#i love his voice and the songs that hide so much pain and nostalgia

[zelphin124]

Error!Sans goes to therapy

Today is a very special day! I want to wish a grand and happy birthday to my friend @tehrogueva! I may be unable to draw, but I wanted to write something for you! I hope you have a wonderful day! Error!Sans belongs to LoverOfPiggies Ink!Sans belongs to Comyet Therapist!Sans belongs to TehRogueVA Enjoy!

~o0o~

"I-I-I swear Ink, I will murder y-y-you!"

"It'll be good for you!" Ink laughed as he shoved Error into the office. "It's helped me! Trust me, you'll like it, because it's all about you!"

Error scowled, slapping Ink's hands when he touched him. However, he didn't have the energy to resist Ink's nagging about the subject.

Therapy was all Ink had talked about for the past three weeks. He went on and on about fixing his flaws because he learned where they originated. Error didn't buy it. How can one possibly fix themselves when they were mistakes in the first place? Such anomalies shouldn't ever exist and need to be destroyed. Why should he care about them getting better if he would kill them anyway?

He was hit with a sense of nostalgia as he entered the room. A thick smell of vanilla entered his nose as the air around him stuck to his skin. It was very humid, and Error already hated it.

"He'll be in shortly!" Ink closed the door behind him. "I'll introduce you two!"

"I don't need your company or your help, squid," Error snapped, turning his head around. He paused for a second, surprised the glitch stutter in his voice had stopped when he entered the room.

"Hey, you won't even know I'm here, haha! I'll leave when he starts with ya!"

Error eyed Ink as the painter sat on a brown chair nearby, staring at the billboard. Error followed his gaze. There were a lot of red strings tied from peg to peg on different pictures on the billboard as if it represented a pattern or a lifestyle. There was a small desk below the billboard. It had a fire-lit candle to the right and a clipboard to the left. Once Error noticed the fire from the candle, he noticed that every part of the room was lit, and no shadows were cast.

Error sat down on a large sofa, sinking into it. He immediately felt at peace as he looked up. A fan was turning above him. Other than that, the tan walls were barren. The door was a darker brown than the walls, but everything felt so empty.

And Error loved it.

Besides Ink occasionally shifting, there was no sound. It reminded Error of his home in the Anti-Void. The room was lit with a soft yellow light, and it was cold. The vanilla smell didn't fade away.

Error tried to hide the fact he thoroughly enjoyed this room. "I don't have all day," he snapped at Ink. "Where is this therapist?"

"He's coming," Ink looked over anxiously. "I forgot to tell him I was bringing you, so maybe he's getting new papers for you!" Ink bobbed his head as if a song was playing in his head. He pulled out one of his notebooks and started to draw, his rainbow tongue sticking out as he colored in a previous picture.

Error scoffed to himself. Despite how much he hated the painter, there was always something captivating about him. He was goofy and unpredictable, along with annoying and heartless. He was fun to watch, at least.

They were enemies, they hated each other. Granted, Error hated everyone, and he had no intention to change that. But why did Ink come out of his way not to fight him but to bring him to this place? Especially after he...

Error thought back to when he destroyed the multiverse, and it made him question Ink even more. Even though the creators started to create different AUs again, most alternate universes were gone. X!Gaster hadn't been seen since. Yet, Ink didn't hold it against him, as if he'd forgiven him.

Error hated that. He didn't understand why Ink was suddenly so friendly to him. Ink got over his pain so quickly; something Error was never able to do, and he was jealous because of it. It's not fair...

The brown door opened, and a sweet skeleton stepped inside. His glasses hung from his non-existent ears. He wore an off-white cardigan and a green shirt. He wore a soft smile on his face before he locked eyes with Error. Error didn't bother to observe the rest of his appearance. Confusion filled the therapist's gaze, and Error grimaced. Significant, another stupid anomaly.

"Doc!" Ink shot up from his chair, walking up and hugging the therapist tightly.

Doc looked perplexed before he hugged Ink back. "Ink, there you are! I didn't see you," he smiled softly, still watching Error closely. "Did you bring a friend?"

"Yes! This is Error, Error, this is Doc!" Ink let go of Doc and happily smiled at Error.

Error's gaze went past Doc's eyes as he found his soul. It was an ordinary monster soul as he expected. However, it had a tint of light blue surrounding it. Although he found it strange, he didn't think about it too much as it jolted out of fear. He smirked to himself as Doc shuddered. The therapist's fear was amusing.

"Error, it's nice to meet you!" His voice didn't betray how the therapist was feeling. He stuck out his hand. "I'm Doc Sans; I'm assuming you came to get some therapy?"

"Didn't have a choice," Error glared at Ink and ignored the handshake. "Let's get this over with."

Doc withdrew his hand and sat down on the green chair. He flipped through the clipboard and wrote a few things down. Error knew he was afraid, and rightfully so. One wrong move and the Destroyer would tear this place apart. Why should he show mercy to this pathetic excuse for a life? Was this another one of Ink's tricks? If he ended up destroying Ink's trick, maybe Ink would finally feel the same pain that he did.

"I'll be nearby if you need anything!" Ink trotted toward the door, his eyes sparkling with stars and his grin wide. "Have fun Error!"

Error rolled his eyes as the painter disappeared. He sat back down on the couch, sinking into it. At least the therapy room was nice with its flat appearance. That made him want to destroy it less.

"So, Error, I've heard a lot about you," Doc smiled sweetly as he turned to him. "But I want you to tell me about yourself."

Error scoffed, shaking his head as he slouched in the couch. "The paint freak told you about me. Typical. What did he say?"

"You tell me," Doc tilted his head. "What should he have told me about you?"

Error thought for a moment before he replied. "I am the Destroyer of the Multiverse; I am the one who makes anomalies like yourself fearful for their lives-"

"No, I don't mean your status," Doc interrupted. "I want to know you. What do you do in your free time? What do you enjoy? Your job set aside, who are you?"

...What?

Error never heard of such a question. He started to feel different about this therapy thing. Did this anomaly really want to know? Did he really care? Why would he ask such a thing? No one had even asked him what he liked to do outside of destroying things...

No one expect Ink.

Well, Ink didn't really ask, he just kind of figured it out over the years.

"I uh..." Error glitched, shaking his head. It took a moment for him to regain his composure as he felt like he would crash any moment. "Not much... I search for the Omega Timeline; I chill at home and eat chocolate and watch UnderNovela... Sometimes I go to OuterTale."

"Those are good hobbies!" Doc encouraged, writing down what Error said. "Tell me about UnderNovela and OuterTale. Why do you like them?"

Error scoffed lightly, looking down at the floor as he recalled the show. "UnderNovela is funny. So much unnecessary drama, all in the right ways... And OuterTale..." He paused. There was always something different about OuterTale, something he could never put his finger on. It reminded him of the Anti-Void, just more beautiful. It felt like home as if he had been in a similar place for most of his life that he couldn't remember. "I don't know. It feels like I've already been there thousands of times. It's so empty and dark, yet beautiful."

"How does OuterTale make you feel?"

Error glitched again. Maybe this therapy thing wasn't so bad after all. "It feels like home."

"What is home to you?"

This anomaly was really making him think. "I don't know," he snapped, losing patience. "It just... does."

Doc nodded and adjusted his glasses before scribbling on his clipboard. Error sank further into the couch, crossing his arms. How was this supposed to fix his problems again? He didn't see how this was helping. If anything, Ink just gave him another place to destroy.

"Tell me about your life," Doc broke the temporary silence. "Tell me everything that you remember."

Error started to backtrack to his first memory, waking up in the Anti-Void. He was vague about events like meeting Ink, kidnapping Swap, destroying the multiverse, etc. He pulled a few strings from his eyes and started to knit with them in his hands. He watched Doc get nervous as he played with them, but when he turned his attention back to his fingers, it felt normal to talk about what he had been through while he knitted a blue scarf.

He glitched more as he talked about the different AUs he destroyed before his big finale. He started casually until he got to the people's screams and tears. At the time, he had laughed evilly, enjoying their pain. However, it didn't help the pain that he felt himself. No matter how many people he killed and destroyed places, that pain remained. Nothing he did lessen that mental agony he had suffered from for so long. A sinking feeling rested in his chest. It engulfed him as he kept thinking back. Is this... what regret feels like?

Doc listened intently, asking clarifying questions until Error was done. "Error, do you remember anything before waking up in the Anti-Void?"

"No, I told you that," Error shook his head. "I just was here."

"There could be some hidden stuff there that has caused you to act the way you have," Doc explained. "And it might explain how you feel inside, too." He got up slowly and set his notebook down. Grabbing some red string and paper from a drawer, he flipped the billboard over and started hanging various things Error mentioned up. When he was done, he ran the red string through the various events, many leading back to the empty space, what happened before the Anti-Void.

Error watched and studied what he was doing closely. He would never admit it, but he marveled at how Doc traced his maturing behavior back to the X-Event, his respect for Ink back to Swap, his hatred for touch from Nightmare, how he woke up like an angry manbaby, and how that was caused by something he couldn't even remember.

"Unfortunately, our time is up today as I have another client coming in," Doc sighed. "But we can unpack all of this together and help you get to a place you want to be."

"And if I'm happy with how I am?" Error snapped, hiding the fact he actually wanted to come back and unpack his life.

"Are you?"

Once again, the therapist had left the destroyer speechless. He didn't like how Doc bested him with simple questions that no one had even bothered to ask him. Someone was asking Error about himself for the first time in his life, and he didn't know how to feel about it.

Doc smiled softly; he had his answer. "I'm assuming you're like Ink, and time is irrelevant to you. If you choose to come back, just let me know, and I'll make some room for you, okay?"

"Yeah, whatever," Error rolled his eyes and stood up. "Are we done here?"

Doc shuddered once more but tried to hide it. "Yeah, we are done for today."

"Good," Error threw away the scarf he was working on and walked through the door without a goodbye. What a waste of time, he thought. I could have been watching UnderNovela.

As he walked out of the office and to a place where he could travel to the Anti-Void freely, he paused, turning around. Usually, Error would immediately destroy any AU he went to. He glitched, glancing around. His eyes softened as his gaze saw Doc Sans waving at him with a warm smile.

Huh. A slight smile crossed Error's face as his anger disappeared. He stepped through his portal, having done no damage to this new alternate universe.

Maybe there's more to these... anomalies...

#undertale au #utmv #sans au #error sans #doc sans #ink sans #therapy #tehrogue #happy birthday! #I hope you liked it! #dont expect good writing from me at this hour #(;

[triforce-of-mischief]

It’s time to have fun and gush over your works! Post up to three scenes from your story/stories that you love and talk about them! :D

Oooo thank you, this should be fun!

They each were reading; Malon had a book on archery and she wasn’t able to make out anything of the foreign Hylian displayed on the spines of the others. She subtly glanced up every now and then to see that while Four and Legend had started out on opposite sides of the couch, they both kept shifting their weight so they had eventually scooted next to each other. By the time their elbows were touching, Malon realized that Four had not turned a page in over five minutes. He kept squeezing his eyes shut with a pained scowl, and finally slipped a bookmark in between his current pages. Malon put her book aside as well, standing when Four did. Legend looked annoyed at the second time his brother had left his side that day but stubbornly kept reading.

“Are you feeling all right, hon?” Malon intercepted Four and reached out to feel his forehead with the back of her hand. Like Wild had the day before, Four flinched slightly at the touch. Unlike Wild, he refused to meet her eyes and pulled back on his own.

“I’m fine. Just a headache is all. I’ll go upstairs and try to rest a bit.” Four explained in a hushed voice, walking past her towards the stairs.

“Okay then, I hope you feel better soon.” Malon called, equally hushed, then returned to her chair. She and Legend spent a few minutes pretending to read, her with increasingly frequent glances at the stairs and him with slowly curling shoulders due to the lack of physical contact.

-Mom of Four

A lot of thought went into every bit of this story, and I had fun hiding tons of little details. At first, Malon had a book about gardening but it just didn't feel right. Then I had a "duh!" moment and switched it to archery to reference that one doodle. And hopefully you noticed Legend in the background: he's very subtle about it but he also spends the day quiet, lonely, and more than a little touch-starved. This may be Four's spotlight but you better believe Legend is standing just behind the curtain.

A flash of lightning illuminated the cabin for a split second, and Legend saw Wind’s wide eyes staring straight back. “Gah! Quit that, you little creep,” Legend grumbled. He shifted until his back was turned to Wind. The roll of distant thunder finally reached them, and Legend groaned. “Yeah, nobody’s coming for us tonight.”

“At least we’ve got each other!” Wind chirped.

Legend heard rustling and suddenly felt a warm weight pressing against his back. “Are you…?”

“Shhh,” Wind giggled. With a contented hum, he wiggled a little closer to Legend. The vet rolled his eyes, but allowed himself a secret smile. It was nice, being close to his brother without Warriors or the others teasing them.

“This reminds me of whenever we have to hide from a hurricane on Outset,” Wind mused. “We all sleep in the same house and tell funny stories and eat cookies by lanternlight and-”

A bolt of lightning struck much closer this time, the resulting thunder making Legend flinch involuntarily.

“And,” Wind continued as if he had never been interrupted, “Sometimes we sing.”

Before Legend could process this information, Wind cleared his throat and began to sing.

“Now the rain is coming down hard and it’s getting dark The thunder is cracking and the lightning’s lighting my yard And the shadows seem to lurk, cause this lantern doesn’t work But don’t you worry when the lights go out.”

-A Storm of Fluff

This is from the fluffiest dang thing I've written, and it still surprises me how I managed to chase all the naughty angsty thoughts away. Legend's scared of the storm? Never mind that, Wind's singing a Doodlebops song! That might be one of the best ideas I've had, it's so cute and a fun way to spread some nostalgia. And of course there's Wind going 👁👁 in the dark lol.

Sky sounded guilty, which immediately put Legend on edge. “Since you’re awake, I wanted to warn you before the nurse got back. You, um.” He bit his lip, reluctant to make himself tell Legend the rest.

“Just spit it out,” Legend mumbled, a hint of his normal snark coming through.

Sky gave Legend a faint smile before continuing. “They’re going to give you some medicine. I’m not sure what triggers you the most about being in the hospital, but I’m betting this is one of them. You’re gonna get a couple of shots, okay?”

Legend’s chest tightened more than he would have thought possible given the circumstances, his heart beginning to pound. His head swirled, past and present combining in a mishmash of fear. “Okay,” he gasped, begging his body to calm down.

He had always had a mild aversion to needles, leading him to seek coping techniques and avoid piercing his ears even though just about every other kid at school had at least one pair of earrings. After the accident, though, they had the added bonus of being associated with the pain and confusion of waking up, the intense discomfort of having something buried inside him that didn’t belong, the helplessness of having to endure while knowing that the same treatment hadn’t been able to save her.

“Whoa, Legend, you have to breathe, come on, please-”

Legend was suddenly aware that he was in fact not breathing, mouth slightly open like a fish on land. He forced his congested lungs back into an uneven rhythm, coughing roughly as soon as he regained enough oxygen.

“There you go. It’ll be over fast, right? At least you don’t need an IV,” Sky said, trying to reassure him.

Legend flinched. “Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth, “talk about that.”

Sky stood from his chair, still keeping Legend’s hand in a firm grip. To Legend’s surprise, he sat on the bed, one leg hanging off the edge.

“Is that even allowed?” Legend asked, not wanting his friend to get in trouble. Would he get reprimanded? Banned from his room? Legend quickly extinguished that last thought.

Sky gave him a confident smile. “It is now. Besides, if I’m going to get sick I think it’s too late to prevent it now.”

Someone loudly knocked on the door, making them both jump. Legend’s head whipped around and he stared at the metal handle, eyes wide.

Sky reached over and gently turned Legend’s head back to face him. “Can you be brave for me?” he asked quietly, and Legend gave a small nod. “Good.” Sky pulled Legend closer until his face rested against Sky’s shoulder, unable to see. “It’s better if you don’t look,” Sky whispered as the door opened.

-Sicktember 2022 Day 11

This was a rollercoaster to write, and it was fun to combine pneumonia, Koholint angst, and a fair bit of projection into one prompt fill. Just as Legend thinks he can stand being in the hospital as long as Sky's by his side, he gets warned about his next treatment and gets a panic attack. Sky may not be the best at knowing what to say, but dang it he's going to keep trying until he gets it right. Legend needs it too, his panic has overtaken common sense and his instinct is to look at the equipment even though that's the last thing he should be doing. If Sky wasn't with him, well. Let's just say this would be a far, far worse experience.

#lu #lu four #lu malon #lu legend #lu wind #lu sky #fable writes #fable's asks #chatting with anon!

[onlyswan]

meet me behind the mall | jjk

→ pairing: jungkook x f!reader

→ genre: smut sigh, fluff kinda

→ warnings: exhibitionism, public sex, dirty talk, slight ? degredation, calls her a slut once, fingering, handjob, oral (m. and f. receiving), choking, spitting, cum eating / swallowing, unprotected sex, facial (this term is so 😭) lmk if i miss anything plz

→ word count: 3.3k

summary: jungkook makes you live for the thrill of it all.

note: this was an impulsive write idk what possessed me today frends but have at it >_> semi proofread it’s 5am goodbyr

—

it’s one of the things you first learned about him. jungkook loves taking photos. he loves capturing moments with a simple click of a camera. he finds an unexplainable comfort and bittersweet nostalgia in finding old photographs in his drawer, in his pockets, tucked in between the pages of his textbooks. it’s like finding little treasures all over the place, you can hear his voice in your head, can see the pretty twinkles of passion and fondness in his pretty doe eyes.

so when he told you all about the new photobooth at the arcade, followed by a text that simply said meet me behind the mall, you didn’t particularly imagine that you would end up in this position. you can see the shutter going off even though your eyelids are closed as jungkook’s tongue is basically shoved down your throat. your panties is pulled to the side and two of his fingers are thrusting in and out of your cunt, curling deliciously to stimulate your sweet spot that has your thighs shaking uncontrollably every fucking time.

how naive of you to think that your boyfriend spontaneously texted you at eight in the evening to meet up and simply take cute couple pictures in film. of course, you do have a fair share of scandalous photos, but they’re all conveniently stored and locked away in your phones. this is something entirely new and as embarrassing it is to admit, thrilling. yourself from one year ago never would’ve guessed what her future self is doing right now. how the desires in you can easily be fueled to life just by the trailing of jungkook’s fingers on the smoothness of your thighs, his lips nipping at your neck, or even the simple thought of having his cock filling you up to the brim.

you can’t help but to giggle against his mouth. all of your senses are heightened at this moment, your heart beating aggressively in your chest. he pulls away slightly but his gaze stays on your pink and swollen parted lips, drunk eyes taking in your disheveled state.

“what’s going in that pretty little mind of yours?” he smirks, thumb sneakily rubbing your clit. you try your best to hold out your moan but a broken whine comes out, your head throwing back against the wall of the limited space you’re both squeezed into. only a black curtain and an ‘occupied’ sign in red bold and capital letters separated you from the world outside, where games are being played by people of all ages; loud sound effects and songs from the 2000’s and 2010’s mixing into an ear numbing noise that can only be recognized from an arcade center; and tickets gathered are being exchanged for cute stationary items and trinkets.

“you’re so, so dirty.” you say to him, eyes rolling back as his fingers never let up on their toe curling pace, only making you lose your inhibitions and self-control more than anything else. you clench around them involuntarily, drenching his hand with your juices. “was this your plan all along?”

your eyes widen in shock when the sound of his palm slapping your bare cunt filled the booth, the stinging pain registering in your mind next. “are you fucking crazy? someone might hear!” you whisper angrily at him, but his dark and blown out eyes made you shrink back in your seat. his intimidating, and almost condescending, expression have you gushing against his hand that is now petting your pussy to soothe the pain he inflicted.

