broken his heart first.

It wasn’t immediate, the effect the past couple days had had on her. It was more in the way she held herself, the sadness which clung to her every fibre, the way she wouldn’t quite look him in the eye.

She stared, caught in a standstill, and for a long moment did nothing before silently and slowly she withdrew enough to allow him through.

Matty didn’t dare utter a word, let alone breathe. Careful to avoid brushing against her or stepping on her toes as he slowly crossed over the threshold to get in, though the hands he’d hidden in his coat pockets curled into fists to keep himself steady.

The first thing he noted upon first entering was the significant state of the flat, it wasn’t messy or untidy by any means, but looked nothing at all like a house typically inhabited by a child should, or at least a monster as chaotic as he knew Teddy to be. It was almost as though Mouse had been expecting a letting agent to pass through with a couple dozen couples, what with how clean it was. He almost reckoned that if he were to crouch down right there he’d probably be able to make out the seam of his jeans in the reflection of the floors.

“You can just hang your-”

“I know.” Matty whispered, not intentionally meaning to cut her off but unable to help himself anyway. 

It hurt, feeling as though he was just a guest in a place he had practically considered home not too long ago. He coughed lightly and shrugged off his coat to do so anyway, hanging it up where he usually did, something which made him pause for a split second, wondering whether this could possibly be the last time he’d have the privilege of doing so.

“Right.” Mouse murmured somewhere behind him, snapping Matty out of his thoughts. She stepped on by him just after, eyes trained on the end of the hallway until they reached the living room, “Erm, I’m just starting on a brew. You can wait here if you want.”

He wanted to follow after her, to fall down onto his knees and fucking sob there at her feet, but he was scared he’d dirty her floors or more than likely end up looking like a total knob. He would. Fucking felt like one just from thinking it. So he did as instructed, moving towards the sofa, taking note of everything and anything the room had to offer him. 

Matty’s eyes flickered over to the kitchen doorway when he realised she’d stopped there, fiddling with her nails before she caught him looking and dropped her hands. “Just realised I didn’t ask if you wanted anything.”

God, it was so fucking strained.

He took a short breath in and attempted to smile, “Tea sounds good.” Was all that he said, and watched on as her brow wrinkled, head tilting with it.

“Uh, I still have that coffee you like. The one you brought over, if you’d prefer.” She told him and he recognised her confusion for what it was, or maybe it was just her weariness over letting him know that his stuff was still where he’d left it. Or, maybe, just fucking maybe he was reading way too much into everything.

“Tea’s good.” Matty murmured, feeling a little less tense now that he knew that she was sort of sitting in the same boat. “But thanks.”

Her chest rose and fell with her next breath and he watched her nod with difficulty at him, still not meeting his eye. “Right, just be a sec then.”

She disappeared past the door with that, whilst he simply stood and listened to the run of the tap and then the flick of the kettle, feeling stupid for having missed something he hadn’t even realised he’d taken note of before. 

But that was just typical, wasn’t it? To miss something so mundane now that it was no longer expected.

Once he heard the clink of mugs Matty allowed his gaze to roam, trailing over the bundle of neatly folded throws settled on the wicker basket by the sofa, ones he knew that if Teddy was here would still be scattered all over the floor before the tv. 

There were a couple of coasters laid out on the coffee table, though the fruit bowl had since been removed, something he knew Mouse did whenever there were only a few pieces left or none at all. There would probably be grapes or something of the sort in the fridge though.

She had a couple of receipts left out on the shelf below the mirror she’d hung up on the wall when she’d first moved in, and the picture frames beside them were still the same. Only one was missing, and he knew which. 

He noticed that the candles over by the lamp were new though, expensive if he remembered rightly because he was sure that he’d spotted them round someone else’s place recently. He wondered briefly over who could’ve gifted them to her, knowing that she much preferred her usual scents, only ever splurging on the larger Yankee Candle jars they had to offer in the local Debenhams.

He found himself smiling at the thought.

It was then that she shuffled back into the room though, stalling his observations. She carried two mugs in her hand and a small plate loaded with biscuits on her forearm. Immediately Matty moved to help her, taking the plate from her even with knowing that she had it handled.

“I could’ve managed.” She murmured, though not unkindly, and then thanked him quietly once she’d gone and placed the mugs down. 

Matty followed her lead, settling the biscuits near the edge of the coffee table, between the two coasters, before fumbling for a second over where to sit. Squeaks seemed to take to one end of the settee so Matty perched on the other, though closer to the middle crease than the arm.

“You got hobnobs?” Matty finally asked, breaking the silence again, eyes flicking over to the plate he’d just held before shooting back over to find her.

She blushed faintly at his comment, then shrugged. “You like them, don’t you?”

Matty scoffed lightly, a soft smile limning his lips, “Yeah, but you hate them. Once claimed that they were like digestives only after being shat out.”

She wrinkled her nose at that, though Matty was quite sure he could spot the mirth that flickered across her face. “Want them or not?”

Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and knowing not to push it, he picked one up and settled in a little more comfortably into the sofa cushions.

The silence would’ve been almost unbearable if she hadn’t had the foresight to have turned the tv on low before he’d arrived. So whilst a documentary played on one of the many BBC channels, Matty struggled with himself to find the best thing to say. Though he needn’t have bothered, she was always one step ahead.

“So, I think I should start by saying that I um, I know I held a lot of expectations.” 

Almost simultaneously, Matty frowned.

She just wrung her hands together once before thinking better of it and laying them flat in her lap. Matty merely wished to reach out and take them in his own. “And I get that it must’ve been a struggle for you, to basically go from like one end of a scale and then jump right off the other side. But, I-”

“What are you on about?” Matty interrupted, unable to help himself in truth, so beyond baffled by the sudden speech she’d started. She stopped and blinked over at him, finally looking him in the eye. At last.

“What do you mean?” She retorted with a pinch between her brows, “Listen, I planned this all out, alright? So can I just get out what I want to say?”

Matty stared, then forced out a breath of air. “Squeaks,” She shuttered at the name, closing off slightly, enough so that Matty took quick note and wished he hadn’t said a thing, but yet, he still carried on. Desperate to save any blundered attempt he’d make. “Look, this weren’t on you. None of it was, okay?”

Her eyes trailed back over towards him at that, though her expression was almost unreadable. Matty struggled with that bit the most, he’d always been able to read her for the most part.

“So, this crap about expectations and me struggling with whatever idea you’ve made up in your mind is stupid.” Her eyes narrowed then and he watched her work her jaw, obviously none too happy about his retort. He withheld a heavy sigh, “I’m not- Look, I’m not trying to be difficult I’m just saying that- What I’m trying to say is, that every relationship has goals or expectations, that’s normal. But nothing you ever did forced me do what I did. That shit? It was all on me. It was me being insecure and scared, yeah? So, don’t go trying to excuse it. Because I’ve had people do that for me for far too fucking long now and hearing it come from you...” 

