#i only just managed to actually put it into words.

[canthelpit0]

Cry Baby

Pairing: Matt x crybaby!popular!reader

Wordcount : 3.3K+

Summary: you were popular. The jester of the group. But atleast it was something. Nobody knew just how much you’d been struggling, until your secrets were exposed in the school cafeteria.

Warnings: swearing, angst, crying, mentioned of depression, Matt’s PoV, sensitive!reader, mentions of SH, SH mocking, humiliation, exposing secrets, fake friends, hurt/comfort, pet names (baby), use of y/n

(A/N: I wrote this based of this song. Bcs I was listening to it and had this scenario in my head, so I wrote it down.)

You had always been a bit of a crybaby.

You’re the oldest sibling. Your mother thought she couldn’t have any children, but she had. You were a blessing to her.

So after you were born you were never put down. Someone was always with you. To keep you from crying, entertaining you. Caving to your needs.

But once you got to kindergarten, it seemed that all those times your parents hushed you and made sure you didn’t cry had bottled up.

You didn’t speak a lot. You didn’t like socializing with people. You kept to yourself and that’s how you liked it.

You had severe attachment issues to your mom though. Because of her always being with you to soothe you, her not being there seemed like a nightmare.

So when she dropped you off at kindergarden, every day, you would cry, begging your mom to stay.

Eventually you got used to it, but you quickly found a friend to cling to.

Emma, was your one and only friend. The only person you talked to.

It was pretty much the same in elementary school. You’d trod around and talk to people. You were a bubbly social kid.

But you were also easy to break.

You didn’t have a lot of friends. All friends you had were only people you’d hang around in recess.

Emma stuck with you though.

Until, middle school.

In middle school you’d, for some reason, fallen into a depressive mindset.

Emma and you were in your awkward middle school phases. And in that time she’d become really rude.

And one day during a fight she told you how much she hated listening to your sobs.

You’d been vulnerable around her. You had trusted her.

And she’d broken that trust. By telling you that every time you had seeked her comfort she actually didn’t want to give it to you.

Your heart’s too big for your body.

You two stopped talking after that day. Until four months later Emma apologized for her words. You, being an empath, excepted the apology and went back to being friends with her.

Little did she know that her words rang through your head while you cut yourself.

A few months after you became friend again, she moved. She moved out of the country. You never saw her again.

So for high school you had taken it spoon yourself to mask your depression and ‘get over yourself’.

You started to dress more basic, learning to do your make up, hair, skincare. And basically everything to hide your miserable state the best you could.

Somehow it worked.

You had good facial proportions, and just a little bit of work you looked like a basic mean girl who is full of herself. But that was exactly the point.

Somehow, once High school started, you managed to get into the clique of the popular girls.

You were always so upbeat, cheery and talkative. No one could ever guess that you’re the most depressive mother fucker in a 50 mile radius.

Though as much as you would like the power of being the leader of the group, you were not. You were more like the jester of the group than anything.

You had held your mental breakdowns to a minimum. Holding back as much as you could. You only had Few panic attacks nowadays. And if you had one in school, you always had a touch up make up bag there.

Now it was senior year. You got ready like usual, not knowing that today would alter your life and the way people perceive you.

Matt’s PoV

I watch in horror.

Y/n is one of the popular girls in our school.

I’m not too popular. But I’m well known, all due to the fact that I’m a triplet. And due to the fact that Nick and Chris are really extroverted people.

Both of them are currently not with me.

Chris is sick at home. While Nick is in the library with some of our female friends.

I sit at my table with the lacrosse team around Me.

The entire cafeteria has their eyes focused on y/n.

She was arguably the prettiest out of all the popular girls.

But right now she was crying, Biting her lip. Her head tilted forward in shame at the claims her group was throwing at her.

The leader of the popular girls, Kelly, was accusing y/n of stealing her boyfriend at first, yelling right in her face. She yelled right back at Kelly though, not scared to stand up for herself.

But Kelly being the leader of the group, all the other girls sided with her.

I never understood why people would talk, or would argue, about stuff like this in public places. It was humiliating.

I was getting second hand embarrassment just watching.

The insults were getting more and more personal by the second.

Nobody was doing anything, captivated by the scene unfolding in front of them. Some people have their phones out filming for, ..who knows what reason.

I drown out most of the insults-

“IS THAT WHY YOU FUCKING CUT YOURSELF?” Kelly yells right back in y/n’s face.

The cafeteria had already been quiet. But with those words even the quiet conversations stopped. It seemed like everyone’s attention snapped back to the scene.

It was the passerby effect in full force. No one was doing anything, too shocked. Not even the teachers that were present said anything.

It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

My ear start ringing, my eyes staying glued on y/n.

To me, it was obvious that something about y/n was off. She was polished to perfection. To a concerning degree. Nobody was that perfect.

So the revelation didn’t necessarily shock me. But the fact that Kelly was heartless enough to air y/n’s business out like that.

“I don’t.” Y/n’s words cut harshly through the quiet cafeteria. Her words are insistent like she was telling the truth.

She was a great liar, yet everyone would believe Kelly over her. Even if it was a lie.