“watch your mouth. you and this fucking skimpy dress are the only ones dirty here. you know what this shit does to me.” he smiles at you sweetly. “are you sure this was my plan? are we playing mind games here, baby girl?” his hand comes down from your face to play with the cloth of your blue dress, the other thrusting two of his fingers in you again, then adding another. the stretch has you gripping tightly on his shirt, not having anything else to hold on to.

“fuck, ahhh- jungkook. don’t stop.” god, you are dripping all over, your wetness staining your seat. it makes your cheeks flush in shame.

“just wanted to look pretty for you, i-is all.” you mewl at him, blinking innocently. the camera is not forgotten by jungkook. in fact, it’s one of the things getting him more riled up. the almost blinding light of the flash shines on your soft skin, and the sweat that has formed on your temples and your neck. your pupils are blown and eyelids drooping caused by the pleasure he is giving you. it’s visible how difficult it is for you to keep in all your noises from the people outside the damn curtain when you’re so lost in the feeling of his fingers inside of you. all because of him. your fucked out state got jungkook gritting his teeth, his dick twitching inside his pants. jesus christ, you get him so fucking turned on and desperate for it without even trying. your beauty is seductive and enchanting and effortless. there is no point in hiding how crazy he is for you.

“my pretty girl. you dressed yourself all nice for me?” he presses a chaste kiss on your lips, before he wraps his hand around your throat, pressing at the right places just enough to make your mind all fuzzy. “i’m such a lucky man. i love you so much.”

your eyes roll back at the back of your head at the all consuming feeling taking over senses. you don’t think you can answer correctly if ever someone asks for your name or the colors of the goddamn traffic signs. “y-yeah, for you, of course. love you so much.”

he gives you a satisfied hum, moving down to squeeze one of your breasts with his large hand before pinching your nipple from outside the cotton of your dress. “mhmm, holy fuck. you’re always so sensitive. so easy to please. am i making you feel good?” you don’t know how he can act so casual while you’re basically falling apart in his hands, but for some sick reason, it stirs up the arousal in your belly even more.

“y-yes, kook, i’m so close, please, please, please,” you cry out desperately, tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you squeeze his fingers with your walls uncontrollably. “wait, ohhh, stop. stop. i can’t cum here. i- it’s gonna be a mess, this is so embar- fuck, jungkook!” your squeal dies down in your throat when your boyfriend kneels on the ground and starts sucking your clit in his mouth as his fingers inside of you became more aggressive, hitting all the right places that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. you cover your mouth with your hand to muffle your desperate and whiny sounds, suddenly becoming aware of where the two of you are right now.

you grip his hair with your hands to steady yourself and unconsciously grind your cunt against his face, his eager tongue doing very sinful things for the sole purpose of making you come undone. he pulls you closer to the edge with his strong arm so he can have better access, eating you out like a man feasting on the divine food of the gods. divine. that’s one perfect word to describe you.

he flicks your clit teasingly before wrapping his pink and plump lips around it again. the overwhelming sight almost makes you want to burst into tears. “hmm, cum for me, baby.” your body jerks in his hold, his words of permission acting as the trigger for your orgasm. he drinks you up greedily, his tongue replacing his fingers’ place in fucking into you, letting you ride out your high.

he comes up to kiss you, making you taste yourself in his mouth. you can even feel his wet chin. you moan against him when two fingers dip inside you again, and then he’s having you suck on them almost too enthusiastically. you’re still in a daze from your release, and with jungkook, you’re basically down for anything and everything. you open your eyes to meet his, and if you aren’t already fucked out with his fingers choking you, his hooded eyes will have reduced you into a blabbering mess.

“you’re always so good to me.” he says with a raspy voice. he takes out his fingers and wipes it on his shirt before pulling you in for another kiss. “let’s get out of here so i can fuck you properly like my girl deserves, okay?” you nod meekly, trying to hide your excitement. he fixes you up to make you look presentable enough to walk in public, combing your hair with his fingers and straightening out your dress.

“can’t forget these. don’t want anyone else seeing you like this. it’s for my eyes only.” he gathers all the developed films from the booth, facing you with a teasing smile.

“for your eyes only.” you agree, looking up at him. you open the small backpack you brought along with you and he stuffs them all inside mindlessly, his cock still straining painfully in his pants and he might just lose his mind if he’s still not inside of your pussy in the next five minutes.

“can’t walk properly,” you whine out once you step out of the booth, your boyfriend supporting you by the waist.

“sorry, baby.” he presses an apologetic kiss on your temple. “but i’m not done with you yet.” he really doesn’t give a fuck if anyone heard the both of you at all, but he knows that you’re starting to worry, so he makes sure that you keep your eyes on him as you walk your way out of the place.

“are we going to your place? or mine?” you ask once you get out, the cool air of the mall embracing you. you shiver lightly. your boyfriend doesn’t respond, but when he starts dragging you towards the movie theater that is just beside the arcade, you realize the answer to your question.

“jungkook, really?” you hiss at him, but don’t make any efforts to stop him as he leads you to the restrooms.

“i’m so fucking hard right now, babe. i can’t wait anymore.” they’re about to close up in an hour, so the place is basically deserted. but still, you can’t believe what you’re about to do right now. he peeks in the women’s and once he made sure it’s clear, you go in to the farthest cubicle.

“damn woman,” his throaty chuckle makes your center throb again as you immediately pull down his sweatpants along with his boxers, his big cock slapping against his stomach. you lick a stripe from his balls up to his tip, then gathering saliva in your mouth and letting it drip down his length. his breathing gets heavier at the sight of doing such a filthy action without him asking you to. he strokes your cheek as you jack him off and give his head kitten licks, your spit acting as an effective lube.

“put it in your mouth now, baby.” he says softly, grasping your hair to guide your mouth on his cock. “choke on it, yeah?” you hum in submission to his request, relaxing your throat to take in as much of him as you can. you start to bob your head up and down to get used to the feeling, your hand still wrapped around the few inches left.

“fuck, you look so pretty like this. i’ve been thinking about it all day.” his confession made you all warm inside. you’ve always wondered how you managed to become his girlfriend. sometimes, it feels to good to be true. knowing the effect you have on him even when you’re not around made you even more determined to blow his damn mind. to be the only star of his wildest dreams.

you go down on him until your nose reach his pubic area, carefully breathing out through it. “oh my god, that’s my girl.” he thrusts his hip forward and holds your head down in place, making you choke on him like he wanted to. his moans sends tingles to your pussy and you rub your thighs together in a pitiful attempt to relieve yourself of some pressure. he lets you breathe in some air before you take him in your mouth again, swallowing around his length as you move your head up and down.

“ohhh, fuck. your mouth is s-so warm. you like this huh? sucking me off outside our rooms for the first time?” he can’t help but to move his hips as well, instinctively following your mouth. your moans vibrate on his dick, and he hisses at the added sensation. “and you called me what? so, so dirty? turns out you’re just as fucking filthy, baby.” and there it is again, the mischievous smile on his face that makes your knees (that you’re sure will be bruising soon enough) weak. you know that he’s right. you can’t help but to whimper around him when you feel wetness drip from your hole. you want to touch yourself so bad but your hands on your boyfriend’s flexing muscular thighs are what’s keeping you steady and grounded.

“ohh- ah, fuck fuck fuck! are you fucking kidding me?” his body jerks when you take all of him and stay still, contracting your throat around him and massaging his balls in your small and soft hand. his brain goes on a frenzy at the waves of pleasure rippling in his body, sweat rolling down his temples and abdomen working hard to stop himself from cumming down your throat. “s-shit, stop it, stop it, stop, i’m gonna blow my load.”

you pull him out with a pop, hand gripping his base to keep his orgasm at bay. his glassy eyes meet your own, and you give him a wink. “are you gonna fuck me now?”

a shiver runs up jungkook’s spine. “you’re so fucking hot. come here.” he helps you get up and snakes his tongue in your mouth, pinning you on the other side of the cubicle. his hand sneaks in under your dress to cup your center, groaning against your mouth when he felt how wet you are. “shit, you’re soaking. did you get this turned on by sucking my dick?”

“really turned on. i love blowing you.” you twirl a strand of his hair around your finger, blinking up at him with a smile.

“you’re actually killing me here.” he chuckles, squeezing your ass and pulling you close to grind himself on you. he drags down your panties until you step out of them, throwing it on top of your backpack. he tucks your hair behind your ear and whispers. “jump.” you obey, wrapping your legs around his waist.

he pumps his cock a few times before teasingly running the tip along your wet folds, a nudge on your clif making you moan quietly. “put it in, please. jungkook? i’ve been good, right?”

“shhh, i got you.”

you hold on to his neck tightly as you let yourself succumb to the pleasure. it’s amazing how you can feel so stretched out from the very beginning, only his tip yet breaching your walls. you never really got used to it. “you’re so big, kook.” you cry out against his shoulder as he sinks his entire length into you. your praise inflates his ego. he lets you adjust for a moment, peppering kisses along your neck and shoulder.

when you gave him the signal, he begins thrusting into you, gradually picking up to a rough and unforgiving pace he knows you like. the lewd squelching sounds of your connected sex filled the empty room.

“sh-should’ve done this sooner. ahh fuck, why does this feel so good?” you’re out of your mind. you can’t remember a time you felt this horny. and to be brutally honest, he’s fucking you dumb right now. you can feel every ridge of his cock in you, can feel his tip furiously and consistently stimulating the spot in you that has you writhing in his arms, that along with his pelvis grinding against your clit each time he fucks back into you.

“jesus, are you hearing yourself right now? you like doing it outside with me, baby?”

“yes, yes! oh, harder, please. m-more, i’m close again.” you sob out, biting on his shoulder to cover your cries.

“can’t believe i got myself a filthy little slut here.” he shakes his head in mock disbelief, adjusting his hold on you and fucking you with a much fiercer drive to make you cream on his cock this time. “f-fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight.” he breathes out a laugh followed by a broken moan, your soft walls enveloping him in your wamth. “cum when you need to, hmm? you’ve been so good to me.”

you mutter countless thank you’s mixed with your moans and whimpers, the pleasure getting too much to bear. you throw your head back as you orgasm on your boyfriend’s cock, clenching around him uncontrollably as he fucks you through it, desperate to reach his own high. your juices drip down to his balls, and it makes him crazier. he takes the opportunity create marks on your neck, sucking and biting red and purple on your skin.

it’s not long before overstimulation takes place, but you don’t complain, not when it feels this good. another orgasm hits you, not as intense as the first two, but it still got you seeing stars and your body shaking against the wall.

“did you just cum again? oh god, fucking shit. i’m there- so fucking close. you feel so- oh, so good. love you. love you a lot.”

“i want to swallow your cum.” your voice is barely there, but jungkook hears you just fine. he almost chokes on his own spit upon registering your words in his brain. without wasting any time, he sets you down on the floor and you kneel infront of him, mouth open and tongue out.

he jacks himself off while you generously lick at his frenulum, looking up at him expectantly. the sight of you all eager and impatient for his cum finally triggers his release, aiming for your tongue but some still landing on your cheeks and chin as he’s too overwhelmed and shaken to see straight. you swallow happily, licking the rest from your fingers.

“god, i love you.” he says quietly, pulling you up from the floor and embracing you, but you wiggle out of his grasp.

“love you too but gross, gross, gross. i need to go home and shower.” you whine out, twirling as you try and fix your appearance again.

“not you acting like a brat once you got what you wanted.” he pinches your waist jokingly. he takes tissue from the dispenser to clean up the wetness that dripped down all the way to your thighs, being the loving boyfriend that he is.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you pout at him. “i’m so tired and gross. i hate you.”

“are you asking for it again?”

“no, i swear to god. you owe me a bubble bath and a massage.”

“okay, fine. my place then.” he gives up, shaking his head with a laugh at your change of mood. “i love you. can i get a kiss then?”

you tiptoe to reach him, slightly pulling him down by the collar of his shirt to give him a smooch. “i love youuu.”

once you both make yourself presentable (again) to the best of your abilities, you head out of the restroom first. you notice the cashier at the popcorn place eyeing you suspiciously, especially when jungkook comes out to meet you a few minutes later. you hide yourself behind him in shame.

you walk out of the mall with his hand over your shoulder, yours on his waist. you look at him questioningly when he covers your neck with more of your hair. “maybe i made a little too much.” he winces apologetically.

“we are never doing that again.” you sigh, your legs still feeling weak but you will yourself to make it all the way to the parking lot.

“what? you said you liked it!”

“it was during the moment. i was delirious.”

jungkook rolls his eyes. “you’re lying. let’s see, because that’s also what you said the first time we tried choking.”

“jungkook! shut up!”

—

note: i never know how to finish these runs and hides

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook one shot #bts fluff #bts smutt #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Fangs//i bet you're real sweet with her

Request: You my friend are the queeen 👑 of songfics. Any chance you would want to write a fic for the song Bitter by Fletcher? With any of my boys Malachai/Reggie/Fangs/Pea you can choose 😘

hey! brit! @wayward-river this is for you, my love! enjoy! also, this is the last request i have! i did it!! well done me!! requests will be open soon, so keep your eyes peeled! 

The world may have moved on and evolved, but when you’re stuck in Riverdale, it feels like you’re still in the same unknown decade, no matter how long you stay for. 

Four years after graduation, you’re still waiting tables at Pop’s, despite the rest of your friends moving on. The only people left behind is you, Toni, Sweet Pea and Fangs. But what was once known the four musketeers, now has a huge divide between them. 

You still talk to Toni, but she talks more with Fangs. You and Fangs don’t talk to each other anymore due to a very messy ending of an almost six year relationship. Sweet Pea and Fangs only really talk to each other when they have to. Sweet Pea’s pissed because of what Fangs did to you, despite you telling him that you don’t want to be the reason they fall out, but he still sticks by your side. And Fangs is pissed at him for taking your side. 

Toni and Sweet Pea are still close but not as much as they used to be. The only plus side is the fact that you and Sweet Pea are closer than before, but that comes at a cost, because he’s stuck in between the messiest breakup in Riverdale history, and there’s nothing he can really do except sit and listen to you complain. 

Not that he minds though, as long as you keep giving him secret staff discount on his food, he’s fine listening to you mope about Fangs. 

“I just-” You sigh, your head dropping to rest on the table. The clock ticks above you and you can feel some of the other waitresses glaring at you, as they will time to move quicker so they can have their own breaks. “Do you know when you’re on the outside of an inside joke? And everyone else knows it but you have no idea what they’re talking about and it makes you feel really lonely.” 

“Lime.” He chuckles and you stare at him confused. “Sorry, you weren’t there.” 

“That doesn’t help Sweet Pea.” You slump in the stool and stare out of the coffee machine.

In the reflection you see a group of teenagers sat at the far end of the diner and you’re taken back to when that used to be you. You and the rest of the serpents would sit for hours, just talking and eating. Now those days are far gone, the only time you would ever be in the same place as Fangs would be to fight him. 

“Hey. Sorry to interrupt.” An older woman invades your thoughts and casts a shadow over you. You pull your gaze away from the shiny metal and stare up at her. “I really wanted Coke but you guys only seem to have Pepsi.” 

“I’m on my break sorry.” You force a smile. The rehearsed customer service voice coming out naturally. “But I’m sure one of my colleagues would be more than happy to help.” You add and point to the various members of staff trying to look busy. You glare at the newest member, Emma, who has the coldest eyes and fakest smile you have ever seen. She’s been a pain in your ass since she got here, and she hasn’t stopped since. You’re just hoping the new girl starting today is going to be a lot nicer. 

“Ughhh.” You groan and lean your head on the counter again. “I just remembered I’m training a new girl today.” 

“I thought you’d just done that.” 

“I have.” You grumble and look up at him. “But because I’m the most experienced member of staff, apparently it’s also my job to make sure they don’t put tea in the coffee machine and to keep the condiments separate.” You add and fiddle with the salt packet lying in front of you. 

“Well, I’m gonna be here for a little bit longer. I don’t start till three, so I can keep you company.” 

“Thanks.” You smile. “Where are you going today?” 

“Just to Greendale and back.” 

“Come round when you finish...we can drink what will be left of the night away.” 

“Deal.” He smiles and grabs your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Sweet Pea’s phone lights up beside you and you peer over his arm to see who it is. 

“Don’t bother.” You say when he reaches for it. “It’s just your mom.” You add when he looks at you confused and his face soon falls. 

“Oh.” He grumbles. “I told her to leave me alone.” 

“I’m sure she’ll get the message soon.” You try your best to sound convincing. But you’ve been repeating that sentence for seven years and she still doesn’t seem to get it. No matter how many times Sweet Pea tells her that he’s better off without her. 

For a while you thought it had worked. Nobody had heard from her in almost 6 months, but then she popped back up and ruined the progress that Sweet Pea had been making of having a stable life. 

“And if not. I’ll make sure she does.” You add making him snort a laugh. A soft smile twitches at your own lips as you watch him laugh and then shove a few fries in his mouth. Your hand reaches out to steal some but he catches it and shoves you away making you pout. “Hey! Technically I paid for those. The least you can do is share.” 

“What?” He asks through a mouthful of food and you pull a face. “I can’t hear you over the chewing.” He adds and shoves the rest of them in his mouth.

“You’re disgusting.” You shake you head making him laugh loudly. For a good minute, everything feels normal. It feels like you’re just sat with your friend and praying for time to slow down so you don’t have to go back to work. 

But eventually time does catch up with you, and as soon as the clock strikes quarter past you have to haul yourself back up, grab your rag and get on. The song on the jukebox flips and you’re suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia. 

The opening notes float through the air, and all of sudden you can see you and Fangs dancing right in front of you. 

3am in December during a snowstorm. The worst Riverdale had seen for years and the two of you were hiding in the warmth of Pop’s until it went away. You were the only ones in and so Fangs decided to make the most out of the empty diner, and the two of you danced stupidity around the entire place, much to the amusement of the very bored and very tired workers. 

Tears spring to your eyes and you let out a shaky breath before fiddling with your fingers. 

“Y/n?” Sweet Pea asks. “You okay?” You nod and Sweet Pea stares back at you. Your shiny eyes and wobbly lip really doesn’t help your case of ‘i’m over it!’, but for now he decides to leave it. In the three months since you broke up, you’ve already cried more times than he can count, and that’s just at work. He doesn’t want to see you cry again. If he had his way, you’d never cry again. Not ever. 

“I’m fine. I know you think I’m stupid but it’s just how I feel.” You shrug and his expression softens. He grabs your hand, stopping you from walking away and you look at your intwined fingers. 

“I have never once thought you were stupid.” He says seriously and you swallow thickly. “Well, apart from the time I dared you to steal FP’s bike and you actually did it.” He adds, the atmosphere being too serious for the two of you. 

“I never got caught though.” You point your pen at him, a smile curling the corners of your lips and Sweet Pea smiles back at you. 

“It was still stupid.” He replies and you roll your eyes. 

“Hey, Pea?” You ask. “Do you know if Fangs is with anybody. I just, I can’t shake the feeling that somebody else is in my shoes right now. You know, doing all of the stuff we used to do.”  

“I don’t think so.” He shrugs and you nod slowly. 

“Good.” You nod and hold your head higher. “I’m the best he’s ever going to have anyway.” You add making him chuckle. 

“Very true.” He laughs. “Y/n? Do you think you might be-I dunno, maybe just a bit bi-” 

“I’m not bitter.” You defend and he sends you a look. 

“Sure you’re not.” He sips his coffee. “You are dressed in yellow though. And what fruit is yellow?” 

“A le-” 

“A lemon!” He interrupts, a stupid grin taking over his expression as waits for you to answer. 