He sort of felt himself slump at that, a little bitter and resentful over the fact that she’d since come to think of it that way. As though his mistakes were all just down to her and her inability to do right by him. He realised though, belatedly, that if anyone else had done exactly that, or even attempted to, in any other scenario he just might have taken up the offer and ran with it. But this was her, this was Squeaks. 

She was quiet for a time, then she picked up her mug, eyes trained on the movement of it before, “What then?” 

“What?” Matty frowned once more, shuffling forward in his seat in an attempt to catch her eye again.

“Why did you do it then? Why’d you lie, why didn’t you tell me about Teddy?”

That knot he’d been feeling for weeks now. The one at the very end of his tongue, all tied and tangled in the back of his throat, suddenly shrivelled up and slackened, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a plethora of guilt behind.

Matty’s gaze wandered over to the window, to where Teddy’s guitar sat in its stand just before a heavy set of grey curtains. He withheld the urge to pick at his nails as he searched for the right words to give her, wanting so honestly to tell her the truth, to give her a play by play of what had happened in detail, as well as every thought that had gone through his mind. 

“It wasn’t what it looked like for a start.”

Mouse scoffed a little at that, and Matty couldn’t be mad at it. If he was sat on the other end of this he’d been doing more than just that, he’d be up in arms, tossing shit about and raving to all who would listen.

Still, his eyes trailed down to where his hands now laid in his lap and he pressed his thumb to his palm. “We were on the highstreet, on the way back here.” He started, voice quiet as his stare tracked the faint lines of his hand, “The guy you saw in the pictures came out of nowhere really. Me and Teds had just been at that ice cream shop a way down, I didn’t even spot him until he was there, in my face.”

Matty wet his lower lip, mouth suddenly going dry. Mouse just waited.

“Teddy was quick to hide behind me, you know? The loudmouth didn’t even really notice him until the last minute. But you have to know, all I wanted was to get him out of there. To avoid staying too long and attracting the wrong sort of attention. Okay? So I’d said I had to get going as soon as he'd spoken, told him I didn’t have time to stay and chat.” 

He took a quick breath with that, eyes still centred on the deepest groove of his palm. “But then he, then he brought up Luke. Said something about the funeral he didn't go to and wanting to celebrate his life.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Squeaks’s hands still from their previous bout of fidgeting. “But I told him I was clean. He didn’t believe me at first, which,” Matty huffed out a self-deprecating laugh, “Well, I can’t blame him for that, what with my track record.”

He heard her inhale then and looked up, it seemed as though she was going to say something but thought better. So Matty bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from asking before he exhaled slowly, digging a nail into that groove.

“He got a bit aggy, started calling me a toff and whatnot, because I 'spose I was just a rich boy who bought him a couple grams of coke every now and then.” He clucked his tongue thinking about it, but eventually shrugged. “Then I don’t know, he must’ve looked down or something ‘cause that’s when he,” Matty paused and his gaze shot over to her, then away again, “That’s when he spotted Teddy.”

Mouse wrinkled her mouth, then tried to nod, obviously wanting him to continue. Though she kept her eyes trained on the rim of her mug.

“That’s when he said some shit and I reacted.”

“Said what?”

Matty startled a little at the sound of her question but was hasty in his attempt to answer. “Just, he reckoned that Teddy was mine and that I had to have knocked someone up. So now they were just using me for the money.”

Her eyes slipped closed and her fingers tightened their grip on her cup.

Swallowing thickly, Matty went to continue, “I shoved him and told him to do one- that’s what they caught in those photos. I didn't take anything he offered, I didn't even look back after. Just walked away, thinking of Teddy, trying to get him out of there. The bloke, he kept on shouting, saying some crap about this and that. But I carried on walking.”

Matty was proud of that fact, even with everything that had happened since. Not too long ago, a different version of him would have handled it all too severely. It was a step, a tiny one, sure, but it was progress.

“Then what?” Mouse voiced, prompting him along with just a look.

“Then we walked home.” Matty replied, feeling that familiar cloud of shame dawn over him. “We didn’t really speak, I- I was a bit of a mess, trying to figure out what to do next, what to tell Teddy, to say to make it right again. But Teds, he,” Matty hauled in his next breath, all too fucking close to bawling, that he could admit. “He called for me and I looked down at him. All I could say was sorry, Mouse.”

She nodded tightly, the knuckles she had wrapped around her tea cup had whitened.

“He,” Matty felt the corners of his mouth lift as he remembered the bittersweet memory of Teddy trying to soothe him, “He told me it was alright, that we were okay, but I just kept on saying sorry. He said that the bloke was just a bad man, and I assured him of that. Wanting him to know that we were okay, that the guy was long gone. But then he-”

Matty stopped altogether then, a picture of Teddy's little face coming to the forefront of his mind, and Squeaks immediately took note.

“Then what?”

Her eyes were so full of emotion, but which ones he wasn’t too sure. Still, the sight tightened every muscle in his chest as he forced himself to finish what he’d started. “He said we couldn’t tell you.”

Matty knew he couldn’t have imagined the sharp inhale that sounded from her then, as though she'd just received a blow to the chest. And he so desperately wanted to reach out, to wrap her up and just fucking hold her. But he couldn't. It wasn't his place.

He watched on as she licked at her top lip though, blinking back the wetness that shone in her eyes, “Why?” Her voice cracked on the question but she did not cry.

It was a simple answer. “He didn’t want to hurt you.”

Mouse stood then, placing the cup down with some force before she hastily made her way over to the front window. Matty stayed seated, unsure if he’d be welcome near her.

“It fucking broke me, Squeaks.” He admitted after a moment, his lips now tingled with the sheer amount of effort it took for him to not let his emotions get the better of him. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You should have told me.” Was her reply, sharp and cutting, enough that it fucking wounded. Because Matty knew that she was right.

“I know.” He answered.

“You should have fucking told me, Matty!” She repeated, turning then to face him. He saw the tremble of her shoulders, the curve of her mouth and how it quaked. He stared, couldn't bring himself to look away.

“I know.”