“Oh but you do.” Kelly scoffs looking at the people y/n used to call friends. They all nod at Kelly’s statement.

“You have those scars all over your wrists.” Kelly points out nodding down to y/n’s wrists.

It’s like everyone takes a collective look down at her arms to see if something is actually there.

Me being so far away from their table I can’t see it clearly. But I really don’t want to anyway.

I watch as Y/n lets her head fall forward letting out a small laugh, shocking everyone in the cafeteria including me.

Y/n’s hands are trembling and shaking. She purses her lips looking back up at Kelly who looks at her with superiority.

Y/n picks her head back up and leans her head up to readjust her hair. Her hands ball into fists before she crosses her arms, trying to keep her composure.

Even from being a few tables away from the scene i can clearly see the tears running down her cheeks.

She huffs a laugh through a sob.

“Some friends you fucking are” she says harshly her glare focused on the girls around Kelly that she used to call friends.

The cafeteria is silent again for a moment the only thing heard being y/n’s soft sniffles

“Crybaby” one of the girls huffs under her breath, but its loud and clear in the silent cafeteria.

“Fuck you Rebecca.” I hear y/n’s voice snap at the girl. Despite crying her tone was still sharp.

“What’re you gonna do about it, gonna go home and cut yourself some more?” Another one of the girls in the group scoffs.

Y/n lets out another miserable chuckle hearing the comment.

I purse my lips remaining seated. I probably look miserable right now. I don’t want to be watching this. Hell I would like to stop this, but I can’t.

Before y/n can fire back though more and more comments from all the girls pore out. And the more: “you gonna kill yourself?” “you gonna cut yourself?” remarks they make the more humiliated y/n looks.

By the end of their relentless comments and bullying y/n is crying sobbing. And as someone with anxiety I can see the inevitable anxiety attack, in the way her entire body shakes.

With a strong “fuck you all” to her former friends y/n turns in her heels and leaves.

The cafeteria is quiet for a moment before the room breaks out in conversation, everyone gossiping about the scene they just witnessed. Debating how much of what was said was true.

I feel sick to my stomach knowing I had watched a girl just get torn down by her own, so called friends, like that, and didn’t do anything.

I mumble an excuse to my friends leaving the table. They don’t even seem to care emerged in their own conversations about the ‘gossip’.

I speed walk out of the cafeteria to find y/n.

There are only two places I can think of her being at. The girls bathroom, wich is probably not the case since she looked like she wanted to get as far away as possible,

Or her car.

She’d parked next to my van today. So I run out of the school to my car, to see hers still parked next to mine. I glance into it and she’s not in the drivers seat.

I get closer, catching my breath. I look through the window of the backseat seeing her sitting there curled up in on herself.

I knock on the car window catching her attention. Y/n’s beautiful teary eyes meet mine through the tinted glass.

She presses on a button on her car keys, the car unlocking.

Immediately I open the car door and slide in. My gaze soft as I look at the hyperventilating girl in front of me.

I close the door behind me. I gently take the car keys out of her hands. She was clinging to it like her life depended on it. I lock the car again and then lean to the front of the car and toss her keys on the drivers seat.

I turn back to y/n, she had her legs up to her chest hugging them while she continues to sob.

“Matt” she breaths out my name so tenderly.

We weren’t friends. But we shared one class in which we partnered up sometimes.

“Sh, you’re okay y/n” I breathe out. In an instant, my arms wrap around her smaller frame pulling her into me. I hug her from the side, her sobs wracking her body.

“No, no it’s not okay.” She lets out an irritated sigh, her breath hitching as a sobs Tores through her body again. “I just lost all my friends.”

I purse my lips holding her head. I cradle her into my chest. She didn’t deserve to have her stuff aired out like that, but all she was worried about was loosing her fake ass friends?

“Oh baby.” I sigh out. The nickname slips through my lips so effortlessly I didn’t even notice.

I keep her head cradled into my chest while I feel tears start to form in my own eyes.

“They ruined it.” She chokes out again, her voice shaky.

I breathe in heavily. “They ruined what?” I ask gently.

“My reputation”

I pause. My lips quiver at the sound of her cries. I try to blink away my own tears.

“That’s all you care about?” The words leave my lips before they register. I know she cares about all the things others say to her. She just seems like the type to.

“Matt, I spend so much time,” she sobs through the few words she said. Pausing to cry some more at the thought of it. “So, so much time, perfecting myself.”

I hear her pause again, and by this point I can’t hold back my own tears. I let out a soft sob crying with her as I hold her even closer to myself.

“I didn’t want anyone to know. It’s none of their business” her words are soft. But the more she talks the more quiet she gets.

In a way she was like me. Masking her sorrow like that. She always just seemed too perfect to be true.

Perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect face. Great humor, nice, kind, popular.

But nobody ever questioned it. She had everyone fooled. She was a great liar. And even though I had my suspicions she never gave me a reason to believe I was right.

I just thought I was delusional for reading into things.

But I was right.

As much as I wish I wasn’t.

“I’m so sorry.” I whisper. I try to breathe hard as to not sob like she was. I wanted to comfort her not cry with her.