“Okay.” You nod and grab your notepad from the table. “I’m walking away now. There you go Emma, you can sneak out the back to text a man that is definitely not your husband. 

“Oh, hi.” Someone taps your shoulder as you’re walking away making you quickly spin around. The girls almost walks into you and a string of apologies fall from her mouth as she quickly looks around to make sure no one saw. 

Her brown hair stops at her waist and curls a little bit near the end. Her bright blue eyes sparkle under the florescent lighting, and her pink lips curl into a nervous smile as she looks around. You glance at Sweet Pea and roll your eyes when you see him not so subtly checking her out. 

“Can I help?” You ask and she quickly looks back at you, a bright red blush creeping up her cheeks. 

“Yes. Hi, sorry. I’m Olivia. I start today.” She says and sticks her hand out in front of you. You shake it and send a glare to Sweet Pea who is still checking her out and he rolls his eyes at you before scrolling through his phone. 

“Lovely to meet you Olivia.” You smile. “Follow me and I’ll show you the ropes.” 

“I would so not mind seeing either of you with ropes.” Sweet Pea mumbles and you grit your teeth. 

“Would you excuse me for just a second?” She nods, eyes wide as she watches you slap Sweet Pea over the head with the rag. He jumps and yelps from the sudden attack before rubbing his head and scowling at you. “Okay, where were we?” You ask, a smile returning to her lips as she just stares at you in disbelief. “It’s fine. We’re friends.” You shrug and walk her to the counter. 

“It doesn’t make it okay!” Sweet Pea shouts. 

“Do you want your bill yet...your full one?” You add and he slumps back in his seat, his arms crossed in defeat. 

“Okay, so do you have any waitressing experience?” 

“Yes!” She smiles. “I used to work in a diner like this one back in New York.” She says and your eyes widen at the mention of New York.

“Oh, so you’re an out of towner?” You ask while showing her around. “This is the kitchen. Basically you get an order, you clip it on there and then the food will come through here. The only time we ever really need to go into the kitchen is if there is a mistake or it’s your turn to put the bins out. There’s a rota in the office but I’ll show you that later.” 

“Got it.” She nods. “Yeah. I moved here a few months ago. I’ve been trying to find a job since I moved but there’s only so much you can do in a small town.” She explains and you nod knowingly. 

“Why would you ever leave New York for Riverdale. Did you get lost or something?” You tease and she rolls her eyes playfully. 

“No.” She shakes her head. “I came here just as a little break to get away from the city, and then I met a guy and I haven’t been back.” She says and your eyes widen. 

“You stayed for a boy?” You ask in disbelief and she nods, with an embarrassed smile. “Wow.” You add. “This is the main eating area as you can see. We all have our sections, again, the rota, but you’ll be paired with me for today so you won’t need to know where you are until your next shift. And be warned, if you see him-” You point at Sweet Pea and he waves in return. “Ignore everything he says.” You finish and his face falls. 

“I’m gonna stop keeping you company if you’re not careful.” He huffs and you roll your eyes. 

“How else are you going to spend your free time if not here?” He shrugs and spins around the chair. When you had more friends, you used to need a booth to fit all of you in and even then you had to steal chairs from other tables. Now Sweet Pea just sits on the stools by the till so he can chat to you. 

Sometimes when it’s late and you’re nearing the end of a long shift, you’re sure you can see the ghosts of past versions of yourselves sat in the corner booth. Their laugher filling the air and reminding you of a happier time. 

“You guys are a cute couple.” Olivia coos and you and Sweet Pea stare at each other in disgust. 

“We are not a couple.” You say quickly and distance yourself away from him. 

“You would be lucky to be called my girlfriend.” He says and making you laugh. 

“Yeah, I’m really missing out.” You reply. “We’re not a couple.” You repeat, looking at Olivia this time and she nods while trying to suppress a smile. 

“Got it. Not a couple.” 

“Anyway, tell us about this man that seemingly turned your world upside down.”  

“He’s amazing!” She starts and you suddenly start to regret asking. This is definitely not going to help the ever growing feeling that you’re going to be alone forever. “He recently got a new job as a truck driver. At the minute he’s just doing to make some money, but it’s not what he wants to do. And he got a new little flat with his friend and it’s great. He’s an amazing cook...like the best. And he’s so handsome. Sometimes I look at him and I seriously wonder if he was crafted by God himself. He is that good, he has made me believe in God.”

“...wow.” You choke a little. 

“Yeah...wow.” Sweet Pea adds and the two of you share an impressed look. She chuckles shyly and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“He sounds sweet.” You smile and a blush creeps up her neck as she fiddles with her apron. “Who is he? Maybe I know him.” 

“Fangs. Fangs Fogarty.” She replies and your jaw drops. The cup in your hand wobbles and you scramble to catch it before it smashes on the floor. Olivia quickly moves forward to help you, but you stand up before she has the chance and she’s left awkwardly standing just a bit too close to you. 

Sweet Pea coughs and coffee dribbles down his chin, making both of you look at him and he forces a smile until Olivia is called away. You and Sweet Pea stare at each other for a few seconds, your eyes wide and jaws slack and then you both start an incoherent flow of words as you try and figure out what the hell is going on. 

“I thought you said Fangs wasn’t seeing anyone!” You start and slap him over the head with your rag again. He ducks and catches it, but his face crinkles when he comes in to contact with the soggy fabric and he quickly drops it. 

“He said he wasn’t!” He argues. “I asked him the other day if he was seeing anyone and he said no. It’s not my fault he lied.” He adds and you huff at him, crossing your arms while staring at the door. 

From your peripheral, you watch him roll his eyes and sigh before mumbling a quiet sorry. 

“It’s fine.” You sigh. “It’s not your fault.” The two of you watch her make her wander around the restaurant and talking to a few of the other servers, the smile never leaving her lips and a scowl slowly makes its way onto your own. “If I were her I would start packing my bags already because we all know Fangs does not do commitment. It doesn’t matter if its two months or six years, one day he will just up and leave, turning your whole life upside down because he’s a selfish di-” 

“Okayyyy.” He says and grabs your arm pulling you over the counter. “Y/n, listen to me.” He grabs your cheeks. “You have got to pull yourself together. One. you are much hotter than her. Seriously, I only checked her out once and that was when she first got here. But I check you out literally every time you walk into a room.” 

“Than-” 

“Two. Now that it’s official that Fangs has moved on, it means that you can too and you don’t look like the bad person because he did it first. So Friday night, you’re going to get dressed up and then we’re gonna go to Greendale and go to that club, Brightstars and then you’re gonna get bu-” 

“You don’t need to finish that sentence.” You reply and he nods proudly before letting go. You drop back onto the floor and smooth your uniform out. 

It’s fine, you got this. You can be the bigger person and you can put any petty differences aside for an easy working environment. Fangs has already ruined enough of your life, he doesn’t need to ruin this to. 

Apparently he does though, because not two seconds after you’ve had that life-altering thought, does he walk through the doors of Pop’s. The bell rings to announce his presence and everyone turns to look at him. 

Sweet Pea buries his head in a menu, despite having already eaten. You frantically look around the place to try and find somewhere to hide, but instead you just watch as Olivia’s face lights up as she greets her boyfriend. The two of them kiss, his hands grip her waist and there is far too much tongue involved to be doing it in public. 

Before you can stop yourself, a disgusted expression has already settled on your face and when Olivia turns around to introduce you to him, you try your best to smile through it. 

“Do you guys know each other?” She asks while leading him over to the counter. Sweet Pea shuffles further away and grabs another menu to cover his face. You mumble a few curse words at him and vow than the next break you’re not just going to hit him with the rag, you’re going to choke him with it before you muster the politest smile you possibly can. 

“Yeah. We went to school together!” You say before Fangs can say anything. He looks at you surprised and you narrow your eyes at him before looking back at Olivia. “We all did. Didn’t we Pea.” You add and snatch the menu’s from him. 

He sits up straighter, forcing an awkward smile before nodding slowly. 

“Yeah, we-er. We used to hang out.” He adds and Olivia looks at Fangs surprised. 

“You never mentioned a Y/n and a-” 

“Sweet Pea.” He says and you grab the empty plate and glass from in front of him. 

“Wait, is it because they’re friends with that crazy ex you told me about?” She wonders and you freeze. You raise an eyebrow at him and he gulps. “Fangs used to date this girl and they were together for a really long time, but then he broke up with her because well, I guess he just wanted other things. She was crying and begging him to stay and it was a whole mess. Funny story we met when he was throwing away all her old furniture. I asked him what the smoke was about and he told me he was just burning some bad memories.” She laughs and the glass breaks under your grip. The noise causes you all to jump and suddenly it’s all too much. 

Tears spring to your eyes and you quickly dump the apron on the counter. 

“I’m gonna go clean this, can you cover for me Pea?” You ask and he stands, his face full of concern as he watches you disappear out the back. 

Olivia grabs a dustpan and brush and starts cleaning up while Fangs just stares at the floor. Guilt burrows further into his chest as he stares at the broken glass and his new girlfriend cleaning it up. 

“I didn’t mean to upset her.” She says. “Where they friends or something?” She asks and Sweet Pea shrugs. 

“Yeah, something like that.” He sends Fangs a glare. 

“I’ll go see if she’s okay.” He says suddenly and Sweet Pea’s glare only worsens. 

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” He asks. 

“Nope.” He takes a deep breath before following you through the kitchen and into the office. The door swings open and you sigh, too busy trying to pick glass from your hand to look up at it. 

“I’m fine Sweet Pea. Could you just pass me the first aid box?” 

“Here.” Fangs says and you quickly look up, your eyes widen at the dark haired boy standing in front of you. They soon darken once you snatch the box from him and place it on the desk. 

“What do you want Fangs?” 

“I’m sorry.” He kneels in front of you, forcing you to look at him. The already small office feels suddenly a lot smaller once you look into his eyes and suddenly you feel like you can’t breathe. 

“For what? For breaking my heart, betraying my trust or for telling your new girlfriend, which you found after just a month, that I’m somehow the bad guy in this story?”

“Ye-” 

“You know what Fangs.” You stand and slam the box on the table. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear about you or your new life or how sorry you are. I don’t give a fuck.” You shout and back him into a corner. 

His eyes drop to your lips and your breath hitches under his stare. Was he really thinking about kissing you after everything? But even worse, were you really thinking about letting him? His hands grip your hips, pulling you even closer to him and your lips ghost over his own. 

“Do you think about me when you kiss her?” You whisper in his ear and he nods slowly. “Do you think she can taste me when you kiss her?” You add and his eyes flutter closed. The grip on your hips tighten and he leans in, but the door swings open and he quickly jumps away from you. 

“Sorry to interrupt.” Olivia apologises awkwardly. “Are you guys okay?” 

“Just arguing.” You reply and force a smile. “We’re good now though aren’t we Fangs?” 

“Yeah.” He nods. “Just fine.” 

“Come on Olivia. Tell your boyfriend to get out because we have work to do.” You say and smile at the two of them. They share a look and a short kiss before Fangs disappears back through the kitchen. 

You follow closely and watch from the kitchen door as he looks back one last time before leaving. Olivia forces a tight lipped smile at you before busying herself with cleaning some of the booths down. 

“Sweet Pea?” You ask and he hums in reply. “You’re right...I am bitter.” 

✨taglist ✨

@amberritonicole

support my writing! if you want! 

#fangs #fangs imagine #fangs x reader #fangs x you #fangs x y/n #fangs fogarty #fangs fogarty imagine #fangs fogarty x reader #fangs fogarty x you #fangs fogarty x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine

[aitarose]

OUR LAST SUMMER (A.MIYA) —❥ pairing: miya atsumu x fem!reader

synopsis: one summer was all the time you had together—all the time you had to bask in the sun-kissed rays and sand-filled beaches, share soft butterfly kisses and feel the comfort of being wrapped in his arms—until his boat sailed off into the sea, forever. 

word count: 3.0k

genre: mamma mia inspired, summer fling, somewhat stuck together, angst, fluff, casual/formal writing, second person

warnings: commitment issues, mentions of suggestive content, minor cursing, heartbreak?

notes: this was an impulse blurb because i haven’t posted any actual fics in nearly a month so here you go lol asdfjl IT’S A LITTLE ROUGH BUT I HOPE IT’S LEGIBLE LMAO AND ITS SHORT AS HELL SORRY JALSD MY BRAIN D!ED

—❥ DIRECTORY

You remembered the first time you’d seen him.

He was a stranger, a man that you’d never once met before—standing smack-dab in the middle of your dock, the place you’d always come to clear your thoughts after hours upon hours of work, though you didn’t technically own it. It was just tradition, an accustom that you’d grown so used to that it seemed like everyone’s daily—well, everyone but his.

There were few people you didn’t know on the island, having been a member of the local family business of hotels and inns. Your little paradise, the chains of suites and saunas that you liked to think were a hidden wonder of the world—hidden to only you and the reoccurring tourists that would stay on your infamous Greek Elysium. 

The usual familiarity was scarce at the sight of his bright blonde hair and sun-kissed skin, light freckles peppered across the swells of his cheeks—no doubt caused by countless hours at sea as he stood beside a large sailboat. He appeared to be a free spirit, much different to all of the others that would find stay on the shores. 

It was a common getaway, an escape from the reality of life and the troubles that came with emotional attachments and labor. Every personality was alike, each one masking the pain of all that tied them down—wishing that they’d ever have to board that boat back to the mainland, and just stay in a world without worries and never-ending surf. 

But the way he was standing with his body language in reaction to the sea, made you think that perhaps he wasn’t like all of the other’s who came and went. That perhaps he was a free spirit entirely on his own, one that didn’t force the necessities of comfort and relaxation on his mind—it just came naturally.

“You lost?” Your voice called out, the sound ringing with the wind chimes against his sails—diverting his attention from the white peaked waves to your melodious sound. He gave you his full attention, immediately focusing on your approaching frame—a look of relief arising on his face. 

He reached behind his neck, scratching the roots of his hair whilst a sheepish smile gleamed in the light. “Thank god, you found me!” He chuckled, the browns in his eyes sparkled with golds and copper, complimenting his overall look perfectly—in all honesty, you didn’t think you’d ever seen such a handsome man. “I docked around a half-an-hour ago, just didn’t know where I was supposed to head next.”

“Would a beautiful girl like yourself happen to have the time to help a poor sailor out?”

Shaking your head, you grinned, scoffing slightly at the obvious flirtation, before walking towards him. Your feet moved in small steps, thoughts dancing around the idea of a summer fling—after all, it wouldn’t be the first time something like this had happened. You, an eccentric woman, one with the island, always seeming to attract men of all natures with not a care in the world.

Maybe he would be your new conquest, your newest mark in the endless journey of love that you never wanted to conclude. Another man who’s mood would turn from complete adoration to disgust when you’d reject his love and send him off to sea—never to be met again. Simply a memory you’d look back on when your past ran wild and smile in nostalgia. 

You plopped down on the end of the dock, head thrown back as your feet touched the water—a refreshing feeling taking over your entire body. The man watched in amusement at your obvious compatibility with the ocean currents and approached you as you patted the place beside you—an open seat reserved for him.

“So, sailor.” You mocked, swinging your jaw to face him with a sing-song tone. “Tell, me. What brings you to my island?”

He raised his eyebrows, creases appearing near his forehead with youthful wrinkles at their wits—not hiding how enamored he was at your playful tone. “Your island?” There was a matched mood in the both of your speech, potential feelings rising in the pits of your stomachs. “I’m sorry, gorgeous. Last I checked, you didn’t own all of Greece.” 

You scoffed, kicking your feet up to splash his ankles—cold sprays of salt water hitting the skin of your shins up to your thighs. “Well, last I checked lonely sailors didn’t talk back to pretty women—or are you just an enigma Mr...”

“Miya.” He replied, concluding the sentence that you hadn’t been able to finish with ease—identity revealed to the girl he’d already festered a crush on, despite it only having been a mere twenty minutes since you’d first begun to speak. “Miya Atsumu.”

‘Y/N L/N.” You held out a hand with a shit-eating grin as he gripped it firmly, shaking your palm enthusiastically whilst your eyes held his—a silent stare down in the midst, the morning sunrise changing to one of noon, reminding you of the ticking time. “And how long did you say you’ll be staying here?”

“Well, I’m here for my brother’s wedding.” Atsumu shrugged, nudging your shoulder with his and gazing out to the countless other sailboats in the bay. “Technically, I’m only meant to be here for a few weeks...”

“...but I’m sure I’ll find something here to keep me longer.”

And that he did. 

He’d managed to find a countless number of reasons to keep himself busy. Infinite excuses not to set his sail at sea—excuses that had nothing to do with the start of Osamu’s wedding festivities, or with the waning fear of his workplace calling him back to play, or even the worry of his heavy pockets running dry of cash.

Perhaps it had something to do with how his heart pounded whenever you were around. The artery nearly jumping out of his chest in the times you’d grab his hand and pull him along the stone-studded paths throughout the tropical trees,  giving him tours of your favorite spots—laying picnic blankets under the shade and sharing piña coladas with pink straws. 

Or the constant days at the beach. How you’d share an umbrella only for it to fly away in the wind—leaving the two of you out in the open rays of the sun, vulnerable to burns that Atsumu always managed to obtain. You later having to help him wash off in a cool shower—concern furrowing at your brows with every wince and whine he’d muster. 

Treating him as your own personal island dweller, you’d become attached at the hip. Neither one of you wanting to be without the other for longer than a day—knowing that your time was limited, but ignoring it all the same. The summer was one of new opportunities and experiences, things that you had already set your mind to—only now having his name next to those goals.

Your first impressions had been correct, he was undoubtedly different from all of the other flings you’d had in the past—and you’d come to realize this on the day he’d asked you to be his date to his brother’s wedding. The brother that had no idea you existed, whom you hadn’t ever planned on meeting was inevitably getting an unexpected guest.

That unexpected guest being you, of course, arriving with Atsumu on your arm and wearing a beautiful shade of baby blue. Osamu and his bride had welcomed you with open arms, no suspicions at all when they’d noticed the genuine look of happiness in the blonde’s eyes—a look that they hadn’t seen come out of him in a very very long time.

“Was it everything you dreamed it would be?” He whispered, lips pressed against your hair—arms holding you close as the gentle orchestrals echoed in the night night breeze. The shadows of candle lit jars and paper lanterns covering your face in defined shades of grey—making you look all the more gorgeous.

You sighed into his chest, taking in his sweet scent, that of fresh oranges and salt—the smell of the ocean never truly washing away from his aura. “I loved it, actually.” An earnest tone spoke out from your mouth, sincere admissions flowing like waves, reaching his ears and giving him little dreams of the future—your future.

“It was one of the most beautiful ceremonies we’ve hosted, and I truly mean that.” Your voice was soft, quiet as to not disturb the calm mood in the moonlight—the stars shining down on every pair on the dance floor, even the young children blowing kisses in each other’s direction, not knowing the true feelings of love, yet wishing for them in their hearts. 

Atsumu took a step back, holding your hand in his and spinning you beneath the stringed bulbs—smiling warmly as you let out an uncontrollable giggle—complaining how he was making you dizzy with glee. He didn’t think he’d ever felt so utterly full of admiration for a single person in the entirety of his life.

With a smirk at the corners of his cheeks he pulled you in, twirling you back around and into the safety of his tanned arms—the physical contact was nothing new to you, yet there was something in the way his palms held yours that made you feel like there were ulterior motives to his antics. 

“Steady there, sailor.” You whispered, slightly out of breath—not only from the tireless dancing you’d endured all evening, but from the minimized distance between your bodies. His lips were a mere centimeters away from yours, so close and also so far. “Wouldn’t want you doing something you might regret.”