He swallowed, throat almost aching as much as the hole that made up the majority of his chest. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

“I don't know.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

#the 1975 #fic #matty healy #angst #radio host #reader #x reader #x you #george daniel #ross macdonald #the 1975 band #adam hann #fluff #humour #smut #matty healy fic #matty 1975 #matty healy x reader #matty x reader #matty healy x you #ao3 #fame #strangers to lovers #mum reader #kid fic #getting together #SLOWBURN #mutual pining #Warnings #aipoban

[dulcelem]

Part 3

So, with both of them back in Anakt Garden, what else to do if not keep following him? It is important to remember that they are children, acting immaturely and having childish attitudes. There is little point in analyzing any alnst character with our vision of society. They hardly have any social or emotional awareness, they act on instinct, and Ivan's instinct is to want Till to look at him. In flashbacks and official artwork, Ivan does everything in his power to trick Till into paying attention to him. The fight over the flower crown is a great example.

Till was giving him the attention he wanted, and Ivan was more than happy about it, because he couldn't tell the difference between bad attention and good attention. Nobody taught him this and he had difficulty understanding others. But, although I understand that the fights are more noticeable, it irritates me that that's all that is focused on by the majority. Yes, he deliberately instigated fights. Right. But he would also silently sit next to Till to watch him draw. He dedicated himself to freeing him every time he could. He would steal his things only to return them later to interact with him. He lay next to Till after he was beaten and locked up. He would lie down next to Till to admire the sky (looking at Till, of course) with him. He was the one playing with Till, not Mizi. Anything and everything to stay by his side—with him. No matter how you look at it, one irreducible fact is that Ivan was always, always there. One way or another, for better or worse: it was always him. He was the one next to Till. All this child wanted was to be close to Till.

The difference...

That is, until he realized the type of relationship MiziSua had. He was consumed by envy, because he and Till did not and would never have that; and loneliness, because Sua was different from him.

Suddenly, being close wasn't close enough. He wanted to be noticed and he wanted to be loved. Till is the person Ivan is intrigued by the most. He loves and admires him and he longed for an unlikely reciprocity of these feelings. Although he desperately wanted it, Ivan seemed hyperaware that not only was he unloved, he wasn't even looked at. Till not so much as deigned to look at him, oblivious to the pain, oblivious to the feelings, oblivious to how much he meant to Ivan. And Ivan hated that.

But, as time passed, it seems that this became something he learned to live with despite all the bitterness he must have felt. As is evident in Round6, their interactions diminished over time. Maybe that's the reason, maybe not. Ivan, stubbornly(like a dog following its true owner), remained close to him but, now, only when he needed it. Marjorietarily when he was unconscious, when he was on a collar. Even though the interactions were fewer, Ivan couldn't stay away from Till. Close, on his own twisted way. He didn't even show his gentleness. He didn't want to show his affection, only his agressive side and that's a key part of their relationship: Till never knew his kindness, and Ivan also didn't even show him.

Something that breaks my heart is the message he leaves Till before they part. I'll just leave it here, I don't need to say anything else.

Part 2

#alnst #alien stage #ivantill #alnst ivan #alnst till #ivan alien stage

[hp-hcs]

phantasm (remember?) — mattheo riddle x gn! hella manipulative! reader

phantasm noun noun: phantasm; plural noun: phantasms

LITERARY a figment of the imagination; an illusion or apparition.

warnings: minor character death, murder, severe manipulation, gaslighting, blink-and-you-miss-it reference to self harm,❗️stand-alone/no part two❗️

is he schizophrenic, high, or haunted? you decide!

❕it’s supposed to be confusing!!! you should finish reading this and be like “what the fuck did i just read”, alr?❕

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Mattheo Riddle had always been odd. Everyone knew that.

Maybe it had something to do with his parents. One Crucio from his father too many, perhaps. 

Maybe he hit his head when he was younger. That wasn’t too much of a stretch. He’d always been quite reckless. 

But either way, no one could pinpoint what event caused Mattheo to see things that weren’t really there. 

~~~

It first came to light when Mattheo, staying the night at his cousin’s house for a sleepover at the tender age of five, stomped over to his Aunt Narcissa to tattle.

“They pushed me down th’ stairs, Aunt Cissy!” he whined, sticking out his lower lip in a pout. “See? I even skinned my knee!”

“Who did? Draco?”

“No, Y/n!”

~~~

Mattheo couldn’t remember much about the Janus Thickey ward. 

He’d spent a month there when he was six, but didn’t have a single memory of his time there. Just vague flashes that haunted his nightmares, but ones that he could never remember once he woke. 

Narcissa remembered though. And so did Draco. 

The Malfoys both remember visiting Mattheo in the hospital, Draco clutching Mattheo’s stuffed dragon under one arm and holding onto the string of a “Get Well Soon!” mylar balloon in his other hand, only for the pair to find Mattheo hiding under his bed and mumbling to himself, furiously scratching at his arms and crying. 

The Malfoys remember. 

~~~

Mattheo couldn’t remember if you had always been there, or if you just showed up one day. 

There were a lot of things Mattheo couldn’t remember. 

~~~

“Who can tell me what a boggart is?” Professor Moody asked, pacing the front of the room with his odd, uneven gait. An old antique armoire stood near the front of the room, a large area around it cleared of the usual clutter that filled every inch of the classroom. 

Surprising absolutely nobody, Granger’s hand shot up. 

Mattheo shot a look over to his cousin, rolling his eyes, while Draco smothered a laugh in response.

“A boggart is a creature that takes on the form of one’s greatest fear, sir,” Granger said in that obnoxious know-it-all tone of hers. “No one knows what their true forms are.”

“One’s greatest fear, sir,” Mattheo mocked under his breath to Draco in a purposefully bad imitation of Granger. 

“Ah, Riddle. How nice of you to volunteer. Step on up, boy.” Moody’s hand came down on Mattheo’s shoulder from behind him, gripping it firmly. “Go on. Grab your wand.”

Mattheo’s face drained of color. Surely Moody wouldn’t…?

No, it’s Mad-Eye Moody. Of course he’d do something like this. 

Mattheo stood on shaking legs, gulping as he approached the ominously placed armoire. 

Everyone watched with rapt attention. 

What was Mattheo Riddle afraid of?

The Dark Lord? Dumbledore?

Or something more benign, like spiders or small spaces?

Whatever it was, Mattheo’s fellow students were not expecting a teenager to step out of the armoire. 

Maybe fourteen at the most, unassuming, wearing…Riddle’s quidditch jersey?

They weren’t a student, that was for sure. Nobody in the room recognized them.

(Except for the one poor bastard whose boggart it was.)

Professor Moody narrowed his eyes at the boggart, his gaze quickly shifting between the harmless-looking teen and the literal son of the Dark Lord, the latter of which was frozen stiff with fear, his wand threatening to slip from his quivering fingers at any moment.