He shook his head, leaning in to commit to the thing he wanted most in the world—his fingers reaching up to guide your chin to his, the calloused skin of his thumbs tickling your sensitive nerves and setting free all of the festering butterflies in your chest. 

“Trust me, gorgeous, when I say that I don’t have regrets.”

His words were quickly muffled as you pressed your lips against his, smothering any quips that could possibly arise and drowning them in an ocean of pure desire and infatuation. It felt like you were on ecstasy, the uncontrollable yearning for his intimacy finally being yours to have and to hold—all coming together in one innocent kiss in the middle of an almost empty wedding reception. 

Your palms held his jawline, pulling him as close as possible whilst doing your best to convey your display of passion as small and intimate—not wanting to steal the celebrations of the day from the bride and groom—who’d in all honesty, disappeared themselves hours before, no one having seen them since then.

A quiet gasp rose from your throat as he bit your bottom lip, wanting more even though he knew that it wasn’t the time you could grant his wish—anticipation for the night to come, when you’d leave the party hand-in-hand, rushing from the back of his brain to the frontal lobe as he pulled away.

“’Tsumu.” You breathed out, eyes locked on his with giddiness underlying the tiredness in your voice. His expression matched yours, one of completion and success—patting himself on the back in imagination with the knowledge that he’d won your attention. “What was that?”

He stepped aside, still holding your hand in his, leading you off of the stone platform and into the gallery of cloth-lined tables with scattered guests—drunk in happiness and alcohol, blind to any real-world worries. The moment felt like a fever dream, an event that only occurred in film and television—nothing that you’d ever expected to experience yourself.

But with Atsumu, anything seemed to be possible. The slim probabilities becoming a zero percent error whenever he set his mind to a goal, bringing you along with him every step of the way. His calls out to you raspy from ahead, scratchy from the amount of hollering and applause he’d performed for his twin during speeches and vows.

“That,” he began, glancing back at you as you ran together towards his little villa, “that was only the beginning of the rest of our endless summer.”

And he was right, it certainly was the beginning of something. Something special and real—something that you’d never once felt in your life, right in your arms, right in front of you. He was your perfect match, you were tired of denying it—but there was one thing that the two of you had forgotten in the blissful montage of stolen kisses and sleepless nights.

Every beginning has an end. 

All stories have a final chapter, one that no reader wanted to page through—but couldn’t resist knowing the final outcome of their two favorite characters, what could possibly happen to their relationship, their future, their unspoken and unequivocal love for one another that had manifested on the ink blotched pages. 

Some had happy endings, epilogues in which the main love interests proceeded to get married, have a few kids that’d run around their fenced backyard with the sprinkler system running on overdrive. That was the dream, the dream that seemed so idealistic to most, the ideal life to live—to grow old holding hands against the oak wood of your rocking chairs as the sun set over the horizon. 

But that wasn’t your ideal life, and neither was it Atsumu’s. 

So, your story wasn’t one of those lucky fairy tales that had a happily ever after. It wasn’t a bedtime story that you’d read to your grandchildren or younger relatives, nor was it a time you’d try to forget as it ended right where it had initially begun—on the public docks of your inn house, in front of his weary sailboat.

The only differences being the setting sun rather than the rising dawn and the twinkling stars appearing in the dark sky in contrast to their disappearance in relation to the morning clouds. Perhaps it was the universe telling you that it was all coming to an end, shooting off into the darkness with the explosions of nebulas and constellations. 

“So, this is it.” Atsumu spoke aloud, possibly to you or the emptiness of the sea. The usual warmth in his tone sounding robotic and unkept, unfamiliar to your heart, unfamiliar from the man you’d come to hold such strong feelings for in a mere three months. “This is our last night, our last minutes.”

He turned to face you, hands holding the limp ropes whilst pulling them tight and wrapping them in their holsters, billowing the sails in the strong night breezes—there was said to be a storm brewing, and it was ever so timely to have happened the same night a hurricane was forming in your blackened and broken heart. 

You’d never seen such a sorrowful expression on his face, used to the typical dumbstruck happiness and easygoing nature that was void and lost, that absence setting in the reality of your relationship’s oblivion. He let go of his secured ties, elbows leaning against the railing and towards you as you stood at the edge of the doc. 

“It doesn’t have to end here, you know.” He suggested, his voice shaky and unsure—not knowing what your response would be—not knowing that you loved him, too. “You could come with me, see a world that isn’t an isolated island—we could travel together, see all the other wonders—we could be happy, forever.”

Your breath hitched, chest airtight, all of the oxygen in your lungs at max capacity—catching in your lungs with no chance of getting out. His words had somehow managed to itch the hidden and sensitive regions of your heart—the ones that had always been guarded from others, the places that he’d been able to weasel his way into. 

At the look on your face, he already knew your answer. An unspoken rejection standing stale in the humid air between you, the still distance growing further and further despite your motionless stances. Two broken hearts longing for one another with no resolution to be met. 

He bit his lip, holding back tears in the nightly shadows and nodding his head—believing that he’d been right all along. That his presumptions about you had actually been correct, that he hadn’t been different, that he hadn’t been your person amidst the countless other personalities you’d fallen for over the summers—that he’d simply been another paradisiac fling that you’d thrown away. 

But he’d never been so wrong. 

You did love him, you loved him with your entire soul—your entire existence. There was no dream you wanted more than to be with him forever, to spend every single moment in his company of laughter and contagious smiles. To pepper him in kisses and take morning dips in the ocean as the sun rose over the horizon. 

He was your soulmate, the other half that you never thought you would find—an egocentric and boastful man unlike any other you’d met before. Atsumu was your salvation, but with the fear of commitment and settled life at the back of your brain, you had no choice but to watch as his love faded into remorse. As his undying love was pulled beneath your currents of self-doubt. 

“Thank you.” He spoke, words dull yet also meaningful—full of every last confessional emotion he had to make, full of all the lost ‘I love you’s’ and goodnight wishes in the past seventy-two days of being in each other’s arms. “Thank you for letting me love you.”

And with those words, your heart sailed into the vast horizon—through the swift currents and past the submerged rocks, peaking in the rising and falling black waves. The bright white sail of his stern shading into grey as he became nothing but a speck in the night—lost to the endless sea and unknown future, a future without you. 

A future that you’d never know anything of, communication gone, forgotten between you and stripped away by the receding tides. The tides that had come just as fast as they’d gone—a physical representation of the whirlwind love story that you’d lived during the most memorable summer of your life. As you’d never be able to forget him. 

You’d never be able to forget the first man you’d ever loved. 

taglist of bestie boos <3:

@bokoutoebutmain​ @boba-duckie​ @ryuomen​ @sexy-bee-juice​ @nekomabvc​ @cambodianprincess6

aitarose.tumblr 2021. do not copy, claim, or mimick my writing, works, themes, copy and paste my words, or headers and tags as your own. do not use my blog as a template for your own, or base your theme on mine.

#dont mind me with this quick write #its scattered but hey AT LEAST I POSTED FOR ONCE #hqradiostation #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu oneshot #atsumu oneshots #atsumu fic #atsumu fics #atsumu fluff #atsumu angst #atsumu hcs #atsumu headcanons #atsumu headcanon #atsumu x you #atsumu x y/n #haikyuu #haikyu #hq #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader

[prince-of-scenarios]

Hiiii it's me again, I hope you don't mind ma asking twice... but I simply L O V E D 💕✨ your headcanons on their married life, so if you don't mind I'd like to request:

T H E I R. W E D D I N G. 🌼❤️

Like, the type of wedding, the decoration, who gives the speech, who cries the most between the two... That sort of thing XD

For Atobe, Sanada, Tezuka and Yukimura, please 😍

Atobe

Surprisingly modest, but also over the top simultaneously because he’s Atobe. But his s/o forbade him from going too overboard because it would be a pain for the staff to clean. Atobe made them promise that they can’t complain for what he has planned for their honeymoon because if he can’t go all out for the wedding then he’ll find other ways to make it up. 

Atobe doesn’t cry. He prides himself on handling his emotions well, but damn, if he didn’t get a little misty-eyed watching his s/o walk down the aisle and then hearing them say their vows. It takes him by surprise how emotional he gets, probably, and even though a single tear isn’t shed from him, he’s quieter than usual. A lot of soft touches from him on this day. 

Lots of elegant decorations, silk and white ribbons and pale gold and white and clear balloons. A literal red carpet. The best food anyone has ever eaten and of course the festivities go on for hours while people dance and sing and cry and eat and drink their fill. Slow songs, fast songs, songs that make people sing together. 

Obviously he gives the speech, and it’s so elegant and heartfelt his s/o probably begins crying halfway through. Atobe mostly lets other people talk though, because he wants the celebration to be about him and his s/o, not about him talking. 

Sanada

Has a modest wedding (god forbid he try to emulate anything that might be Atobe’s taste...) Neutral colors, pale colors, soft colors. Soothing music, a spread of food that evokes nostalgia and the future all at once because he and his s/o reminisce about their time before getting married as well as anticipate their future together. 

Sanada refuses to cry, but watching his s/o walk down the aisle makes his vision blurry and he can’t stop staring at them the entire night. While all of the planning of this wedding made him the tensest he’s ever been, the actual event makes him so soft and loving. Careful touches and stroking his s/o’s knuckles with his thumb. 

Voice wavers once through his vows, and he kisses his s/o like it’s their last kiss on earth. Impresses and disgusts a good portion of his old tennis team, but they still cheer and throw confetti and congratulate him because he looks so happy. 

Likely set outdoors during a perfect summer day. The kind of day that’s in the transition of spring and summer, clear skies and birds and trees blossoming flowers with petals that rain down on the guests when a breeze drifts through. 

Tezuka

A wedding full of friends and family, even acquaintances that he might not have thought to invite initially because he wants to share his happiness with other people. 

Smiles so much and unabashedly because his s/o looks so good and his heart has never felt lighter. Also sheds a few tears when he thinks no one is looking because he’s not made of stone even though he’s stone-faced a lot, and dances freely with his s/o. A lot of his emotion probably comes out unintentionally, but he doesn’t really feel the need to hide it because he sees how outwardly happy his s/o is. 

Hand kisses, cheek kisses, forehead kisses. Always holding his s/o’s hand when he can because he doesn’t want to be apart from them for even a second, even if he denies being super clingy. Surprisingly fastidious about taking photos because he wants to remember this night. 

The wedding goes on for the near perfect amount of time, because he wants to lay with his s/o in their bed after everything’s said and done and just be with them. Looks forward to the days after the wedding too, organizing pictures, putting aside mementos, rewatching the video of their wedding, and even listening to his friend’s commentary. 

Yukimura

A reasonably sized wedding with lots of close friends and family. He doesn’t want to put on a show for the sake of putting on a show, so the reception and the wedding will be sweet and sincere. Many colorful flower arrangements. 

Surprisingly large cake, but only because he knows Marui will have more than one or two or even three pieces. The food is all familiar and warm, aims for comfort over fancy because he doesn’t need much to be happy. Isn’t super big on alcohol but will pop a bottle of champagne or two for tradition’s sake. Gives the speech and doesn’t take up people’s time with filler. Concise and sincere and heartfelt. 

A good amount of decorations, also likely outdoors. Decorations that invite people to smile and let loose, soft colors and custom balloons and hanging lights that illuminate the venue with a perfect warm glow. Likely hires a live band and requests songs that are special to him and his s/o. 

Accepts any and all photos, the more candid, the better. To him, the best pictures aren’t the ones that are staged, but the ones where people don’t realize they’re being captured; the raw emotion on people’s faces and how they naturally look when surrounded by friends and family. 

#this killed me to write bc its so soft and cute #wtf............... #im so emo #also sanada and tezuka would defs have traditional weddings #but im not sure how much those can be customized #??? #so #prince of tennis #prince of tennis scenarios #prince of tennis x reader #tenipuri x reader #atobe keigo #sanada genichirou #tezuka kunimitsu #yukimura seiichi

[sapphire374]

Soy Sol: Chapter 10 (Hopeful Curiosity)

Wattpad Link

Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Ch.4 / Ch.5 / Ch.6 / Ch.7 / Ch.8 / Ch.9 / Ch.11 / Ch.12 / Ch.13 / Ch.14 / Ch.15 / Ch.16 / Ch.17

The gang is huddled around each other at the Jam and Roller rink. Ámbar proceeds to glance over her clipboard that carries the original sign-up sheet. “So, Ámbar, do we have enough members to make up a team for the competition.” Ámbar quickly looks Luna in the eyes and decides to call out the list of names. “The official Jam and Roller team members are Luna, Simon, Matteo, Gaston, Ramiro, Jim, Delfi, Pedro and Jazmin.” Everyone starts counting with their fingers but before anyone gets the chance to start counting, Gaston and Nina both yell out “that’s nine members, we’re missing one.” Luna rollers towards Ámbar. “Ámbar you’re not on the list. Are you going to join us? Please, pretty please join us. Whether you would like to admit it or not, you’re one of the best roller skaters out there and we need you.”

Ámbar takes a big gulp of air, processing everything that’s going on. Luna’s pout with her watery eyes has made Ámbar reconsider her decision. Before she always wanted the worst for Luna, but the past few years has made them become inseparable. She now views Luna as her younger sister plus being the manager of the gang’s favorite place has made her feel as everyone’s bigger sister, being the mature one. Ambar gives in. “Fine, I’ll do it. Especially since you guys need me so much. You guys aren’t wrong though, I am the best,” Ámbar jokes. The whole gang cheers, everyone jumps up and down and excitement enters the room.

Everyone is huddled as they all set their hands out and chant, “ready! One, two, three Jam and Roller!” Juliana enters through the chaos of excitement. “Opa opa! Seems like the group has never separated and feels closer than ever.” The gang all turn around facing her, their faces show signs of shock. No one was expecting this except one certain person in the room. “Juliana! You’re back! Wait how did you know we got the team back together for a competition?” Simón asks. “A little birdy called me and said that a certain team needed my help so I came as quick as I can.” The whole gang starts whispering, wondering who was it that reached out to her. Luna gives Ámbar and Simón a little smirk.

“So have you guys chosen which song you all are going to skate to?” Juliana questions. “Nope,” Ámbar answers. That’s when the idea hits Simón. “I have an idea! Maybe not only the team gets back together for this competition, but also the band? What do you guys say, Nico, Pedro?” Simón suggests. Nico and Pedro look at each other in disbelief and with a loss of words. “Uhh yes of course! You have no idea how long I’ve missed playing on the drums,” Pedro states. “And you guys have no idea how long I’ve missed collaborating the three of us together again,” Nico chimes in. “I guess that settles it. The band is back!!” Simón announces. The room is filled with so many emotions as everyone is so excited about what’s to come next. True nostalgia and memories really do start coming back to them since working together and competing to save their beloved place truly brings them back to old times. Just like how Matteo and Luna wouldn’t stop stealing glances at each other through the midst of it all.

This competition will be fierce including what’s called two stages. The first stage is the basic entry in which they record a video of their performance, the second stage is where they have the official competition. They first though have to make it through the first stage. For the next few days, Juliana tries to prepare them with some exercises since it has been years some of them roller skated. Then they gradually learned again how to do some simple routines as pairs then as groups. Before the gang knew it, in a week they have mastered all the skills and are ready to practice the actual choreography for the performance. Luna and Matteo still haven’t talked much though, yet they’re constant staring proves to show that they still miss and love each other.

Monday Evening at the Jam and Roller (after about a week and a half)

Juliana tells the gang that they can rest, and training has just finished. The group has finally mastered the double turns alignment but are struggling with air spins. Matteo heads over to Luna like old times, while she’s drinking water near the rails. “What’s the matter Chica Delivery? Has all the training finally tired you out?” Matteo flirtatiously says. Luna tries to hide her blushed cheeks and smirks at his comment. “Chico fresa you know that can never happen. My internal adrenaline is endless.” Luna and Matteo begin to laugh. Luna stops once she remembers why she was trying to avoid him for the longest. “Matteo don’t think I forgot everything that has happened.” She begins to stare at the floor, holding back a tear. “I’ve already apologized, what more do you want?” Matteo begs.

“You know that’s not the issue. I just feel like I can’t trust you anymore. You promised me you wouldn’t lie to me anymore and that’s exactly what you did. I don’t want our relationship to be built out of lies. I’d rather stay single instead of having someone stab me in the back unaware.” Matteo widely opens his eyes, it feels like someone has sucker punched him in the gut. For a long time, Matteo has tried to prove to Luna he has changed and does truly care about her, how can one little lie bring all the pain back. “Luna, you know I would never want to break your heart or ‘stab you in the back.’ I just lied about this because I knew you would get jealous of me hanging out with Viviana.” Luna gasps in astonishment. “Jealous! Now that’s a joke right there. For me to be jealous of her, that would mean I would want to be like her or want something she has but that’s not the case at all. I’m happy with the life I live and don’t want to change it. I just don’t like how close she’s been with you. You know I’m okay with you having female friends, but not when one tries to kiss you when I’m not around and constantly wrapping her arms around you. Even the news outlets think you broke up with me and dating her because of how much ‘quality time’ you guys spend together.”

Matteo responds with, “You know how much I miss it when you call me Chico Fresa and miss these fun bantering moments. I would never fall for her because you’re my one true love. You may not be jealous of her but you’re jealous of her getting to spend time with me. Is that it? You want to hang out more with me? How do I make it up to you?” Luna shakes her head and says, “You just don’t get it and it’s okay. I don’t feel like arguing today.” Luna rollers away and Matteo covers his face as he lays his elbows on the silver polished rails. Gastón heads to him and pats his shoulder. “She still hasn’t forgiven you?” Matteo shakes his head in response. His phone begins to ring in the pocket of his jeans. He lifts himself up and pulls it out. “Hello…. yes……. Already in a week? ..... ah I see, okay that seems appropriate I guess…...tomorrow okay, I’ll see you then.” Matteo hangs up and places his phone in his pocket again. “Who was that?” Gastón questions. “It’s my manager. They’re planning to release my music video with Viviana at the end of this week. Usually, we don’t release music videos this early but apparently she demanded for it since it would look good and perfect for this summer. Well to prepare for the release, they want me to perform with her in a live concert.” Matteo’s expression shows his stress and frustration. “But what about the Jam and Roller training?” Gastón asks him. “I’ll try to practice for the concert before the Jam and Roller training starts every day and the concert is on Saturday so that day I guess I’ll just miss training for that one day. I have no other choice.”

Gastón keeps thinking and doesn’t say a word till an amazing idea slips in his head. “I just got it! I just thought of the perfect plan that’ll get Luna to forgive you and get back together with her.” Matteo starts smiling as Gastón whispers the plan into his left ear. “Hermano, you’re a genius.”

The Benson Mansion

Ámbar doesn’t stop glaring at the letter in front of her. It was the original copy that was locked up in Sharon’s vault. This was what her biological mom wrote to her before she gave her away, it includes her phone number. She wants to call that number, desperately wants to but what if this number doesn’t work anymore? Or what if it does? She feels so confused. The closer the wedding gets, the scarier it feels for her. She wants to invite her biological mom and maybe even Sharon, she’s just undecided. It’s more than just complicated for her.

She sucks up every bit of courage left in her, grabs her phone and types in the numbers smeared at the bottom of the letter. It’s…. ringing. The longer she has to wait, the faster her heart beats. The phone stops ringing. “Hello,” the person on the other end answers. Ámbar’s voice begins to crack, “Uh… yes is this Sylvana Ariel?” Ámbar takes a big gulp of air. The person on the other end responds, “yes this is she. Who do I have the pleasure speaking to?” When Ambar hears that it’s her, she decides to move forward with the plan of meeting her. Maybe it was destiny for her to still have this phone number for so many years? “Yes, this is Ámbar, Ámbar Smith. We need to talk. Are you available today?” Ámbar takes control of the situation showing no signs of hesitation, even though her heart says otherwise. “Oh Ámbar? Yes, I’m available today.” Ámbar takes one good look at the letter and answers back, “Good. Meet me at Pachani’s restaurant today at 7 p.m.” The lady answers with an okay before Ámbar hangs up the phone.

She didn’t know this day would come so soon. Getting to meet her birth mother. What should she say? What should she do? Maybe this would help her understand her whole story and discover more who she really is before she gets married. Simón walks into the living room. “There you are. I thought you would be at the Jam and Roller; you never miss an afternoon of work?” Ámbar quickly folds the letter and slips it into her purse. “Oh yeah I just came home to… find another bridal magazine. I thought I left one of my favorite ones here in the living room.” Simón scrunches up his face, “here? In the living room of the Benson Mansion? But you always look at them at our apartment?” Ámbar clasps her purse and places the strap around her arm. “Oh well I sometimes look at them here whenever I visit the Valentes and have a cup of coffee, by mistake one of these days I left my bridal magazine.” Simón nods showing how he understands. “So how are bridal things going?”

“Pretty smooth. Luna and Nina agreed to go order the sets of flowers and decorations at the boutique right across town,” Ámbar states. “Oh, that’s nice. Luna and Nina were so kind to offer their help. What would we do without them?”

“Yes, I agree. We’re very lucky to have them indeed. Um there is one thing I forgot to tell you. At around 7 p.m I won’t be at home yet, I have a meeting with some other law school students for this project we have going on, so I won’t be home.”

Simón’s smile fades away. “Aww I’ll miss you, but I do wish you good luck on the project. I know you’ll do great on it.” Ámbar smiles from thinking how lucky she is to have a caring, understanding partner by her side. They hug each other and head out of the mansion.

*Gif not made by me. Owner of gif's name is at the bottom right hand corner :) *

Lacey’s Boutique

Luna and Nina wait at the front desk holding a slip of paper that carries a list of things they need to purchase for Ámbar’s wedding. “He said that?” Nina whispers. “Yep, I can’t believe he called me jealous when he was the one who lied and created this whole mess in the first place. When we got back together, we agreed on no secrets and to always communicate. That’s the only way a relationship can go well, just look at Ámbar and Simón?”

“I absolutely agree. I felt awful when Gaston spied on me that day, so I understand what you mean. Luckily everything is fixed now,” Nina cheers. “I’m happy for you Nina, sadly in between Matteo and I is a person who doesn’t stop flirting and hanging out with him. Plus, it’s so obvious too, even Simón thought he was dating Viviana and broke up with me. I can’t believe Matteo doesn’t believe me and instead calls me jealous. After everything we’ve been through.” The cashier heads to the counter and Luna and Nina’s conversation ends. “So, is this the list for everything?” Luna nods in approval. “Okay great, everything will be prepared in time and the delivery will be sent to the place on the date of the card.” Luna picks up the card and puts it away in her tiny backpack.

“Thank you,” she begins to head out before the cashier stops her. “Wait, I have something to give you.” He pulls out another card from his pocket. “Here’s my phone number, maybe we can have a cup of coffee together someday if you’d like?” Luna is speechless and turns to Nina for a choice of words. Nina shrugs and seems to be just as confused as her. “Um... well the thing is I’m in a relationship… well right at this moment I’m not sure…. Honestly I don’t know it’s complicated me and my boyfriend well after what he did, I don’t think he’s still my boyfriend but I don’t know…” Luna stops talking when the cashier extremely perplexed expression shows vividly. “Um… well once you get all that resorted and decide not to be with this… complicated person feel free to give me a call.” He leaves and heads to the back of the store. “Luna, I’m shocked he’s still into you after everything you blurted out. I think you even fried his brain.” Nina and Luna giggle their way out.

Jim and Yam’s Apartment

Ramiro adjusts the collar of his nicely firm long sleeve button up shirt. He’s holding a bouquet of sunflowers and is trying to collect the right words to say to Yam. He knocks on the door and waits for a response. “I’m coming,” she says. For Ramiro, hearing Yam’s voice is like a breath of fresh air.

She opens the door and is surprised to see Ramiro’s well put together fit. “Before you say anything I want to do this right. Yam, I know our relationship has been like an ongoing rollercoaster, we’ve been through the ups and the downs but the one thing that has always stayed constant is my love for you. After everything that has happened, I always knew I love you and my path ends up meeting yours. Yam would you like to go on a date with me?” Yam covers her mouth in amusement. She’s appalled from the beautiful surprise he’s presented her, and with a speech too. Usually, Ramiro is too cool for all of this but seeing what he has done has proven enough to Yam that he’s committed. “Ramiro of course, I would love to. In fact, I was always thinking what took you so long?” Yam begins to chuckle. “I guess fear from this not working out, but you can’t always live in fear for the rest of your life.”

Yam jumps into Ramiro’s arms and kisses him on the cheek.

#soy luna #soy sol #soy sol universe #soy luna fanfic #lutteo #simbar #soy luna fanfiction #disney soy luna #sl fanfic #sl fanfiction #soy luna wattpad #sl wattpad #gastina #pelfi #yamiro #jico #karol sevilla #Valentina zenere #Soy Luna one shot #Soy Luna one shots

[natromanxoff]

Quotidiano Nazionale - April 5, 2005

Credits to Silvia C. and Queencuttings.com

Translation by Fabiola M.:

ONE MINUTE’S SILENCE FOR THE POPE JOHN PAUL II

The silence and then, Queen’s Rock.

Rome: “Let good sense prevail “ the Head of Civil Defence Mr. Bertolaso, appointed extraordinary officer for Pope funeral, said yesterday afternoon, asking for postponement of show that Queen made one’s debut last evening in Rome. But businnes prevailed. The good sense has been showed by nine thousand fans in Palalottomatica when, one hour before the show beginning, sang in chorus “ John Paul, John Paul” doing follow that extempore homage by five minutes of applauses. It was a rising tide from the first lines, in which were “Queens” with crowd and English flag on their shoulders, to the second ring in ear-splitting growing.

“This evening we get two mourning in our heart, for the Pope and for Freddie Mercury” somebody said, without the fear to place the sacred and the profane side by side. Sure would be right to delay. But for when? Seeing that band is happened until July? So it would be a double pain stay at home with a 50 euro ticket on own pockets. One shooting pain that concert’s organizing Mr. Claudio Trotta got to suture reading a press release when the curtain was yet closed. It said: “Pope love the music and we don’t think that Queen’s music is a trouble.

Then, respecting and keeping close to Catholic World in this sad moment for Pope death, we haven’t release no notice before the concert then ask you for one minute’s silence before the beginning." Then Brian May, Roger Taylor and Paul Rodgers turn come on the stage to renew the broken thread in the 1986 and during the years resumed about only for occasional benefits as the big concerts 46664 for Mandela Found and Pavarotti and Friends. Absorbed on a huge stage, dominated by a very great background screen and four immense movable stage floodlights,

Queen showed his more famous face by one white-hot “Tie your mother down”, introducing with very hissing “Lose yourself” by Enimen and By Rodgers’s solo song “Reachin’out”, approaching in roundabout way with “I want to break free”, “Fat Bottomed girls”, Crazy little thing called love”, without leave out philosopher’s stone of Rodgers’s career like “Can’t get enough of your love” and “Seagull” by Bad Company and “A Little bit of Love” by Free.

On the scene, between the main stage and another hide footboard among the audience, the second guitarist Jamie Moses, the keyboard player Spike Edney and the ex bass player of Blue Oyster Cult Band Danny Miranda , co-opted in place of John Deacon who left once for all the band in 1992 after “Freddie Mercury Tribute” in Wembley Stadium.

The new show, put on just like at that time in Bry Studios in London, where was filmed “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”, tries to run away by blues streak from the very heavy heir of Freddie Mercury, but the strength of the songs like “ Hammer to fall” sung by Rodgers and May with two voices, “ These are the days of our lives” and “ Radio Ga-Ga , is too much for admit it a true emancipation cooping up into nostalgia filled by regret. Among the encores “ We are the Champions”.

This evening the show is having a run in Milano, the 7th in Florence and 8tH in Pesaro. For latter date there are 1000 tickets yet available.

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #brian may #paul rodgers #queen scans #queencuttings.com #quotidiano nazionale april 2005

[blossom-hwa]

A Song Written Easily - Eric

Uh so here’s the midnight impulse drabble that made Eric wreck my bias list?? When I woke up I actually thought this was a fever dream until I opened my notes hh anyway, this is set in the same universe as Bloom, Bloom, Pow!, but the events of bbp are still a couple years into the future :)

In other news, happy birthday to Eric, the best puppy boy in the world whom I love with my whole heart <3 I have a chem final sigh but I hope everyone else is having a lovely day, including the birthday boy! 

I highly recommend listening to the song that inspired this all while reading! Oneus’s “A Song Written Easily” is so beautiful :)

Pairing: Eric x gender neutral!reader

Genre: slight angst

Triggers: none

Word Count: 1.2k

Words flow so easily when Eric thinks of you.

TBZ Masterlist | Interwoven

With all the times Eric's fallen in love, he'd think that breaking up would be a bit easier by now. Truthfully, sometimes, it is, when there have only been two or three dates before deciding things won’t work out, when the feelings only run shallow.

But the months he spent with you, smiling with locked fingers, laughing between kisses… they were something lovely. Something deeper. Something so much more.

Which is why, Eric supposes, it hurts so much now that you've gone.

The memory of your tears is still fresh in his mind as he walks the silent trail in the park, a worn notebook and pen clutched in his hand. The sobs you tried to hide play in his ears over and over again, the sobs that choked your throat as you explained that your feelings were gone, that you just didn't feel the same way for Eric that you had once felt so deeply before. That you didn't want to let go and hurt him like this, that you wanted to keep loving him the way you had for so many months, but that you couldn't. You just couldn't.

And try as he might, he can’t forget the tears that streamed down his face at your confession, the way he clutched your hands between his and asked if there was anything he could do, anything he could say, anything he could change to make you love him just once more. He can’t erase the memory of your lovely eyes squeezed shut as you shook your head, whispering no, there’s nothing, I’m sorry. Eric, I’m so sorry.

He can't smile, even as he sits down in the clearing he found when he was young, the clearing he always comes to when his heart feels heavy. Lips pressed into a thin line, he opens the notebook to the next blank page. He never thought he’d have to write a letter to you, but, well. The future is rarely what Eric actually imagines it to be.

Dear Y/N...

Reflections race through his mind as he writes of lovely memories, good and bad, letting the words flow across the paper. The pen fills one page, then two, then three, consolidating six months of sunlit smiles and moonlit arguments and starlit laughs into words of smooth, black ink. He writes of six months of sweet dreams, of lessons learned, of reasons he loved.

And reasons he still loves.

The sun has risen by the time he's ready to close this letter, this letter that will never be sent, this letter that will stay in this notebook forever with the remains of every other love, requited or not, that he has experienced during his short time on earth. By contrast with those other remnants, though, yours is much longer, almost five times the length of the next longest letter he remembers writing.

Isn't that the beauty of it, though? a voice, unbidden, speaks in his mind. Isn't there a beauty in how deeply you loved in so short a time, a beauty in the joy you brought to his life, even if it ended in heartbreak?

Because you weren't a bad person, Eric thinks. Far from it, really. Feelings can fade, he knows, and he can't blame you for it. It just means that as much as he thought you were perfect for him, ultimately, he wasn't perfect for you.

So maybe you weren't perfect for him, either.

Eric taps his pen against the notebook, eyes blankly gazing ahead as he ponders these thoughts. How best can he close this letter? he wonders. How best can he finish off this recollection of a love deeper than any he's ever experienced, a love that still hurts, even though you tried to heal it as best you could before you left?

You loved him, he knows. He knows this as surely as he knows he loved – still loves – you. And there was beauty in that, in the genuine care you held for him, a care that you still hold. Just not in the same way.

So what does he feel for you? Eric tries to think, pen still tapping against the pages. There's love, of course, but what are the emotions entangled in this love? What are the feelings meshed together that make the adoration he holds for you so different, so unique?

His pen stops in mid-air.

Gratitude.

He feels thankful for you, thankful for the love you gave him, thankful for the memories you made with him. He feels thankful for every time you kissed him, every time you interlaced your fingers with his, every time you laughed and pressed your lips to his cheek and murmured a soft "I love you."

The length of this relationship hurt him, Eric knows. You loved each other for a beautiful six months – well, maybe somewhat less in your case – and it's the fact that you loved each other for so much longer than any other relationship he’s had that makes the pain so intense. But, well, if these feelings lasted a bit longer, if your kisses were a little sweeter, if you loved each other a little deeper, doesn't that just mean this love is something to be cherished even more? That even though it breaks his heart to let you go, he should keep these memories forever?

Eric's lips begin to curl slightly – not quite into a smile, not just yet, but something close – with nostalgia, not the sad sort but the wistful sort, longing for something between a future that will never happen and the sweetness of the past. He doesn't need to think as his pen sweeps across the bottom of the last page, awkward handwriting tracing the letters of five last words.

He reads them once, reads them twice, lips moving silently over and over as the words burn into his mind, stamping themselves on every image of you that remains, the bad, the good, the chaotic, the peaceful, the messy, the lovely. Five words, five simple words, five words that his heart aches to say, even if it can't say them directly to you.

Thank you for the memories.

Surrounded by greenery dotted with tiny flowers, Eric looks up at a clear blue sky. The air is fresh, the breeze cool, the sun warm. It's the type of day where he’d tell a dumb joke to make you smile and then your laughs would intermingle in the air as he twirled you around on the grass.

It hurts a little, still, but the five words written on the page in his hand have soothed the pain, infused smooth black ink with the heartache that's plagued him since you left. His eyes don’t dim this time at the memory of your laughter. Tears don't fall at the recollection of your love.

For the first time since you left, Eric gazes up at a blue sky with a heart free of pain.

He smiles.

#starryktown #tbznetwork #the boyz #tbz #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #the boyz oneshots #the boyz imagines #the boyz eric #tbz eric #eric sohn #the boyz eric scenarios #tbz eric scenarios #eric scenarios #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #the boyz eric x reader #eric sohn x reader #eric #slight angst #high school!au #interwoven #a song written easily #scriptura-delirus

[lu-undy]

New Sniper/Spy long story!

Aaaand I am back with a new Sniper/Spy story!

It’s called “Un-alone” and can be found here!

Hope you enjoy! :D

"I need a minute, if that is possible." The French accent would have sounded pleasant and exotic if not for the circumstances.

"Of course. If you need a drink, help yourself. I will be back to give you more details."

The man in the suit nodded and the notary left the room. He waited for the door to click shut before sighing and loosening his tie. He looked around him, the wooden and serious walls seemed to close on him, as the walls of his skull pressed painfully on his brain. He lowered his head and held his hair in his hands.

After a sigh, he slid on the sofa to the table at the corner of the room. He pushed the flower vase aside and looked at the tray with bottles and glasses. Water? Wine? Non, he needed something stronger. That whiskey would do. The glass cap yielded with a pop and he poured some in the glass. He didn't add any of the ice cubes. Non, he felt cold enough. 

The bitter whiskey burnt the back of his throat down to his knotted stomach. The Frenchman held his head low. What should he do? Cry? Punch? Destroy? 

Not yet. The notary gave a short knock before entering the room again. His eyebrows jumped when he realised that he had left a proper and prim man, to come back to what he could tell was a man barely holding himself back, to protect his dignity. He was used to being the bearer of bad news, he was used to seeing people cry, shout, get in all sorts of states. But experience also taught him that those who remain like marble are the most dangerous to themselves.

"You mentioned details?" The French accent asked.

The notary nodded, a distraught expression on his face, before he sat back at his desk. 

"She left a letter for you." He put his glasses on. "I understand you were married?" 

The man sitting on the sofa took another quick yet generous swig of his whiskey, the burning liquid making him almost gag.

“Oui.” He simply answered after taking a deep breath to soothe himself, his fingers only ending up clenching harder on the glass he was holding. 

“But you were not living together, if what I heard is correct.”

The man on the sofa nodded, his head still lowered, his grey front tuft of hair waved in the air. 

“I also understand that only her family was at her side in the end.” The notary said and the poor man frowned. “They were surprised to learn that all along she was actually married. They did not know of this union.”

“Non, they did not.”

The notary knew he was dealing with no ordinary man but this…? This added up to the exception.

“The ceremony will take place tomorrow. Her family will be there.”

The Frenchman nodded and stored this somewhere in his mind before asking what he had been burning to.

“May I see the letter?” A shaking voice asked before the man lit up a cigarette, his gaze still evading the notary’s. 

“Of course. Here is a copy.”

“Do you have the original?”

“Yes but I cannot let you see it, it is-”

The notary’s voice stopped when the man sitting on the sofa finally raised his eyes to him. His face was dark, furious, boiling. His light blue eyes sliced the shadow cast by his front tuft, a menacing curtain falling on his forehead, and the tip of his cigarette shone in a more fierce shade of orange.

He handed him the original.

Instantly the man took it to his nose and smelt it. Tears came to his eyes that he prudely closed for a moment. Rose water and a hint of jasmine. Oui, that was her. Thank God the perfume hadn’t faded yet! He smiled, but his body and his face were screaming bittersweetness, nostalgia and deeper down, something he hated to show, like a weakness. 

Love.

He loved her with all the fibres of his body. There wasn’t a sight more pleasant than her smile, a song more melodious than her voice, a taste more forbidden than her lips’.

He raised a shaking gloved hand to his forehead and opened his eyes to read the will. The handwriting was unmistakingly hers. He recognised it. It was a bit more shaky than when he last saw it, but it was hers.

“My sweetheart Lulu,”

The man clenched his jaw further, feeling the strain on his cheeks and grinding his teeth to hold back what he would let out later, in his own private time.

“I am sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier. I didn’t know how to, I didn’t know where you were, how you were. But I knew you never forgot about me. As long as I received the flowers, the gifts for Jay, the chocolates and sometimes, the cassettes, I knew you were alive and well.

The last letter I received from you dates back to my birthday and I kept it under my pillow until the very end. If you are reading this, my family then knows about you, they must be wondering about a million things. But I didn’t answer anything. I couldn't tell them that Jeremy’s father is a French spy, that we got married in secret more than twenty years ago, that when Jeremy came into our lives, we decided to live separately with as little contact as possible to protect the boy, now a man. I couldn’t tell my family that I miss you everyday, yet I love you more by the day. 

My Lulu, I am not leaving you at all. I might even be closer to you now than before, who knows? Maybe the warmth you feel in your cheeks now is my touch? Maybe the tears you are hiding right now, I will dry, when you finally let them go.

My love, everything I have, I have left it to our son. It isn’t much and I am afraid it is more debt than help…

I ask of you two things, please, my sweetest of hearts. The first is to help Jeremy. Help him with a job, please. He still doesn’t know you, I never told him who you were. I think it is your call to make. If you ever decide to know him, I know you will see how much he got from you... 

The second is please, never stop singing. Promise me to sing more, I want to hear you now, more than ever.

Je t’aime and goodbye,

Your little flower, Marie.”

The Frenchman’s heart was in his throat. He was on the sofa, in this wooden room where the sun didn’t shine, where the flowers in the vase next to him where fake, where he wished he could bite in his glass of whiskey and chew on the glass shards, crush them and let them slice through him, let the pain be physical, anywhere on his body, his face, anything but this. It was harder to bear with each second.

He didn’t realise it but his hands were trembling on the letter. He stared at it a bit more and cleanly folded it before putting it in his inner pocket. 

“Sir, I-”

Again, the sheen of the light blue eyes left very little room for discussion.

“I am sorry but I must ask you to give me back the original, it is an official document for this procedure and I can hardly-argh!”