The boggart tilted its head and smiled.

~~~

Is this how Potter feels, when Father’s inside his head?

Mattheo sat uncomfortably across from Professor Moody, the professor’s desk being the only thing separating them.

The professor said nothing, merely observing Mattheo. A bizarre enchanted cuckoo clock on the wall trumpeted like an elephant, signaling the hour, then returned to its steady tick tick tick.

“Mr. Riddle, do you ever hear…voices? Voices that maybe…encourage you to do bad things?”

Mattheo was sweating. How did he know about you? How?

“He’s just trying to get in your head, Mattheo,” you murmured, sitting next to him in the other armchair. “That’s all.”

Was it? Mattheo wondered. 

“Y’know, I’m starting to think you’re the one that’s in my head,” he said softly. “Nobody else thinks you’re real.”

Your face soured. “You think I’m not real? That I don’t exist? Huh? He’s lying to you! He’s a liar and a manipulator!”

“Just get out of my head!” Mattheo pleaded quietly. “Please!”

You fumed, jumping up to sit on the edge of Moody’s desk. You swung your legs back and forth, an angry expression marring your features. “Matty-”

“Stop calling me that!” he snapped. “Just go away! Leave me alone!”

“But you’re my best friend, Matty,” you insisted innocently. 

“We are not friends!”

You sighed dramatically as you laid down on the desk, putting the back of your hand up to your forehead—as if pretending to faint—as you did so. “Then what are we, Matty? Paramours? Estranged lovers?”

“Enemies,” he hissed, his knuckles white with how tightly he was clenching his fists. 

“Well, I have always loved the enemies to lovers trope,” you said breezily, smirking at him. “Besides, you haven’t got anyone else. Admit it. I’m all you have.”

Moody watched Mattheo have his one-sided conversation with wide eyes, unsure of what was happening. “Mr. Riddle? Are you alright? Wh-who are you talking to?”

“See?” You clicked your tongue, shaking your head slowly. “He thinks you’re crazy.”

“There are many talented healers that I could contact–”

Mattheo’s gaze kept darting between you and Moody as his breathing picked up. 

“Bet he wants to send you back to Janus Thickey,” you whispered, purposefully turning your voice soft and fearful, blinking back fake tears. “I don’t want to disappear again, Mattheo, please.”

“I–” Mattheo stammered, dread creeping up his spine at the thought of being alone again. 

“Please?” you begged. “You know what to do. It’s not like he doesn’t deserve it.”

“He– what? No!”

“But he wronged you,” you whisper softly, your tone manipulative and gentle. “He deserves to suffer.”

“Stop it!” Mattheo pleaded again, reflexively drawing his wand and pointing it at you. 

“He wronged you,” you repeated, eyes narrowing. 

“Stop!”

“He deserves to suffer.”

“Shut up!”

“He wronged you.”

“Y/n!”

“He deserves–”

“Avada Kedavra!”

You both fell silent, your argument abruptly cut off with the resounding thunk of Moody’s body hitting the floor. 

Dead. 

~~~

“Oh my Merlin– y-you killed someone!” Mattheo panicked, dropping his wand and grabbing fistfuls of his hair. 

“Oh, no no no, Matty. I didn’t kill anyone,” you said sweetly, examining your nails apathetically. “You did.”

“I’ll tell everyone,” Mattheo threatened through his quivering lower lip. “I will. I’ll tell them it was you.”

“Who’s going to believe you?” you cooed, your voice dripping in saccharine sweetness as you leaned forward to tousle his hair. 

Mattheo flinched back. 

You laughed, patting his cheek as you hopped off the desk. “Come find me when you’re ready to help me with my next…project.”

“Y-you planned this?”

“Duh.” You rolled your eyes. “Catch up, love. You’re not stupid.”

With that, you stand up on tiptoe, plant a fat kiss on his cheek, and disappear out the door without another word. 

Mattheo swore he could see bloody footprints marking your trail down the hall. 

#harry potter #hp #fuck jkr #x reader #hp x gn reader #hp x male reader #x male reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #slytherin boys #x gn reader #gn reader #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

[blarshwritezz]

hi if u dont mind i would love a mafia x male spy reader (gn if you ur not comfy with that) so the mafia boss pretends to be the mission partner for the reader just for fun he almist kileed the reader on multiple occasions but the reader misunderstands and thinks that the mafia boss was just helping him albeit in a weird and rather violent way and although reader has a suspicion that his partner (the mafia boss) isnt who he says he is due to skme odd similarities between him and the target of his mission (that being the Mafia boss) and the fact that his partner could easily waltz in notorious criminals manors and party and one day everything just clicks for the reader and they try to escape but the mafia boss knew thus so he kidnapped em and the live happily ever after (idk how to end this so just do what you deem fit ty!!!)

(oh yeah its fine if ur not comfortable or just don't want to make my request im not paying you so you hqbe no obligations to do so remember to take care of yourself <333 /p)

(and if i could could i become 🦀 anon)

Yes! Welcome, 🦀 anon!

Yandere Mafia Boss x Spy Reader

M yan x gn reader (sorry, I prefer to do gn for non-nsfw asks)

TW - general yandere behavior, drugging, implied kidnapping

Your mission was simple, at least on paper. Simply gain intel on a notorious mafia boss. But if it was that easy, you wouldn't have been working at it for so long.

It didn't help that your partner for this mission was...unusual. Not a bad guy, really, just strange. Sometimes you almost thought he was trying to kill you. You'd often catch him staring at you. You even felt his gaze when you swore no one was around.

Not to mention, danger was ever prevalent around him. He always managed to save you, though. But his face did often look rather annoyed...you just assumed he was one of those people with a really bad rbf.

But it was also suspicious how he was able to so easily and casually waltz into the homes or parties of very high-profile people. People you'd never be able to get near without months of careful planning. Maybe he just had good connections?

But all these coincidences were getting a bit too...convenient. If you needed to get in somewhere, he got you in the front gate. If you needed something, he miraculously had it only a day or two after at the latest.

And worst of all, you still haven't managed to track down this damn mafia boss! It didn't help that nobody knew what he looked like.

"Maybe he's right under your nose." His deep voice startled you out of your thoughts. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder, holding you close. Despite his cold exterior, he was pretty touchy and clingy. But...sort of sweet. You were glad to have met him, even if this mission was looking like a bust.

"But where? Where haven't we checked?"

"Well, our organization may be high security, but not impossible to infiltrate for a man like that." Was he implying that one of your own coworkers could be your target? Impossible!

But...now it all seemed to come together. Those coincidences...weren't just coincidences. He really has been right under your nose this whole time.

No wonder he could go wherever he wanted and get anything he desired. He had power and influence...more than you thought.

"I-Impossible! Our organization has the highest security possible! I'd know if someone like that could be...beside me..." It was a sad attempt to cover up your newest theory, but also to try and reassure yourself. If this was true, then you weren't as good of a spy as you thought...