In the blink of an eye, the Frenchman had leapt in the air from the sofa to the desk, overlooking it. His face was less than an inch away from the notary’s astonished one. 

“I will keep her letter.” The French accent threateningly said, his teeth clenched like a furious panther’s.

“B-But Sir-argh?!”

Something cold was against the notary’s throat. Something cold and pointy. It was pressing against his fragile column of air.

“A-Alright, y-you can keep it…”

The Frenchman backed off from the desk and the notary watched him flick some sort of blade between his fingers before he dropped it in one of his pockets. His jaw dropped. He had just been threatened with a knife.

“I was not asking.”

“W-well…” The notary pulled on his collar to have a bit more air come to his lungs. He wiped the sweat off his brow. “W-why threaten me then?” 

The Frenchman took his jacket again and put it on before heading to the door. He left without adding a word. 

It was still the afternoon of that late September day and in Boston, the weather started to get colder but was still very bearable. 

Lucien took a deep breath and sighed when he was finally out of the notary’s practice and into the street. The light breeze did not help get more oxygen to his lungs. Or maybe it did, but no amount of air could help. He slipped back into the taxi and the driver took him back to his hotel. 

As soon as he set foot in the five-star establishment, a young man in a red and golden uniform came to him. 

“Sir, there has been a phone call for you, they said it was urgent and you should call back, here is the number.” He was holding a tray on which was a card. Lucien took it and read the number that he recognised only too well. He nodded and headed to the elevator. 

As it took off and hovered higher and higher, Lucien could see more and more of the city underneath him through the windows. He saw it all. The restaurant they had met in, while undercover as a singer, the park he had taken her to, the movie theatre he had invited her to, where they had shared their first kiss, the streets of her city, the roads, streets, avenues that were once so familiar. They now looked like grey, narrow valleys dug in the concrete of buildings, slithering like the bed of dead rivers. 

Ding ding.

The jingle of the bell in the elevator broke his train of thought. 

“Here we are, Sir.”

Lucien turned away from the windows to face the doors that slid open. He entered the carpeted corridor and soon found his door. The keys jangled as they exited his pocket and the next thing he knew, he was inside. 

He had rented an en-suite room with a double bed - habits die hard - and went straight to the minibar to help himself to some more strong alcohol. He didn't mind the taste and just wanted the burn and bitterness; anything really to move his pain from his heart to his body.

He grabbed a bottle of God knows what and poured some before drinking, chugging the entire glass down his throat in one go, before the glass hit the counter again loudly. He hissed under the unpleasant feeling of the alcohol scorching as it glided through his oesophagus and stomach.

Lucien removed his jacket and threw it on the coathanger before he undid his tie. He only fished out the letter and slipped it in his trousers' pocket.

“Mon Dieu…”

He grabbed the bottle and the glass, and headed to the sofa. On his way, he kicked his shoes off and frowned. He hated seeing people do that - remove their shoes with their feet, damaging the leather. But he couldn't be asked to do it properly with his hands. For all he knew, those shoes could go to hell.

He flopped down on the sofa and poured himself some more whiskey. The glass and the bottle shone under the flames of the fireplace opposite him. It caught his eye for an instant and blinded him. He grumbled and looked away, to his left and - oh, the bedroom door. 

His eyes hung there for a while, the bottle and glass hanging in mid-air. 

From where he was sitting, he could only see the bed, large and empty, cold even, he could feel it. 

He would have killed for one more night with her. He would have… 

Lucien sighed and drank some more before lighting another cigarette and sucking his anger away at it. 

His eyes came back in front of him, and he saw the letter. His mind rolled back more than two decades ago. Meeting Marie, falling in love with her, falling in love for the first time. 

But his job as a spy was way too dangerous for her, for him, and soon, for the little boy that Lucien was delighted to hold in his arms for the first time. And it was soon decided. A wedding, in secret, just him, her and two witnesses, people who happened to be in the church praying that day. They didn't even know them. They got married and Lucien stayed long enough for baby Jérémy to have a vague souvenir of his father. 

He loved them. Lucien loved Marie and Jérémy. He loved them so much that he left them, and it broke his heart. Everyday he wished he could hold them in his heart. But he was too good at his job and wanted to keep it. It paid him a fortune and he could send some money to help. 

Another sigh that failed to take his frustration and his guilt out of him. 

Lucien stood up and walked to the window that he opened wide. He looked at the tiny city, busy underneath him. To all these people, today was a normal day. Some of them might even be happy… 

But for him, today felt awful. 

His eyes swept across the streets as he walked back in time to where he had met her. Mary, his Marie. It had been a busy night in the restaurant he was working at. He was undercover, a singer, trying to get closer to a frequent client. He had worked hard for months to approach his target. But that night wasn’t the one he managed to sit and dine with that shady nobody. Instead, an angel crossed his path. 

Marie.

She wasn’t shy and he liked her boldness. He thought it was very American of her to be this way, to think that she could get whatever she wanted, if only she worked hard enough for it. Mon Dieu… She had come to his changing room, backstage, with her blue dress and matching headband, her lips were glossy red and her eyelashes, more beautiful than a butterfly’s wings in summer, fluttering to half hide the deep blue irises that he saw too vividly now.

She had knocked at his door and the moment he had opened it, the sight of her seized him like a hand to the throat. She raised her eyes to him and gave him a smile that still burnt his insides. Without hesitation, she started talking as if they had known each other for a long time, asking him a million questions.

Of course, back in those days, Lucien was quite valued on the market of love. Tall and slim, his hair still all black and combed back, light blue, almost grey eyes that looked in the deepest corners of one’s mind, impeccable manners, a smirk that weakened the knees of any woman in sight and a French accent that made them fall in his arms effortlessly…

He remembered that she kept coming to listen to him night after night. They would enjoy something to eat together. She had tried to invite him but he always insisted. 

Une aussi jolie fleur que toi ne paie pas.

Such a beautiful flower as you are does not pay.

It had started as a distraction, a pleasant surprise in his life. But soon, Lucien found himself waiting for those knocks at his door, in the changing room backstage. He realised that on the few nights she wouldn’t come, he would feel uncomfortable. Something was odd, something wasn’t right, like a pebble in his shoe, something he could live with but… 

And looking inside him he understood that in fact, he was missing her. Him, the man with more love conquests than there were stars in the night sky. He had fallen. In love oui, but he had fallen. Fallen under those eyes, fallen on his knees for her, always looking for her when he sang now. His eyes would frantically scan his audience, the crowd who came to applaud him, he did not hear them! Of course not! Oh! There she was! Ah, Marie…

His eyes would stop on her and from the moment he found her, his secret flower, he would sing and dance for her. Oui, he would even stand up from his piano and dance, make a fool of himself in front of a full room of guests. He would smile only after he would see her grin and wished oh so dearly the whole room would fall silent to hear only her beautiful laughter...

Oh he remembered how they stayed so late in the restaurant that countless times, they had to be pushed out of it. It had happened a few times before Lucien one night asked her to stay.

“Marie?”

“Yeah?” She raised her round eyes to him.

“Stay, please. Don’t walk back home so soon.”

“It… It’s very late, Lucien.” She chuckled and wrapped her arms around herself tighter against the cold.

Oui, with Marie, he had given her his real name straight ahead. Something in his guts had told him that it was safe to do so. He knew it was wrong and dangerous, foolish even! But non, with Marie, it felt wrong to lie.

“Please, ma petite fleur.”

[my little flower]

She had blushed. He could barely see it in the darkness of the night, but the street light was enough and he did see it!

“Fine,” She yielded and Lucien never knew, but of course she wanted to stay. “What is it?” She asked.

“Let us wait for a few minutes. Are you cold?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“Here.” Lucien removed his coat and wrapped her in it.

“Aren’t you cold?” She asked and he smiled. 

“Jamais quand tu es près de moi.”

[Never when you are near me.]

“You know I don’t get French, right?”

“Oui, I do.”

“Then say it in English.”

“Non.” He chuckled and blushed, turning slightly away to hide himself.

“Come on…! It’s unfair!” She pulled him back from the panes of his jacket.

“I cannot.” He confessed, still looking away from her.

“Why not? I’m sure you know the words and all. Your English is perfect, c’mon!”

“Non, Marie, please, don’t make me say it…” He looked down and his front tuft of hair, the same one that is grey now, it fell on his forehead. 

“Lucien…”

The Frenchman closed his eyes when he felt her cold hand on his cheek. He raised his eyes to her.

“Please…?”

And for the first time in his life he understood what it felt like to be the one who is in love, to be the one who feels ill when the other one isn’t here, and to feel blessed when they were together.

“My little flower, I’m never cold when you are near me.” He yielded eventually and to his greatest delight, her grin widened before she hugged him, like that, unexpectedly. She had just leapt to him and held on to the panes of his jacket dearly, with her head and her black hair right below his chin. He wrapped his arms around her and kept her close. He was freezing but he didn’t feel it. All he knew was that he held in his arms the first and only person he ever loved.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #unalone

[artemis-verse]

i miss you, i’m sorry

summary: A low mumble, “I’m sick of this.” His hushed confession goes unheard by her yet she pretends she didn’t catch on that for the sake of her broken heart crumbling from his words. note: features time skip! oikawa. spoilers about oikawa’s future career though. some scenes included flashbacks. all characters in present timeline is 21+. fem! reader. she/her pronouns.

song: i miss you, i’m sorry by gracie abrams word count: 1,254 words warnings: swearing, toxic relationship genre: angst arthie’s note: was suppose to publish this yesterday on sunday but i didn’t have any wifi hence the delay :(( anyways this fic is dedicated to flo flo!! it was her birthday yesterday and i purposely wanted to post this fic on her birthday but my wifi says no :< anyways, sorry if it’s not that great, i’ve been running on little to no sleep lately and my brain is fried ;-; hope yall still enjoy it nevertheless (´ ∀ ` *) ↳ main masterlist ↳ minor series masterlist ⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰ His roaring laughter imprinted in her mind, the way wrinkles formed around his mouth when he smiles or how soft his tousled hair was. “I can’t do this anymore.” Those words echoed loudly, clear and direct as if he’s standing right in front of her, watching her with disinterest. A low mumble, “I’m sick of this.” His hushed confession goes unheard by her yet she pretends she didn’t catch on that for the sake of her broken heart crumbling from his words. During that day, he left her all alone as she sinks down to the floor, sobbing while her chest twisted in agony.

She had only found out through Kunimi that Oikawa had left Japan and went to start a new life in Argentina. Guess I really meant nothing to him, huh? Didn’t even bother to tell me he was leaving either.. She thought to herself bitterly, walking down the sidewalk. An enthusiastic cheer startled her out of her thoughts, glancing at the source of acclamation, she noticed a child clapping her hands joyfully as the mom stares at the pastries displayed behind the glass window. “Which one do you want?” The mother asked her gleeful child who looked up with glints of jovial. “I want the milk bread!” Letting out a chuckle, the mother clutched her child’s hand and entered the bakery together. Without even realizing, her feet had carried her all the way to stare at the baked goods. A sense of nostalgia flows with the wind, his voice rings in the back of her mind. “Y/n-chan~ please just let me feed you this milk bread!” He pouted, blinking innocently. She rolled her eyes, “Fine. Don’t feed me too much, Tooru.” His face breaks into a grin and he happily tears off the bread, making a “aaaah ~” sound as he opens his mouth, trying to get her to do the same. Imitating him, she chews on the fluffy milky bread that dissolved into her mouth after a few chews. Savouring on the taste, she hummed as a sign of approval, “Not bad.” He grinned even wider, “Right?! I love milk bread so much ~ I’m so happy that Y/n-chan likes it too!” He exclaims, popping in the bread into his mouth with a delighted face. She only shook her head and drank her water when he said, “I’ll make sure to feed you lots of milk bread till you love it as much as me! I’ll do it forever if I have to ~” Snorting at that statement, she stared at him back, “What do you mean forever? Are you gonna be by my side all the time?” She teased, adoring the way his ears turned red. “Of course! I’m gonna be with you forever! You’re not ever getting rid of me, Y/n-chan. I’ll be by your side all the time ~” He remarked, smiling as her face flushed from the declaration. “Lady, please move!” A voice pulled her out of her reverie as she swiftly dodges the bicycle approaching her way. A sigh escapes her lips, glancing at the milk bread displayed once again as she walks away from the haunting memories of him that is bound to clog up her brain. Entering the empty apartment, lingering presence of his past hides behind these walls. Trudging to the couch, she plopped down, observing the dull living room with a bitter feeling. Closing her eyes, she can hear the faint screams circling in her mind, reigniting the relationship she once had with him. A miserable feeling yet she still cling onto him as if he was her saviour. “I told you to leave me alone!” He roared as the glass shattered across the floor, fury distinct in his chocolate eyes. Swallowing the fear away, she bent her head down in shame, only nodding and hastily grabs her belongings to flee out of his house. Slamming the door shut, she ran away as fast as she could, letting the tears stream down her cheeks as his yells echoed clear and loudly in her head. The disappointment that flashed throughout his face will haunt her for years. Beep! Beep! The notification snapped her back to reality, lazily clutching onto the device, she checked the incoming messages. Unknown: i miss you Frowning at the sudden proclamation, she examined the digits, a foreign number..? A realization struck her as she concluded on who’s the mysterious sender is.  Biting her lip down harshly, she threw the phone onto the wall, frustrated against his mind games. She feels hopeless and agitated yet a part of her still loves him no matter how bad the relationship got. ⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ On the 16th of December, she coincidentally bumped into a tall stranger, “Sorry.” She muttered out an apology, quickly helping him pick the books that he was holding. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” He replies, gazing up at her as her eyes become wide. “Tooru...”  The man froze on the spot, gawking at her with disbelief. Her eyes darted across his face, noticing how his hair was no longer kept long instead he opted to cut it short and how he had gained a few pounds compared to the lanky figure he used to sported back in school. He blinked rapidly as if he could not believe she was standing in front of him, “Y/n-chan... what are you doing here?” “Shouldn’t I be the one to ask you that?” She scoffed, not bothering to hid the venom rooted inside her voice. “Seriously? I had to find out through your junior that you had moved miles away to fucking Argentina and you didn’t even dare to spoke a word to me?!” She spat, enraged upon all of the silence between them ever since they part ways. He only looked at her with a blank expression, merely reacted to her outburst. “I don’t owe you anything. We broke up remember?”  Ignoring the twisting agony inside her chest, she nodded her head in understanding. “I remember vividly actually. Surprised you still acknowledge my existence though. All of that doesn’t matter anymore, after all, I’m just a toy to you aren’t I?”  The revelation gleamed in those hazel eyes, staring wide open at his ex-lover. Before he could even utter out a word, she shook her head. “I don’t want your explanation nor your closure. Just.. please— don’t ever come back again.” Turning her back on him, she waited for his reply. “Okay.” Was all that he said, it’s foolish of her to even think that he would mutter out reassuring words and beg for her to stay yet she knew deep down that the words she longed for has dissipated, just like the love they once had. ⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ A year has passed by and not a single moment where a reminder of him pops inside her head. It seemed as if everything will always lead her back to him, no matter how painful it is. On the bright enormous screen, she can clearly see Oikawa in his uniform, a serious, focused expression as he sets the ball to his teammate.  She ignores the stinging sensation that she feels, accepting their fate. She had come to terms at the fact that they were never soulmates— never meant for each other.  Even if she wants him so desperately or how much he actually craves her affection, they’ll always end up feeling miserable and numb. Taking a final look at the man she used to love, she smiled sadly, I miss you, I’m sorry. 

#oikawa x you #oikawa x reader #oikawa x y/n #oikawa torū #oikawa tooru #oikawa angst #oikawa fanfiction #oikawa fic #oikawa imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! fanfiction #haikyuu!! fic #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! x y/n #hq oikawa #hq angst #hq fanfic #haikyuu!! x you #artemisverse minor series #oikawa x fem!reader

[felidaefighter]

Keeping Promises To His Reflection

Sequel to Love You To The Point Of Violence; AKA Sapnap keeps his promise to Quackity and, by proxy, Dream

[cw: angst, character death]

It had been a long time since Sapnap had properly hunted anyone. It was invigorating, in a way, and almost reminded him of the good old days he’d spent sparring with Dream and George. Almost. Now, though, the fire that had initially fueled his passion and love burned with rage and resentment and spread into his sword, which sparked and flickered with heat and Flame. He was burning from the inside out in every way, and he intended to share this feeling with the unlucky person he was hunting via his blade.

Sapnap walked with the heavy, certain footsteps of the soldier he once was-- and in all honesty, still was-- forward, deliberate, and imbued with intent. He had never been known for mercy-- didn’t have any sort of track record for it in any of his wars-- but that didn’t mean he couldn’t love. Just meant he was careful with his love and loyal to his core. That loyalty came with the toll he was here to collect. The flames from his sword cast deep shadows from the spruce around him, and his eyes flickered through the trees, hoping to catch someone moving with the shadows.

“There’s no use in hiding,” Sapnap called in a sing-song voice that did little to mask his feelings, “And you can’t outrun me. If you have a horse I’ll just bow it down. I mean, you know me.” With a steadying exhale that immediately had Sapnap turning towards him, Quackity stepped out of the shadows. “Can we talk about this? I just want to talk. We can just talk, right?” Sapnap sighed, stepping towards his ex-fiance. “I mean... I don’t want to lie to you, Quackity.” Two strong-willed individuals staring eachother down. It would’ve been quite a sight, in any other circumstance. But only one of them was wearing netherite.

Standing less than a hair’s length away from one another, the two men could argue that the tension between them was solely a face-off of powerful people; but it would be a lie if they never acknowledged just how much of it came from their history. They could pretend, if they wanted, that their skin didn’t itch with the memory of embrace that would only burn with bitterness if they acted on nostalgia. Instead, Sapnap’s eyes bored into Quackity’s own, a relentless gaze that wouldn’t yield no matter the silver of Quackity’s tongue.

Sapnap still ached, in no small part, to run his rough and calloused warrior’s hand over the scar on Quackity’s face as he discussed it, but he couldn’t, not anymore. “I talked to Tubbo about the butcher army he ran,” Sapnap explained-- Quackity looked quizzical, having not yet figured out where he was leading. “Or rather, the butcher army you ran. It was your idea, your ‘hitlist’. And Dream was on there too.” Now Quackity knew. Despite the space between them, Sapnap could still feel Quackity’s breath hitch and heart race just a little faster. Creating a defense that both of them knew Sapnap wouldn’t buy.

“Sapnap, Tubbo was the president. He really said that to you? He’s just trying to absolve himself of any guilt so you don’t attack him! That should be obvious to you.” The resentment Sapnap felt that was still burning within him. Mostly, towards himself. “Is it really second nature for you to lie like that now? What happened to you Quackity?” He thought that having his brother be the prime example of where it all went wrong would make it easier to spot in anyone else, but apparently, it just made him less willing to acknowledge it in someone he loved. Fool me once type beat. More than anything, he felt used. He had been a soldier for Quackity and Dream both. He had been loyal to Quackity and Dream both.

Coals still burn white-hot and deadly long after the flames are gone, and that was more akin to what Sapnap was feeling than a heartache. He thought he had known Dream, until it became apparent that they had drifted so much farther apart than he’d realized, and it was no longer the truth. He had thought he’d known Quackity, too. But now, it was safe to say he had never known Quackity at all. That didn’t stop the embers of his love. Didn’t stop his loyalty. Didn’t-- Sapnap’s resolve and gaze hardened-- stop him from intending to keep his promise.

And Quackity, ever so smart, was beginning to realize the situation he had put himself in. Here in front of him stood a renowned warrior, an ex-lover, and someone whom he had betrayed the trust of-- with a fire in his heart, a sword in his hand, and little more than Quackity to lose. The open woods didn’t stop him from feeling cornered. The light coming from Sapnap did not quell his fears, as his ease nowadays came from the silence and lack of witness that was offered by the dark. Sapnap spoke, and Quackity bit his tongue to keep quiet, feeling blood like liquid silver from his mouth and run like poison down his throat.

“Y’know, I was angry at Dream for betraying George and I back when we were trying to get El Rapids up and running. I wanted to kill him. But I thought about it, and I realized something.” Quackity took a step back. Sapnap took a step forward. “You didn’t actually care. You saw George and I as an opportunity for you. Despite it all, Quackity, I still love Dream. And the only thing that hurts more than his betrayal right now is the fact that you used that for your own means.” There was too much irony in it all, and Sapnap was sick of it.

Quackity wanted to ask Sapnap why he still loved Dream. Wanted to blame Dream for everything, call him a monster, tell Sapnap he did it all for him. But they were well past that. They’d had that conversation and Quackity would spare them the indignity of having it again. So instead, he took a good and proper look at Sapnap’s face. He expected Sapnap to look angry. Or disgusted. Hell, he’d even take “contempt”. What he got instead was so much worse, and apprehension rocketed through his core. Something buried in the shards of his heart shook loose, and after running ice through his veins it gave him wide eyes, terror, and the tiny, desperate flame of love that he hadn’t quite managed to snuff out.

‘I love you, I have always loved you, I still love you, I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,’ written all over Sapnap’s face. A man who kept his promises to those he loved. The silver had bled out of Quackity’s words, and instead he was left with a quiet, desperate whisper, reminiscent of the man he used to be. “Sapnap, you’re not gonna kill me,” Quackity begged, and the man known being ruthless gently grabbed Quackity’s arm and stared into his eyes.

“You’ve hurt so many people,” Sapnap said, pained, his grip tightening slightly as Quackity attempted to shift away. “You’ve crossed too many lines. You’re worse than Dream ever was, and that’s saying something.” Quackity could feel the heat from the man’s skin, and it almost rivaled the temperature of the blade that was still radiating flames and forming something of a gate at the opposite side. “Sapnap, you know I’d never want to hurt you.” He tried appealing to the man’s romantic senses, tried pretending there was nothing left of his own. “All of this was only ever about what you wanted. You hurt Karl and I. You betrayed our trust.”

So close now, Quackity could almost forget he was afraid. There was no point in backing up. The silver had been drained from his tongue; his only true claim to power. He had no horses in the race anymore. No more cards to put on the table and no ace up his sleeve. Just the love of the man who was keeping him from running away. “You’re not gonna kill me,” he tried again, and Sapnap looked sorry for him. Not in a way that meant pity, though. That was good. Pity was something Quackity loathed.

“Quackity, you can still trust me. I made you a promise.” And it hurts,  for Quackity, that he shares a promise with Dream. He feels regret stab through his heart, feels the heat of his true emotions and the blood soak into his shirt and the burn of his feelings and the blade that slides through him like he was no more than fragile glass. Quackity is burning. Anger and resentment, love and passion, regret for the things he couldn’t do. Regret for the things he did-- maybe. Not really, if he’s being honest. He coughs up blood as Sapnap holds him, steady as always.

He pulls his sword out of Quackity’s chest and smoke pours out of the wound as freely as blood. It smells terrible, of course, but neither of them have the mind to point that out. Quackity’s lungs feel charred and wet at the same time. He speaks in a broken voice. “I’m pissed about this,” he confesses, “But I’m glad that after everything, I can still trust you. You never let me down when you make a promise.” They crouch down, though for Quackity it’s more like collapsing. Sapnap is still holding onto him, keeping him upright, and Quackity finds himself holding onto Sapnap right back. He tells himself he has no attachments. He’s too good at lying now; he can even do it to himself.

The ashes of their relationship make no phoenix. There is no rebirth in this, no reconciliation. There on the needle bedding of pine there is only a man who went too far and a man who keeps his promises. Neither is free of sin, but neither do they feel regret. Do what has to be done, and love enough to see it through. It’s too hot on the smoldering earth for tears to stay, if there were any at all. Quackity exhales smoke and doesn’t inhale again after that. Sapnap sees two faces in the lifeless eyes, neither of which he could save-- except for this one, only in death.

Karl won’t understand. He doesn’t have to. He only needs to accept and move on. The man he thought he loved-- the man they both thought they loved-- should have been mourned when he truly died, long before their engagement. Sapnap absently touches his ring finger, before letting out a furious scream of anguish and burying his sword in the earth in an act more primal than he would let himself feel earlier. Flames eat at the forest bedding and flicker around him and the body he holds, but Sapnap knows fire and if he’s honest, he doesn’t care about anything else right now. Let the forest burn-- he’s done worse. The man born from fire takes his former lover home.

#mcyt fanfic #sapnap #quackity #mcyt fanfiction #they write #PROUD OF THIS ONE LET'S GO BOIIISSSSS

[fangirlyah]

✦ the future ahead - Edmund Pevensie x Reader

summary: where you both think about the future but neither says anything. without communication anything can go wrong

warnings: none

word count: 1,784

even though you saw the birds fly and the scent of freshly baked bread wafting from the bakeries around you, on that winter afternoon, nothing compared to narnia. a feeling of nostalgia hit your thoughts and almost threw you off track. even though you were with edmund and lucy, the need to return to the great kingdom would come from time to time.

they had said goodbye to narnia a year ago and the kingdom had not yet requested you three, so edmund and lucy were still stranded at their uncles' house. you visited them almost every weekend and this was no exception.

“we are going to look for the vegetables, y/n. edmund, you go for the dairy” the pevensie’s aunt had been more than clear on what they should buy in the village store, so they couldn't go wrong. edmund went to look for the products while you and lucy went looking for the rest.

while you finished parking the bike, you waited for edmund's kiss on your cheek, as he always did before going somewhere without you, but it never came. he just turned around and went on his way.

"ed is been acting so weird" you and the youngest of the pevensies walked side by side until you reached the queue of people outside the grocery store, your topic of conversation was your boyfriend.

"I have noticed, since the other night he is distant" his sister said looking at you sideways. you didn't know what had gone wrong that night, because according to your memory it had been a common friday night dinner with his uncles. it was not the first time you had eaten with his uncles and his cousin, who he despised so much, and he had never behaved like this before.

"I want to think that spending so much time with eustace has affected him, because as far as I remember nothing went wrong at dinner" while you took out the list of vegetables that should be bought from your coat, you saw lucy's look and you knew that she knew something else.

"it's edmund, you know that expressing his feelings is not his strong suit"

"I know but ... we have been together for three years, I believed that hidden feelings were something of the past" it was hard not to grieve. your boyfriend had been ignoring you for two days and you couldn't find the reason inside your head.

you did the shopping almost automatically while you were thinking of thousands of things, one of them being the fact that, perhaps, edmund wanted to end your relationship. when you became aware that edmund was likely to want to break up with you, instead of going back to the bikes with the commander, you wanted to run away and cry in your bed. you thought what could you have done wrong?

"where is edmund?" lucy looked around for her brother, stopping only to observe a couple in the distance. they looked in love and lucy thought what she should do to have a boy so in love with her, as she saw her brother with you or the unknown boy from the warehouse.

a long line of men came out of a room; you knew that inside the place, there wasn't anyone selling the dairy products that he had been asked for, so it was rare that he was there. but his sister and you decided to look, just in case.

your suspicions were correct because when you two entered the venue, edmund was first in line, talking to a man sitting behind a table. at first you didn't understand what he was doing there, but when you saw the poster hanging on the table, you understood.

‘military enlistment row. no studies required '

ed had never mentioned he wanted to enlist and that worried your heart a little more than before. since when did he hide so much from you?

"edmund! you should be helping out with the groceries! " lucy called him from the entrance making your boyfriend turn angrily looking for the voice. there he saw you with a pained face and, for a moment, his stress and worry disappeared. he knew that he should give some explanations later, which would mean talking to you and facing seeing you in the face.

without whispering a word, the three left the room in search of the bicycles, ignoring the jeers of the other men trying to enlist, who were old enough.

"since when have you been interested in the army, edmund?" his sister spoke questioning him. even though he hadn't spoken to you, when he left the place he was waiting to hear your voice scolding him, that way he would know that you still cared. instead, lucy accused him while being distracted by the previous couple.

“I have fought battles and wars in narnia, I am the best sword fighter in all the kingdom! I need that adrenaline again” you didn't even look at him, rather you were making sure that all the food ordered was already bought and well placed on the bike to avoid accidents.

"ee are no longer in narnia, ed!"

the return was silent. a silence that everyone needed before reaching the house and being attacked by eustace even for breathing. the pevensie’s cousin was not mean to you, on the contrary he treated you better than his relatives but, as time passed, he began to gain confidence and now he made some acid remarks against you that were stopped by edmund.

the house was silent, so you assumed that the family had gone out for their monday walk and you thanked for the moment of calm.

"someone at home?!" the kitchen was empty, as well as the living room; so they gently turned on the radio and began to sort the newly bought groceries into the cupboards and refrigerator. edmund had not managed to buy everything that had been asked, so lucy had to go looking for them, insulting her brother on the way to the front door. edmund had probably seen the poster and immediately went to sign up, although the fact that he had a false identification meant that he had already thought about it before; long enough to come up with a plan and steal his aunt’s papers.

"why didn't you tell me you wanted to join the english army?" you turned around from where you were standing, with your back to the counter, watching your boyfriend take food out of paper bags. he did not look at you nor did he answer you, he only raised his shoulders as a sign that he did not know or did not care “do you really want to get out of here? I know you want to go back to narnia and everything, but...the army is dangerous, you would be years out of the country and no magical lion will come to your rescue if they throw a bomb on you"

"there is nothing here that stops me from going" edmund was being cold on purpose, he wanted to hurt you like you had hurt him a few nights ago.

"are you talking seriously?" your voice dropped noticeably and your eyes watered, especially when you saw how he raised his shoulders again. “can you at least tell me what I did wrong? because you have treated me like garbage since the other night and I have kept awake trying to understand where I screwed up but... believe me I can't figure it out” you were hurt and edmund hated being the cause of that pain.

his voice never left his throat, leaving you standing in front of him like a fool. when two minutes had passed and he was still looking at the bag in front of him without a word, you put down the can of tuna that you were holding and went to the stairs. you wanted to hide in the bedroom you shared with lucy during your stay and cry, he didn't want you there so when you could calm down, you would pack your suitcase and go back to finchley.

when you were stepping on the last step before reaching the second floor a voice distracted you.

"you said you didn't want to marry me!" you turned your body and saw him on the first step looking at you with tears in his eyes.

"what?" your mind presented you with a vague memory and you understood where the question was coming from.

"you were in the kitchen with my aunt, helping her with the dirty dishes ... and ... and you said you didn't want to marry me!" your feet went down two steps, getting closer but still very far.

"I never said that" you two had never talked about marriage, but the fact that you had been together for three years and you were close to reaching adulthood; marriage wasn't a crazy thought anymore 

"yes you did, don't lie to me!" you went down two more steps.

"I said ... I wasn't thinking of getting married now" a silence filled the room for a few seconds while your boyfriend lowered his head

"so ... do you think about marriage? ... I mean our marriage? ... for the future of course!" you finished going down the steps that remained reaching his height, to gently take his cheeks and raise his eyes to you.

"edmund ... you are the love of life, don't you think I think of a future for us?" you said sweetly as your eyes watered and you wiped away his tears.

"you do?" his arms wrapped around you leaving your faces even closer.

"I don't know what's ahead, but ... I know I want, whatever it is, to face it with you ... it's just that we're seventeen years old, ed...we have a lot of time to find out where the wedding will be” your last sentence caused a giggle from him.

"sorry for ignoring you, it's just that ... I got scared, because... I always think about a future with you and I thought ... maybe, you don't"

“in a few years when you put a ring on my finger, you will remember this weekend and think: I was a little fool"

with that phrase you sealed your lips in a sweet kiss, that moved to the beat of the radio song that sounded far away.

and as you said, it was. because seven years later, when edmund saw you running through the park with your child, he looked at your left hand adorned with the ring that had cost him so much to buy and smiled. you were right.

#edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie fanfic #edmund pevensie x y/n #fanfic #fanfiction #one shots #imagine #the cronicles of narnia #the voyage of the dawn treader #lucy pevensie

[sunshinereversed]

𝙙𝙮𝙡𝙖𝙣’𝙨 “𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙡”: 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙮𝙨𝙞𝙨

I think it’s eerily prophetic how the song “Flowers on the Wall” (performed by the Statler Brothers) radiates so strongly with Dylan Klebold. The country tune has already been associated with Dylan because it appears in the background of the video where he and Nate are driving to school. But if you really listen to the lyrics and reflect on Dylan’s inner struggles, they coincide strangely well.

Let’s take the very first line of the song.

I keep hearin' you're concerned about my happiness.

The constant ‘Are you okay? Are you sure you’re okay? You seem so down lately’ from his parents, especially Sue, is reflected here. His mother sees that Dylan is ‘moody and irritable,’ often withdrawn, spending time hauled up in his room. She notices the tightness of his voice, which is unlike him, and she offers to make him French toast or an omelet. This must be about something small, she thinks. Yet his sullen demeanor stays as days turn to weeks, and she must ask again in vain, ‘Are you okay?’

But all that thought you're givin' me is conscience, I guess.

It doesn’t even cross Sue’s mind that her son may be unwell. She is simply asking out of concern for him looking unhappy, believing whatever it is will solve itself out. His mother wears her heart on her sleeve, and it pains her to see him so sad. But what can she do if he refuses to talk about it? All she can do is ask and wait for it to pass. He’s a good kid, after all. He’ll do the right thing because she’s worked hard to instill her morals into what he does.

If I were walkin' in your shoes, I wouldn't worry none.

Dylan reassures her repeatedly. ‘I’m only tired. I have a lot of homework. Nothing’s wrong. No one gives me a tough time, I’m 6’4”.’ He wishes she would leave him alone. He thinks she wouldn’t understand; she wouldn’t listen. He tells his parents not to worry. ‘You can trust me,’ he tells his mother one evening after the prom. Dylan goes out of his way to prove that he is the golden child. It works, and they worry none.

While you 'n' your friends are worried about me I'm havin' lots of fun.

Dylan’s social life serves as a mask for what is going on in his mind. He goes over to his friends’ houses, bowls on Friday nights, makes videos after school, plays catch with his dad, and even watches old movies with his mother. He has pictures of good times with friends. Outwardly, he is smiling; life is a dream. This makes his parents rethink their concerns. He’s a happy kid who does normal teenage things. What is there to worry about? He’s assuring those around him that he’s fine.

Now here comes the chorus, which is a bit tricky but makes sense when you consider these things:

Countin' flowers on the wall.

If anyone is familiar with the book The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, this might be a clue. Like the protagonist in the book, Dylan is trapped in his four-walled cell (his bedroom) which is where he does most of his thinking and spiraling downwards. This is where he writes in his journal and vents his frustrations. It’s a toxic environment for his brain. His room is where he cries himself to sleep; hugs his pillow in loneliness; gets drunk by himself. Most importantly, it’s where he blurs fantasy and reality. While not as plainly mad as the poor woman from Gilman’s novel, Dylan is mentally tortured by what he perceives to be ‘an unfair/miserable existence’ and being ‘stuck in humanity.’ He rejects both, and often retreats into his fantasy where he is with his love and away from the world. The ‘flowers on the wall’ symbolizes his own deception of life when he is alone, and might not only symbolize his bedroom, but also his brain.

That don't bother me at all.

Unlike the real world, Dylan very much prefers to live in the fictional one he’s conjured within his mind. It’s his safe place. Paradoxically, his mind is also where he tears himself down and others around him. It’s a poisonous escape. Yet he is already so far gone in that escape, he can’t see the damage he is doing to himself. And he continues to do so, unbothered, and unaware.

Playin' solitaire till dawn with a deck of fifty-one.

‘Playing solitaire’ could be a metaphor symbolizing his isolation and loneliness, his solitude. Solitaire is a single-player game, and Dylan feels alienated most of the time, especially when he is sulking in his room. Thinking, always thinking. Sometimes, as the line implies, until dawn. He is a night owl who cannot sleep because his mind is constantly awake. Playing music, conversing in chats on the computer, formulating poems in his notebooks, doodling, or just thinking (negatively). He oversleeps often because he is up late doing these things. He is alone, in the middle of the night, consumed by his own sadness. Something is missing inside him, and that is why he plays with ‘a deck of fifty-one.’ He thinks a significant other is the thing that is missing, and if he finds her, he will finally be playing with fifty-two cards, figuratively.

Smokin' cigarettes and watchin' Captain Kangaroo.

For Dylan, this is a dichotomy. An everlasting contrast. The balance between two things, lightness, and darkness, good and evil, etc. He’s doing grown-up things like holding a job, applying to colleges, driving a car, and as the lyrics say, smoking cigarettes. Marlboro, preferably. At the same time, Dylan is caught between acting his age and longing for simpler days. This is where ‘watching Captain Kangaroo’ comes in. It’s a kid’s show and is intended for such an audience. Dylan thinks back with nostalgia for his childhood, when life wasn’t full of disappointments, stress, high school bullies, responsibility. He hangs onto items that remind him of his youth: his stuffed koala, origami, classic movies, his trademark baseball cap, his love for fixing old cars with his dad. Dylan is stuck somewhere in the middle of the two, never truly satisfied with one over the other.

Now don't tell me I've nothin' to do.

Again, Dylan tells those around him that he is perfectly fine by engaging in normal teenage things. He hides how depressed he feels. Dylan becomes increasingly irritated the more people ask if he’s okay. The repetition of this line throughout the song is more like a cry for help than a reassurance.

Last night I dressed in tails, pretended I was on the town.

This could symbolize several things, but what comes to my mind is Dylan’s prom night. The fact that he even goes to prom is a pleasant surprise to his parents, confirming that there’s nothing abnormal lurking on the horizon. His father helps him get dressed in his tuxedo, struggles to figure out how the bow tie works, and he pulls his newly washed hair back into a neat ponytail. His mother thinks he looks quite handsome, comparing him to a character in a movie they are both fond of. For a moment, he is just a normal high school kid going to a dance. Nothing out of the boring ordinary.

As long as I can dream it's hard to slow this swinger down.

For one night, at the prom, Dylan pretends this is his life. He is good at blocking out what he considers evil, and Dylan allows himself to enjoy the moment. He’s had a lot of practice at ignoring his pain. If he can retreat into the fantasy he’s created in his mind, he is capable of anything, good or bad. It’s like an out-of-body experience. He’s not there when he’s there. Nothing can stop him. He has two settings at this point, 0 and 100. An unhealthy dreamer can be deadly not only to others, but to the dreamer himself.

So please don't give a thought to me, I'm really doin' fine.

As mentioned previously, Dylan flies under the radar to not be asked about his well-being. He holds out his arms to point to all these social activities he’s engaging in with his friends as if to say ‘Look what I’m doing. I’m fine. Do not worry.’ It’s a cruel deception, and he doesn’t even realize he is being deceived as much as those around him are. Dylan starts to believe what he’s telling others. He doesn’t think he is worth the worry.

You can always find me here; I'm havin' quite a time.

‘Here’ can mean one of several places: his bedroom, his mind, or perhaps his existence. Either way, ‘I’m having quite a time’ is a sarcastic remark. He’s drowning in his harmful thoughts, yet that’s where he feels the safest. It’s his protective shell that he puts up against the world. Dylan entertains the idea over and over in his mind that his love is waiting for him in another existence. No matter where he physically is, he’s ‘always there’, lost in his thoughts.