You got up, or tried to at least. He kept his grip tight on you.

He knew.

"I can't just let you go now. You know my identity. So I'll just have to keep you as my newest little toy." In seconds his arm lowered to prevent you from moving your arms as he quickly used his other to cover your mouth and nose with a rag.

Chloroform.

"Just sleep...Be a good pet and I'll be sure to reward you very well..." Despite your struggling, sleep soon took you. No one ever heard from you again...no one but him, of course.

I'm sorry, this one feels so rushed and short, I was having a tough time getting inspired 😭

Forgive me, 🦀 anon, for I have failed

#blarsh writes #x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere #male x reader #yandere x you #anon ask #yandere x darling #yandere x male darling #male yandere x reader #male yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere mafia #mafia yandere #mafia boss yandere #yandere mafia boss

[claireelle18]

Everything Turns Out Right - Ross Colton

He’s out of surgery and she meets him in his room afterwards, telling him “you know, they almost didn’t let me in here. They said I had to wait until you were up and asking for me.” Her pointed look towards him.

“They only let me in because you had me listed on your paperwork as your wife. Though I had to convince them, due to us not having the same last name.” 

He put his hands up in a half-hearted attempt, “I’m trying to manifest the things I want by speaking them into the universe.” 

“And you want a wife?” A faked pointed look shot to him. 

“Only if it’s you.” A cocky grin spreading to show his pearly whites. 

“I think your meds are too strong. You, mister, are lucky. I was able to convince them we hadn’t agreed to us taking each other’s names yet and that we were waiting for my passport to be renewed before anything else.” 

He chuckles, “So you’re going along with this wifey?” Her heart racing hearing him jokingly call her that name she desperately wants him to actually mean. 

“Only because I wanted to be here,” she stuck out her tongue, settling next to his bedside. 

Hours must have passed before the next person visited. “Mr. Colton…” stated a middle aged nurse.

“Shhh…please. She is trying to sleep,” he motioned to her curled up in the corner of the hospital room couch. “Kept her up all night worried with the injury as she had to fly in before learning anything further.” 

“So sorry, Mr. Colton. I was trying to inform you that visiting hours are soon to be over.” 

“She’s my wife. She can stay.” 

“My bad sir.” The nurse ducked out of the doorway. She stirred soon after. Blinking around, searching to understand her surroundings. 

“Tony is on his way here with real food for you. You need to eat. I’m pretty sure you last ate that snack size bag of Cheez-Its before the airplane ride.” He said. She squinty-eyed him. “You know I’m right.” 

“You need to eat too, R,” she huffed. 

“Already ate. Hospital food. Not half bad,” he shrugged, motioning to the bed tray with the past dinner plate. 

“I can go down to the cafe and get something before they close for the night,” she started to protest. He shook his head. 

“Too late sweets. He’s on his way. Meantime I’ve been channel surfing and I found a Jurassic Park movie marathon.” 

Thanks to Tony coming in with true food for her before retreating back to the team’s hotel, she was left with him again. “Come here sweetheart,” he motioned to the slightly larger than a twin bed. 

“R…” she started to protest. 

“Nuh uh honey. Join me, I need you here to make sure no dinosaurs come to eat me.” She rolled her eyes. 

“You’re a dork.” 

“Yeah, yeah, but I’m your dork. Now get over here.” She gingerly climbed into the bed as best as she could to avoid bumping into his shoulder. 

Before the team jetted off to the next city for the next game in the road series, a few stopped by to check in. She had slipped out to grab a cup of coffee while the men all talked briefly. “Soooo Tony spilled the beans that you told the docs she’s your wife…” Patty joked. 

“Well I knew she would just be too anxious to sit in the hotel room with one of you guys. No offense,” he replied back.

“You must really love her to go that far to lie about her to a hospital,” Brayden chimed in. 

“And to have us use your card to buy her that emergency flight,” Steven commented. “Ross you have to just tell her the way you feel. Sandra tells me that the way she looks at you is the same way that all of our ladies look at us, but that there is that look of longing written deep in her expression. Hate to break it to you now, but do something about it. Seriously.” No one knew that she had returned from her coffee adventure to over hear the conversation. 

Steven was right. All the guys were. Sandra was, and she knew exactly her feelings towards the New Jersey native as it was a family common topic of discussion in the family box. “I want to give her the entire universe. I wasn’t really lying about the whole wife part, more just trying to actually speak what I want into existence with her. I know Tony knows this since he was there to help me pick it out, but I have the ring for her.” A ring?! So he had that planned out already. 

She burst into the already cramped hospital room, carefully flinging herself into the body of the man she loved so much. A couple of the guys chuckled at the scene in front of them. “I love you so much, R.” 

“So I am guessing you heard the conversation,” his laugh reverberating through her. 

“Every word.”

“Well fuck this wasn’t really the way I had thought it would happen,” he glanced around the room at the guys. “I don’t even have it with me. Didn’t expect to have you here with me, even if it is due to the unfortunate circumstance.” 

“I don’t care if you physically have it. You have known that items aren’t important to me.” Her eyes getting all teary.

“Sweetheart, it’s important as it’s my promise to you. You deserve to have a ring. It’s been in my nightstand drawer for months.” That was true. He bought the ring almost a year ago. She had left for a weekend to visit her family, which meant he was able to go pick out the right ring for her. He had been speaking with a local jeweler for a handful of weeks, and the designed ring finally came in. 

The team left, and the couple (well Ross) was discharged from the hospital. The flight back to Tampa was uneventful, except for the company of one of the trainers to make sure there were no unforeseen complications to the injured offensive. When the two arrived home, he pulled the velvet box from that back part of his nightstand. Her tears springing to blur her vision. “Again, not how I had imagined or planned to do this for you,” he started. 

She shook her head, a silent laugh shaking her body. “My love, you have been the best part of my life,” he continued on. “The nonstop love you have for everyone around you. How much you pour yourself into your life. I could not even imagine life without you in it. When you came into my life, the sunshine brightened the world even further. I saw it from a different outlook that only you could show me.” He watched her closely as he momentarily struggled with the small box. 

Pulling it open, revealing the large custom ring to her. “Will you do me the honor of continuing that life, and be my wife?” He asked her. 

“Absolutely yes! I would say yes in every life time to you Ross.” She couldn’t imagine her life without him in it, and was so glad he felt the same. Through it all, life would be amazing with each other by their sides. 

#ross colton #imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl hockey #tampa bay lightning #tblightning

[kivaember]

looks you dead in the eye. yes. i wrote viv621 AC... groping... idek what this is. it's late and i should sleep but my brain was like WRITE THIS WRITE THIS so here you have AC petting. Enjoy(?).