The chorus repeats. Dylan outwardly seems okay. Left to his own devices, he is not.

It's good to see you, I must go, I know I look a fright.

This is a goodbye. Even though it is a casual farewell, it has deeply painful undertones. He says he didn’t like life too much but hopes he will find peace in the next one. He offers a final goodbye to those he loved, family and friends. ‘It’s good to see you’ displays how detached he feels toward the end. These are no longer people he knows fondly; it was simply good to see them. The thoughts must end, and he must leave before they worsen. Like the lyrics suggest, he doesn’t want to stick around and knows he must go. A big part of his self-esteem had to do with his self-image. The line ‘I know I look a fright’ symbolizes how negatively he thought of his own appearance. Dylan couldn’t see his own attractiveness. He felt awkward due to his height, long facial features, shaggy hair, and the way he dressed.

Anyway, my eyes are not accustomed to this light.

This is the trademark dark sunglasses that Dylan wears almost everywhere. He hides behind them, shielding his tears from the world. The light comes from the sun, and he cannot withstand the same light that others can, a nod to him feeling isolated from humanity. Though he is called the ‘sunshine boy,’ his eyes are not meant for its light. So, he dawns the shades to (metaphorically) keep it out.

And my shoes are not accustomed to this hard concrete.

Unlike the sneakers worn by the jocks at his high school, Dylan sports black combat boots. They are unusual among the other students, but Dylan feels comfortable in them. Again, he separates himself from the rest of humanity. He is not meant for it. He knows he must go somewhere he feels free.

So I must go back to my room and make my day complete.

By the end of the song, it becomes clear that Dylan now lives inside the world he’s created in his mind. It almost becomes odd for him not to retreat there at least once a day if not all the time. But like the final lyrics, he goes to stay there forever and never to return.

The final repetition of the chorus only emphasizes the truth. He was not ‘doing fine’, despite all the work of convincing others the opposite.

The last line loops again before the song ends. The upbeat and happy tune only makes the message more haunting.

Don't tell me I've nothin' to do.

And no one did.

#analysis #flowers on the wall #dylan klebold #american tragedy

[powerbottomeminem]

if ur still doin the kiss prompts, can u do the 51. public kiss but its em kissing kim and kells sees?

51. Public kiss (Eminem x Kim, MGK witness)

"What the fuck is this!", Colson's voice was too loud.

Marshall hadn’t closed the hotel room door yet, only a confused "Huh?" left him.

"Don’t play dumb with me", Colson snarled, "I shouldn’t even be here, you ... What the hell is it with you two?"

"Who?", Marshall asked still confused and walked closer.

Colson threw a magazine at him. "You and her. I don’t get it. Was this all just a trick to get her back? Or some weird revenge for the beef?"

"What the-?" The cover of the magazine had Marshall’s face on it and the headline read: Eminem and Kim, is it real love this time? "Oh come the fuck on!", Marshall huffed indignant and threw it on the couch table. "You know not to believe that shit. They always lie."

"Oh really?" Colson picked the magazine up again and opened it, shoving the page with a bunch of paparazzi photos into Marshall’s face. "Pictures don’t lie!"

Pictures of Marshall kissing Kim. New pictures of them.

"You swore it was over. In how many songs did you swear it was over?" Tears gleamed in Colson's eyes, but the anger kept them inside. "Am I just a joke to you? Fucking asshole!"

"Colson, hon, I-", Marshall started but his words wouldn’t be believed. It’s not what it looks like, yeah that’s what they all say. "Let’s talk about this", he said instead.

"No! Don’t butter me up or some stupid shit. Just break up with me, alright. Let’s get it over with. I can’t win against here anyway …", voice fading on the last words. Anger fading for sadness, the real feeling of the moment. "I should’ve never done this in the first place."

"But-" Marshall looked at his boyfriend - apparently soon to be ex-boyfriend - unbelieving and shocked. It was this easy to end? Didn’t they mean more to each other? A few stupid photos and it was over already? Then what was this even? Merely a fling, meaningless and without substance.

But Marshall’s heart hurt. "How can you even think that!", he yelled back, "Don’t you know how much bullshit that woman put me through? And I her? How can you even for a second believe I’d take her back? I learned my fucking lesson, you fucking idiot!" Fists balled and shaking, not with anger but pain. He’d thought this was good now, a relationship worth having. Not perfect by any means, but one where they understood each other. That’s all Marshall was really yearning for. Somebody who understood, somebody who knew, somebody to seek comfort with when life was getting too much.

And he’d thought to be that person for Colson, too. But perhaps Colson didn’t want that. What did Marshall know what the other wanted from this?

"I bet you said that the first time, too", Colson threw back at him. The anger sounded exhausted, easier to keep it up than to face reality.

Marshall knew that feeling but he never found how to break it. "Shut the fuck up! You know nothing!"

"I know enough!", their voices were both too high, too loud, "You still love her, don’t you. So you kiss her and take her back when she comes crawling! And I’m just a side piece!"

Marshall kicked against the couch table and it fell over from the force. "Shut! The fuck! Up!" That wasn’t what had happened, not this time. "It was just a stupid fucking kiss! Shit!" Why was this going so bad?

~.~

Kim smiled earnestly, almost shy. "This was surprisingly nice. Kinda weird but nice", a short look around the restaurant, empty but for them. She wasn’t used to this.

Neither was Marshall. This always felt eerie and weird to him, but this was his life and he had learned to live with it eventually. "Yeah, it was." Not being with each other for years had calmed down the waves, both of them hot heads, both of them finding this life stressful but perhaps for different reasons. Marshall wanted to say sorry. If it wasn’t for him, her life might’ve not been such a shitshow. Perhaps it would’ve still turned out this way, just less public. Who knew? He didn’t say it though.

They stood up from the table and their dinner, it felt like the last dinner they would ever have together. All three of their daughters grown up now, the last band holding them together grew thinner and thinner each year. There was no reason to meet anymore, less reason to have a real conversation.

Once Marshall had thought he’d never be without her, now he couldn’t imagine a life with her. The love that once was left nostalgia and obligation and memories, but looking at her now how she corrected the collar of her coat ... She was a woman he didn’t know and that was okay.

He held the door open for her and as she stepped through, he held her back for a moment. "Have a good life", he said quietly, honestly and kissed her goodbye.

Mild surprise on her face. "Good night, Marshall." She left for her car, only once looking back and waving at him briefly. Did she feel the same thing? He could never tell.

But tonight he didn’t mind. It didn’t matter and it would never again. She was just a woman securing her alimony now with the children out of the picture. And to his own surprise he didn���t mind that either.

~.~

"It was just a stupid kiss", Marshall repeated, not willing to let the hurt show. Colson didn’t deserve to see it if he believed this bullshit. "It didn’t even mean anything! Why’re you making such a mess?"

"I’m making the mess?", Colson asked indignant, "You fucking kissed her! Her of all people!"

Marshall threw his hands in the air frustrated. "Yes, you! She’s just a woman, don’t blow it out of proportion."

"No, she’s not", Colson huffed. "And you know that."

"Yes! I know that, so fucking believe me when I tell you she’s just a woman." He stared at Colson through slitted eyes, to hide the plea he felt filling them up with wetness. "And as a reminder, I don’t really like women all that much, aight."

Colson crossed his arms in front of his chest, his height always had him looking down on Marshall. "That’s hard to believe. Then why were you kissing her? Her of all people."

"Because ...", she wasn’t a part of his life anymore and he was sentimental enough to think of that as sad, right in every way but sad still. Marshall shrugged, "I can kiss whoever I fucking want."

"No, you can’t, asshole. Are you this stupid? You definitely can’t kiss her!" Desperation was gleaming through the anger, through the tears hard fighting not to be cried.

Marshall didn’t want to kiss her, not the way Colson thought. He really didn’t want to kiss anyone but Colson that way. Not necessarily meaning he wouldn’t end up doing something stupid at some point, but right here right now he wanted to kiss Colson, his boyfriend, the person he loved. But it seemed impossible.

Why was this so hard? Just one step, a few words, an apology and this whole thing could be over. But Marshall wasn’t in the wrong here. He hadn’t done anything and nothing that warranted yelling and shouting. Colson needed to make the first step.

But the only step Colson took was towards the hotel room door. "Fine! If you wanna kiss her so badly, do it. Be with her. Try it again with her. But don’t come running to me when you end up being burned again. That’s entirely on you!"

He held him back for a moment. "Don’t leave me, Colson", he said quietly, honestly and kissed him to stay.

Marshall was losing the fight like he always did when it came to love. Once he swore not to allow this shit again, to rather stay alone than let this happen again. But he hated being alone. He wanted to be with somebody who understood, somebody who knew, somebody to seek comfort with when life was getting too much.

But right now he wanted to be with Colson regardless. Perhaps some day the man could be one of those things, there was always hope underneath the pain.

#ask me shit #eminem kisses #kiss prompts #emgk #emgk asks #two idiots fighting #who’s surprised #not me

[sugargliderowl]

Thoughts on Janus’ Playlist...

Some of my first-time-hearing reactions to Janus’ playlist (sorry for the rambling parts):

Black Hole Sun: It’s apparently about depression according to Genius? Like it’s kinda like yearning for the depression to be sucked into the “black hole sun”... The snake references and heaven and hell is definitely Janus. Also, it sounds old-timey like a jazz song, so that sets up the mood of the entire playlist. I don’t really get this... but this feels like a mood setter for the entire thing, unless it means something else. What do you guys think?

It Seemed the Better Way: The strings? CHILLS. Leonard Cohen’s voice reminds me of Hades in Hadestown. “Sounded like the truth, seemed the better way... but it’s not the truth today” is just his motto is what I’m seeing. And then the “I better hold my tongue, I better take my place...” part feels like resignation to me. It’s either Janus is trying to help, but that didn’t work so he resigns to become the “villain” of the light sides. It could allude to the dark sides as a whole: they are all trying to help Thomas in their ways, but because being themselves doesn’t work, they need the villain, spooky facade.

Anywhere: Ooh, I’m seeing a vintage vibe from all of this... Back to the song. “It’s a beautiful / If you’ve been lied to” is a good callback to the whole “society is built on lies” from SvS from Jay Dee. “Let this be a call to arms / At the changing of the avante garde / Nothing in this world... is beautiful.” Is Janus a pessimist? If so, he’s a good juxtaposition to Patton, the optimist. Also, the vocals remind me of like a really old timey radio, semi-haunted... my instincts say that it feels like the singer is like Harrison Bergeron (Kurt Vonnegut; do read it; it’s a good short story) trying to tell the truth about this world that people think is a good place.

Talking at the Same Time: Someone please draw Janus as like a 1920s gentleman character swaggering... wait I can. This song reminds me of “Why don’t you do right” by Jessica Rabbit on “Who Framed Roger Rabbit.” Jazz or blues? Either one. This song is really depressing? I don’t know why, but there is that feel of everything is hopeless. Pessimistic, again. “A tiny boy... made a sword from a stick and a gun from his hand” reminds me of Roman in a way? But then again, the “we bailed out all the millionaires / they’ve got the fruit / We’ve got the rind” doesn’t remind me of Roman.

all the good girls go to hell: “MY LUCIFER IS LOOONELYY”... sorry I love this song. Anyways, the lyrics really speak to Janus just because of the whole duality and Christian metaphors. Also, J is the side who would definitely “want the Devil on her team”. We love the whole duality motif. I just *chef’s kiss x3*.

Denial: OH MY GOSH THE SVS REDUX... J was denial. HE WAS DENIAL. “Just don’t shut your eyes closed / Not until I get it off my chest” is basically the blindfold metaphor that happened throughout SvS, so would this be the message he wants to send to Thomas and Patton... or maybe the entire light sides. “Have you turned a corner? / Do you think of leaving me behind?” Dark side acceptance arc? Also, “I know you’re looking for direction... I know where you wanna go / Oh I do, but do you?” is to Roman and Thomas for the callback because he knew they wanted to go “so bad.”

(click for more analysis and summary!)

Trust in Me: Of course, snek boi, I knew this could be something you’ll put in. But do we trust you? So this is his suave villainy song. This again shows how Bananaconda child operates; he wants Thomas to trust him and be selfish but excessively. That’s why balance is necessary for all of the sides!

Razzle Dazzle: *gasp* MUSICAL SONGS NOW? YASSS. Definition is “noisy, showy, and exciting activity and display designed to attract and impress,” so the whole facade of being fancy to hide the insecurities and “bad” parts. Sounds like someone we know (*cough* ROMAN *cough*). “What if your hinges all are rusting / What if, in fact, you’re just disgusting? / Razzle dazzle ‘em and they’ll never catch wise” is just a jab and a stab at Roman. Or maybe it’s him. He’s also the dramatic one. If so, we have angst arriving.

When the Chips are Down: HADESTOWN OH MY YES! STRINGS! AAAAA! Does Janus give me Fate vibes in a way? Yes, definitely. “Nobody’s righteous / Nobody’s proud / Nobody’s innocent / Now that the chips are down” Holy CRAPP. It’s the perfect response to Patton’s “Nobody’s perfect... except for Thomas, he loves his friends!” in SvS. Now that the “chips are down,” Thomas should take after himself... after all, the Fates were telling Eurydice to look after herself. Sounds like what Janus said to Thomas after the Redux.

Mandy Goes to Med School: Oh. Um. This sounds like the whole jazz/20′s theme. This song’s apparently about abortion? I’m kinda confused, so feel free to add on! But it’s quite the bop, just listening to it. Maybe the whole thought that society makes laws based on a false conception? Help.

I Put A Spell On You: Janus definitely goes to jazz clubs. “I can’t stand it ‘cause you put me down” and “I tell ya I ain’t lyin’” and “Because you’re mine” makes the whole villainesque feel. I don’t know where this was from, but this stands out to me just because it was on the “Friends on the Other Side Mashup”. 

Evil Night Together: Ominous, and then jazzy. Jay Dee’s flirting skills go to the max. This also gives the villain vibe by the lyrics referencing things that Remus would be fond about. Also, “Who’s gonna make you a hero” seems to be directed to Roman like he did in SvS. This is a very seductive song with really dark undertones about crime. Janus, that slimy snek boi is a lawful neutral to evil. 

Dont’ Tell Mama: Cabaret... a classic musical, eh? “Hush up, don’t tell mama / Shush up, don’t tell mama” goes to Janus’ power to silence people. “If you had a secret, you bet I would keep it / I would never tell on you...” Janus is definitely the one about lies and secrets, so that goes to that.

You’re a Cad: “What’s the point pretending that you could be a better man? / Just give in, since you always end up right back where you began” “You’re a rascal and a rogue, a villain and a crook” is the other sides viewing him, and “Still I tug at your line, I’m a fish on your hook” and “I should be better, but I’m worse” is hinting at some Janus angst. I think it’s going to be something about trust

As Far as I Can See: JANUS ANGST TRUCKING IN ON TO YA: “Nobody loves me / As far as I can tell.” Or even “Nobody’s listening as far as I can tell / And when I’m crying out / Nobody cries back for me.” Haha... I’m totally fine (*sobbing*). Also, the “we’re all going down / all down the staircase aboard” either hints at the Redux statement of pushing people off staircases... or maybe Virgil who went down the staircase and left the dark sides. Gosh, I thought this was gonna be a hype song by the beat, but I stand corrected.

Criminal: Oh, so the angst continues. Great. Totally great. This somehow links back to the bloopers of Thomas, as J, saying “I’m not bad; I’m just drawn that way.” This is peak sarcasm in a way, but I don’t really know. “I’ve done wrong and I wanna suffer for my sins / I’ve come to you cause I need guidance to be true / And I just don’t know where I can begin”... is this from Thomas to Janus or the other way? If it’s from Thomas, Janus is kinda mad and is using as much sass as he wants. If it’s from Janus, it’s either he’s lying or he genuinely wants a redemption arc like Virgil did... but in a not so righteous way with “And I need to be redeemed / To the one I’ve sinned against / Because he’s all I ever knew of love.” I don’t really know, but this is such a bop.

Change: “I’ve been thinking it’s just someone else’s job to care / Who am I to sympathize when no one gives a d-” and “” Wow. Janus has his similarities with Logan. He wants to be listened to the sides. I mean, there is a reason why he impersonates the light sides: to be listened without bias. “Change is a powerful thing / I feel it coming in me” foreshadows some good stuff with Janus! YES! Also, “Maybe by the time this song is done / I’ll be able / To be honest” and the rest of the lyrics just hit me like a truck? It hurts the soul in a way. Change is inevitable is the message, so would that mean Janus could have an upgrade? I mean, the change started when SvS Redux happened with him coming out and being accepted by the light sides, so maybe, maybe things will change from there in a good way.

Devil In The Details: “A house of cards / A supple heart / Is not a place to dwell”.... Patton? Oh no. “But know there’s no backing out / This is gonna be reality / You can never dream it out” is going to his reputation and relations with the sides and Thomas? He seemed to have hesitated to say his name and let his reputation down since that would change everything that he has known over the years. Would this mean the dark and light side thing will break in later episodes? Maybe. “I put the past into the ground / I saw the future as a cloud / If there’s still time to turn around / I’m going to” is a big oof. And then... “I am the first one I deceive / If I can make myself believe / The rest is easy” comes in. Is Janus lying to himself? He’s the manifestation of deceit, but is he also doing that to himself? Or it could be to Thomas. But then again...

Come Little Children: Spooky. Nice. This feels like a lullaby. “It must be this way / To weary of life and deceptions / Rest now my children...” and then “The time’s come to play / Here in my garden of shadows” make me think that Janus thinks that this life is quite... painful. I am not too sure about this, tell me what y’all think!

Into The Unknown: Oh it’s not that one. It’s the one from Over The Garden Wall (the animation if I remember it right). I don’t know why, but I saw Come Little Children and connected that to Into the Unknown as words, so that was cool. “Dancing in a swirl / Of golden memories / The loveliest lies / Of all” refers to nostalgia. This song is about nostalgia. Wait. OH WAIT. Patton’s room is all about that... so would that mean nostalgia is also part of Jay Dee too because of the mood around it that is distorted by emotions? That’s something really cool to think about. One more: “If dreams can’t come true / Then why not pretend?” I feel like this points to Virgil in a way because his dream is complete acceptance, but Janus knows V was a dark side, so maybe he’s hinting at Virgil pretending to compensate for the fact that he is a dark side.

Summary:

Janus’ aesthetic would be a 1920-40 vintage theme with jazz on the background, strings and piano used ominous effect, and being flashy and dramatic. He wants to be listened to the other sides, so he puts up different disguises (like to Pat and Lo), which includes his villain facade he put on for the past maybe 2 or 3 years. He strongly believes that society is built on lies, and like in SvS, he doesn’t want Thomas to be disadvantaged in the said society. He loves the whole duality and juxtapositions (I mean, his name is Janus for a good reason) because he embraces them both. He jabs at several sides for them faking themselves to hide their true feelings, but then again, he might also be lying to himself. He knows that change is inevitable after the whole name reveal, and we know that his acceptance arc is going to come. It could be about trust and facing the reality... just my thoughts. In other words, this playlist gave me a bunch of reasons on why Janus is a great morally gray character.

FEEL FREE TO ADD ON! I LOVE SHARING THOUGHTS! Especially with analysis, more people means more thoughts and new ideas and theories. Thank you! 

#rambles #thoughts #thomas sanders #sanders sides #janus sanders #side tracks #analysis #reaction #it's SO GOOD #I REALLY WANT TO SEE HIM #IN 20S OUTFIT #I LOVE HIM #ASDFLKJ #seriously #where do the crew get all these music for the playlist #it fits so well #also i enjoy the little themes of the playlist #for janus #it's mostly about jazz #musicals and dramatic ones #and some outliers #but still ominous with strings #i love analysis #please add on!