When Raven had floated the idea to him initially, Rusty had thought it'd been nothing more than a strange joke.

It'd been on the tail end of a sortie, a quick and dirty job of crushing a Balam raiding party that had been harassing Arquebus supply lines a little too much. It'd been just MTs, but one had managed to get a lucky shot on STEEL HAZE, a wayward round lodging into the joint of the AC's left shoulder. It hadn't been enough to limit his range of movement, but it squatted in juuuust the right spot to constantly trigger his pressure sensors around there, a phantom sensation that twinged and jolted like minute electrical shocks down his arm - a pinched nerve.

It was a big drawback to being an augmented human, in Rusty's opinion. True, their high levels of synchronisation with their ACs meant they could move it as fluidly as their own body, respond as quickly as their synapses could fire without that deadly split-second processing pause that unaugmented pilots suffered from, but the big drawback was that this required their ACs to have delicate pressure sensors for their proprioception to fully translate.

Rusty had heard all the 'funny stories' of the early Gens accidentally having their ACs smack themselves in the face with their hands or tripping their own feet, complaints of feeling utterly numb and not knowing what their "body" (AC) was doing or where their limbs were. Pressure sensors were the answer, the AC's own nervous system, and through that their brains could translate sensations and signals in the only way it knew how: pain and pleasure.

That trapped bullet in STEEL HAZE's shoulder was definitely pinging pain, over and over, though. Enough to make him grit his teeth and his voice come out a little strained, and to have Raven inquire about his health.

"Ah, well, one of the Balams got a lucky hit in, is all," he said breezily, trying to brush the whole thing off. "I think a round is stuck in my left shoulder."

«Let me look,» Raven offered, and Rusty didn't know why he agreed to it but he did, standing perfectly still while Raven's AC, STALKER, carefully probed the joint of STEEL HAZE's left shoulder, sending pulses of sensations ghosting along Rusty's corresponding shoulder.

It was a mingle of pain and something indefinable. Despite the friendly and approachable personality he presented, Rusty was unused to being touched. The only time he had 'contact' was when someone managed to get a glancing blow on STEEL HAZE, an echo of pain thrumming through him - encouragement not to let that happen again. Every touch made him tense, half-expecting pain to follow, and this presented itself as minute twitches and flinches as STALKER prodded and teased its mechanical fingers into the soft, delicate writing inside his shoulder.

«Does it hurt?» Raven asked.

"Just sensitive," Rusty said, his voice strangely taut to his own ears.

Raven said nothing more, and only minutes after that he found the trapped round and extracted it, that nervy, stinging pain immediately vanishing. Rusty rolled his shoulder, thanked him for the help, and turned to go, oddly flustered and feeling the need for space when-

«It can feel good too.»

Rusty didn't know what to say in response to that. He stared at him, and Raven stared back, the round pinched between STALKER's fingers. It was slightly flattened at the tip.

«I can show you sometime,» Raven continued, and flicked the round away.

"Um, sure, sometime," Rusty stammered, thrown by the offer, and tossed in his goodbyes before quickly leaving the scene.

Afterwards, when lying in his cot and rubbing his shoulder, still feeling the odd twinge, he dismissed the whole thing as Raven's strange sense of humour rearing its head at an inappropriate time. He hadn't meant it like that, obviously. It had probably been a comment on how field repairs weren't normally that painful or uncomfortable.

So he put the whole thing out of mind.

-

Actually, that was a lie. The whole thing lived in his mind rent free for days afterwards.

The memory of that ghostly sensation of Raven's fingers inside his shoulder joint haunted him, something so viscerally intimate yet alien that his mind simply didn't know how to compartmentalise it. He ignored it instead, throwing himself onto sorties despite the monotony of it all. He'd almost convinced himself he'd forgotten entirely about it until his path once more crossed with Raven's.

Another job. They were going to reclaim an oil refinery from Balam which was guarded by nothing but MTs. The Redguns being so few in number and overstretched meant that whenever they overextended their lines, their men were sitting ducks for the far more numerous Vespers and their deep pockets to pay for Raven's services.

It'd been overkill using both Rusty and Raven, but Rusty suspected Snail just wanted him out of the base. He'd been getting particularly surly as of late.

There'd been no lucky shots from desperate MTs, but a stray shot had detonated an oil tanker. Chunks of shrapnel had been thrown across the battlefield, and while STEEL HAZE's armour had deflected most of it, one particularly large chunk had somehow managed to wedge itself in the hydraulics of STEEL HAZE's neck. He couldn't turn his head in either direction without experiencing an incredibly unpleasant, choking sensation lancing right down his throat. It made even talking a bit of a breathless affair.

Again, Raven asked if he was okay.

"Uh, yeah, just... think some shrapnel's stuck in my neck," Rusty muttered, knowing he was holding STEEL HAZE too stiffly. He was fighting the base, animal urge to scrabble at his neck, but STEEL HAZE's frame wasn't built to accomodate that. He was likely to accidentally cause damage than do any real help.

«Let me see.»

Rusty stayed still as STALKER crowded into his personal space, unable to look at anything but STALKER's asymmetrical head right in front of him. STEEL HAZE's pressure sensors detected STALKER's fingers very gently probing at his throat, a phantom touch that made Rusty instinctively swallow.

In the bottom right hand corner of his HUD, where his vitals were monitored visually, he saw his pulse spike.

«There is shrapnel lodged in there. It's jamming the left-front neck hydraulic.»

"Mn," Rusty responded, and felt a tremor wrack up his spine when he felt STALKER's fingers dig into his- STEEL HAZE's throat. It had his breaths stuttering in his lungs, nerves firing with a sensation that was too intense to call merely pain or pleasure.

The shrapnel felt like it was being scraped through his windpipe, STALKER's fingers gently weaving through his vocal chords to reach it. Rusty found himself blinking rapidly, his gaze fixed on the bottom right corner, seeing his pulse spike higher, higher, his body unsure on what to make of such a visceral touch.

STALKER's questing fingers finally pinched against the edge of the shrapnel, and began to tease it out. Some sort of- noise left Rusty, feeling like Raven was running the sharp edge of a knife gently along his nerves. It was a dizzying relief when he finally yanked the shrapnel free, Rusty gulping in a deep, shuddering breath.

«Sensitive?»

"Wh- wha- huh?" Rusty coughed, trying to recall his pulse from the stratosphere.

Raven didn't repeat himself. STALKER flicked away the piece of shrapnel, but didn't move out of his personal space.

«You have some more shrapnel in your waist. I'll extract that too.»

"Oh... okay," Rusty mumbled, only half-listening. Adrenaline still fizzled through him, almost making him jump out of his skin when he felt STALKER's hand brush along the side of STEEL HAZE's Core, a metallic scraping noise as it trailed along the lip of its armour.

Raven paused, as if waiting for a protest, before it slipped its hand underneath the Core, where STEEL HAZE's waist joined with the Core block underneath the lightweight armour. It was a place that was rarely, if ever touched - by enemy fire or a melee strikes. Rusty genuinely thought there was no sensation there, but-

He felt it, a sensation like a hand was sliding into his guts and partway up to cup his heart against a palm. He went rigid in his seat, and something in STEEL HAZE's posture must've betrayed him, because STALKER immediately withdrew its hand.

«Sensitive?»

It took Rusty a few tries to remember how to talk. "Y-Yeah. One... one word for... for that."

Raven was quiet, the crimson light of STALKER's ocular feeds regarding him. Slowly, STALKER reached out again, but it didn't slip its hand back underneath the vulnerable spot beneath STEEL HAZE's Core block. The tips of its fingers gently caressed the very edge of it, pressing against where soft wires nestled beneath the overhanging armour of the Nachtreiher Core.

Rusty's body didn't know how to translate that sensation. He felt like Raven's fingers were idly stroking along his diaphragm - almost ticklish, stealing the air out of his lungs, not painful, but not pleasure, but some other intense third thing that had his fingernails leaving grooves in the arms of his cockpit chair.

«Does it hurt?»

If he said yes, Raven would stop immediately, he knew this instinctively. If he said yes, Raven would back off, likely apologise, and then they'd never discuss this strange, heady moment ever again. It was on the tip of Rusty's tongue, to say yes, but it didn't leave him. He sat there, quivering with an indescribable emotion, feeling STALKER gently stroke exposed circuits and Raven touch the very core of him, and mumbled some sort of half-garbled: "Nno- no, it's- sensitive."

«Bad sensitive?»

Rusty made an ambigious noise.

«Bad sensitive?» Raven repeated.

"No," Rusty breathed out, and bit the inside of his cheek when Raven pushed his hand higher - deeper - into him, until that 'palm-cupping-his-heart' sensation returned. His pulse spiked again. He watched the numbers shoot up, dizzy, and heard/felt the slight scratch of STALKER's finger stroking along the underside of his Core block.

It was- indescribable. The intense third thing again. Rusty's brain didn't know how to handle the feeling of a hand so tenderly, gently, cradling his insides - shrapnel inside his waist his ass how was any of this his waist - his pulse shot higher, beepbeepbeepbeep, a light blinked in the corner, yet Raven didn't back off and Rusty didn't tell him to stop.

He was so conscious, so conscious, of Raven's hand inside of him, of STALKER's hand below him, the slight vibration of that finger scratching along the bottom of the Core block, reverbing through military grade metal and making the cockpit quiver, of feeling Raven's finger gently stroke along the underside of his pounding heart, making weird little lights sort of flicker in his vision and the pulse numbers on his HUD go all funny and weird. Oxygen levels were coming back low. That was odd.

And as Rusty felt himself teeter towards something horribly intense yet amazingly new, STALKER's hand dropped away and Raven's hand left his insides. STEEL HAZE swayed dangerously.

«Very sensitive,» Raven said, resting a hand against STEEL HAZE's shoulder to steady him. «We should probably start small.»

"Wha." Rusty mumbled deliriously.

STALKER patted his shoulder in what could arguably be called affection. «Take a moment.»

Rusty did take a moment. Actually he took several moments, but once his wits returned from whatever zonked out plane of existence they had flown to, he felt nothing but self-conscious embarrassment.

"Uh, really sorry about that..." he mumbled as they returned to the rendevouz point, leaving the smoking oil refinery behind them. "I'm not quite sure what happened there."

«It's okay. It's intense the first few times,» Raven reassured him. «We'll just build it up. We can start with holding hands and going from there.»

"Um." Holding hands was... "That's really... tame...?"

«We'll see.»

-

It turned out holding hands was a little more intense than he thought it'd be.

#armored core #armored core 6 #viv621 #v.iv rusty #c4 621 #uhhh idk what this is #mech groping i guess? #raven's being a freak as per usual

[inkskinned]

probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.

we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."

at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.

the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.

the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.

what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.

here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.

#this is true #writeblr #warm up #relatedly for some reason one of our Favorite Jokes #amongst the Siblings #is like - ''this is so good u will love it'' #while we are reacting to something we OBVIOUSLY find viscerally disgusting #like we will be actively retching and be like ''nooooo it's so good'' #to the point that i sometimes get nervous if someone outside my family is like oh u should try it its good #(obvi we never force each other to eat anything. we are all just curious birds and #like. we're GONNA try the new thing.) #edit to answer why we had so much vanilla: #my mom is a very good cook and we LOVE to bake. so she just had a lot of staples in the house. #it's one of those things that's like. have u ever continuously thought ''ah i should get butter im probably out'' #even tho u are not out of butter. so u end up with like 5 years of butter. #my mom would do that in a costco but like with vanilla extract #to be fair we WERE always using WAY TOO MUCH bc we were kids #so like she was right to stock up #ps. yes we were VERY sick after this lol i just didn't want to include it in the post in case ppl had an ick about that #u can tell it's real bc we knew "oh no we fucked up that's too much vanilla to waste'' but our reaction was to just. keep drinking it #> sibling understanding that vanilla extract isn't free > knowledge mother doesnt mind if we use it for milkshakes #> sibling choice to maybe get in a loophole of ''not wasting it'' if we drink it bc that's the same as using it (not throwing it out) #listen bud i was like 13 and my sister was like 9 #when my mom discovered this we. got in. A LOT. of trouble. a lot of it. a LOT of it. #3rd edit bc i guess it isn't clear - i am 1 of my brother's 2 little sisters #i am the middle child #out of all the ways i have had to explain a post before being like ''did u forget a middle child can happen'' is my favorite

[verflares]

(pre-calam) filling the compendium :-)

+ closeup and the aftermath

#i am PRAYING that this posts okay and nothing gets squished or looks ugly. but if it is youcant tell me because ill cry #okay. anyways. #zelink #zelda #link #loz #botw #totk #link botw #zelda botw #loz fanart #for some reason trying to format this became a sisyphean ass task so now i just want to post it and go lie down or something #“why use warm colours if theyre on satori mountain” idk.... i liked how they looked :) #ok what else. ummm. so we KNOW zelda filled the compendium like she was running the navy right #its really funny because i dont even think its ever mentioned other than like. maybeeee one throwaway line from purah? #but there was a fandom osmosis moment bcus everyone Knew she'd be on top of it. and its true. she would be. #my art

[cowboy-robooty]

no guys you dont get it itager isnt sweet and tender in the domestic gay lovey dovey way theyre sweet and tender in the BRO way

#im a crazy bitch okay i will be like yes theyre lovey to eachother yes thats true #yes i only get gay and shit for itager bc theyre true love and then see something sappy and gay of them and go THAT AINT RIGHT #im a freak okay im such an asshole about itager bc i think theyre lovey to eachother in a very specific way and all other ways are cringe #me when the only itager i consume is the official goddamn hetalia manga #and them doujins made by corolla that mf was the only person ever who understood them (even if they were misguided and believed in gerita) #i like to think in my heart of hearts corolla knew the truth it was just the wrong time. #like how i know bill and ted wouldve loved touhou koishi song its just they were born in the wrong era #but yeah like germany and italy are gay in that BRO way like. its hard to describe but its not gay its more like.... friendship adjacent #like when you deeply care about your bro and act gay with them in that way they arent about that silently looks at the moonlight shit #they look at the moonlight and italy goes 'germany is right now a good time to tell you i fucked your car again' and germany goes 'What.' #ITS A BETTER AND MORE AWEZOME FORM OF LOVE IN MY HUMBLEST OF OPINIONS.... I PERSONALLY PREFER IT #its domestic in the way of having your average daily life of dicking around with your bros and throwing grenades in cars n shit #instead of domestic settling down and being all serious and sappy all the time #its lovey dovey in the way of being like AHAHA IM HAVING SO MUCH FUN!!! yeah bro... i really like you too *hug* im glad youre in my life #i just think thats so much more swag because settling down just does not sit right for me #i think settling down sucks tf you mean theres no more adventures and always sunny shit? #i think fruk can get into that settling down domestic shit but im a firm believer itager cant #because their entire dynamic hinges upon italy coming in and making germanys boring ass lonely life fun by ruining it everyday #its not itager if they arent grabbing eachothers balls and acting like bros #ive said this to wiener but its the itager itapan juxisposition #itapan (japans onesided crush ofc) is great because they act gay but are just bros #and itager is great because they act like bros but are gay #idk its hard to explain the nuances of it all but just trust me when i say canon content and corollas sfw doujins are the only true itager #content #robooty asshole moment sorry guys somethings wrong with me #robooty kun

[oatbugs]

idk how to live so im going to talk to myself out loud until i do

#listen. take a deep breath. i know your bpm is high but you need to think with me for a second. #remember that you are paper thin. all your facets are sheets of paper and what you gave her is just another one. #make a new one. you dont need it. you dont need her to see you. i know you think you need her but you will be okay. i know its hard. #you wish you could have shown her how you loved her. listen to yourself. you are made of paper. #she might be concrete or maybe wood or maybe gold. you need to start laying your roots elsewhere. shut that thought down #and blink and listen. the parts you keep thinking of arent lost. they still happened and they are yours to keep. #there is beauty in this loss. tell me about the beauty in this loss. its okay to think about it. you got to see it all and nothing more #and this is great because it would have been bad. you know it would be violent in a way you dont need. you know this to be true. #you are going to look at that empty space in her shape and youre going to fill it with everything that happened when you knew her. #the memories with her but then also the the way your friends talked you through it. the game with the clovers. #your first allergic reaction you almost died and you couldnt stop laughing and you were held so close to their hearts. #learning the names for all the floursecent gene tracking dyes that everyone else knows already. about the exam - listen again. #i know you think if you fail your life is over but you need to try your best. youre not going to get a good grade in a uni test for the fir #youre going to make up for it. youre going to make sure you make up for it. do you understand? i love you. you have to do this. #right now you need to sit up. breathe. i know your heart hurts. go to the living room. grab something to eat. i dont care if you feel full. #youre going to clean your mattress heater. youre going to study a bit longer and then youre going to sleep. youre going to tell your mother #im sorry and i might genuinely fail a test. shes going to tell you its okay. if you do badly in this course you can just become a neurosurg #just agree. dont argue right now. its okay. youre okay. you are paper thin. i know any puncture hurts. #breathe. think of your friends. think of their hands in yours. it isnt eternal.youve lived through worse. the empty sky is still beautiful. #the lack of her is still beautiful

[menelaiad]

helen being smart does not make menelaus stupid.

#LOOK i am the queen of 'dumbass menelaus' memes. but its not something i ACTUALLY #think it's true. it's just really fucking funny to play with and dick around with #but some people ACTUALLY adhere to in how they view menelaus #just because he's not helen/odysseus smart doesn't make him stupid??? those aren't the only two #options??? like??? helen is really smart. it's part of her character in the odyssey #menelaus can just be some dude. with. yknow. normal dude intelligence lmfao #also if i may - menelaus is really fuckig emotionally smart #in that he can read people's feelings and know what to say VERY well #he does it in the iliad A Lot #with pat's body. with antilochus in the funeral games #and the iconic line that he KNEW agamemnon was going through it. so he just followed him around #to make sure he was okay #is he plan maker? no. is he a fighter? barely. #but my goD he has some redeeming qualities. stop sleeping on him #or only talking about him just to beat him down #the EMOTIONAL / FEELINGS whatever side to menelaus is #FASCINATING and BEAUTIFUL and so unique for the works in which he stars in #its literally said that menelaus isnt a good public speaker #he lets ody do the talking at the embassy etc. #BUT when it comes to his speech to antilochus its a fucking POWERFUL and INCREDIBLE speech #because it comes from his HEART. he's not planned it. #he isn't doing it for a public show. #it's how he feels in that moment and how he speaks upon seeing antilochus #im so sick. like actually sick. my fever could burn a house. #but it does not burn hotter than my love for menelaus son of atreus and king of sparta

[conscious-overflow]

Buffy rewatch S3E9 The Wish:

How would everyone know Xander cheated on Cordelia???? Like, who the fuck would have told anyone?????? Oz is the only one who maybe would have other friends he might try to talk it out with, so I guess his group? But it seems super unlikely.

I get wanting others to know for the drama, and to set Cordelia up to make the wish to Anya, but it's just a bit too unrealistic for me.

#buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #cordelia chase #xander harris #s3e9 #admittedly I was not really a part of groups that did a lot of gossiping in school #at least not with me #there were lots of rumors or wtvr about me in 9th grade #but that was cause of the girl I was dating #not sure if its rumors if its true? #like a ridiculous number of ppl knew who I was dating and would say things about it in the hallway #which I'm still real confused about honestly #the ppl who bullied me in the hallways made sense #but I never understood the ppl who just seemed aware of it and would mention something off hand to their friends? #like ppl i very much did not know and weren't part of my extended friend group