She pulls away slightly. I look at her. She still has tears running down her cheeks, not looking like it’d stop soon. She looks up at me through her tear stained lashes, her mascara only slightly smudged.

Her lips quivers as I see another wave of sadness wash over her. “Why are you crying?” She asks her voice shaky. She lets out another choked sob.

Her hands cup my cheeks as we both cry looking at the other. “Please don’t cry,” the sight of my tears only seems to make her more sad.

But seeing the way she looked crying, I only wanted to cry harder.

She still looked perfect. Though her makeup was smudged slightly, her hair messy, her perfect features stained with her tears.

I gently grab her wrists slowly pulling her hands off of my face. I pull up the sleeve of her longs sleeved shirt and flip her arm to look at her wrist.

My gut clenches at the sight of the tiny white healed marks. They were barely noticeable anymore.

I had noticed them before when we had partnered up for some project. But out of respect I didn’t say anything. Besides they weren’t that bad, thin, white stripes messily across her wrist.

For all I knew it could’ve been her cat. I don’t have a cat, and neither have I seen self harm cuts before, so I wouldn’t know the difference.

I purse my lips. I let my head fall forward slightly my eyes closed. I feel sick to my stomach knowing someone as perfect as y/n was, or had been cutting herself at some point.

I hear a choked sob fall from her lips. I feel her intense stare burn through my scalp.

I pick up my head again, my eyes immediately looking to hers. She was crying again. Making me also shed a few tears again.

I bring her wrist up to my face leaving a gentle peck on it.

She watches me. The sight only making her cry more. She closes her eyes briefly.

It wasn’t like she’d expected me out of all people to shame her for her scars. But she also hadn’t expected him to just kiss them.

“You didn’t deserve that sweetheart.” I whisper under my breath. I pull her back in leaving a firm kiss on her forehead before cradling her head back into my chest.

She breaks out into sobs again her arms going under mine and hugging me tightly.

She was clinging to me tightly, her sobs wrecking her body, and also making me cry.

I gently pat down her hair,as she keeps crying, trying to soothe both of us.

“Y/n.” She pulls back slightly, her arm still wrapped around me. “Do you still..” I trail off not wanting to say it. Because if I say it, it’ll be too true.

Her lip quivers as I see her glossy eyes shed tears again. She lets out a gut wrenching sob again pressing her face into my chest again, mumbling “I’m sorry”s over and over again.

I sigh sympathetically, rubbing her scalp. I knew from experience, that after crying so much, your head would hurt so bad. And even though she was still crying I wanted to soothe her.

“Honey.” I say gently pulling her away from me. Our eyes meet briefly before she looks down in shame. I gently grab her cheek again making her look back up at me.

“Where do you cut?” I ask softly. I grimace at the words leaving my lips. I calmed down not crying anymore, but my eyes staying glassy.

Her eyebrows are scrunched together as she slightly pouts. Her eyes were still glassy, threatening to break out in sobs again.

“I don’t do it often..” she whispers under her breath, trying to over herself. Her eyes close briefly shame written all other her face.

“Where.” My tone is still low, but more firm, demanding an answer.

“My thigh.” She lets one of her Chanda fall from around me resting her hand on her very upper right thigh.

My eyes soften even further. My tears had dried in my face by now, but I felt just about ready to cry again.

I shift slightly. Her hand that had still been around me going to the bottom of my shirt and keeping a firm grip on the fabric.

I put my hand on her waist my touch featherlight, not wanting to overstep. “Is this okay?”

She purses her lips. Her eyes stay locked on mine as she tries to read what I’m trying to do. But she ultimately nods.

I put both my hands on her waist and pick her up from next to me putting her on my lap. She lets out a shaky breath her eyes going wide.

“Is this okay?” I enquirer my tone staying low.

Her bottom lip wobbles again. She closes her eyes briefly. “I don’t wanna go anything.” She breaths out her voice small and almost afraid.

My own eyes widen for a second looking back at her. I just realized how bad this looked without context. But I’m not a dick. I want to comfort her, not get in her pants.

I take my hands from her waist putting them on my thighs. Yet she doesn’t make a move off of me. Her hand stayed bunched up on my shirt.

“God, I don’t mean it like that.” I breathe out. “Just, me comforting you would be easier like this?” I says slowly.

Her gaze goes up to meet mine again, her lip quivering holding herself back from crying again.

She leans forward resting her face on my collarbone. She puts her other hand on my chest too as she starts to sob again. my right hand goes to her back rubbing it gently. While my left hand goes to her thigh massaging where her scars presumably were.

Her crying makes me tear up again. So we just cry together. My hand rubbing soothing motions into her back, and my other hand finally going up to cradle her head into me further.

I whisper encouraging words. Until eventually her cries die down, and so do mine.

She pulls back slightly, her eyes red rimmed and puffy. The tip of her nose and her cheeks red. And her lips as puffy as her eyes. She is a pretty crier, but the sight still makes me feel remorseful.

I put my hand back on her right thigh gently rubbing circles on it. My other hand going to cup her cheek. She leans into my touch relaxing more. She looked more tired than anything now.

“You can always talk to me, you know that.” I breath out, finally feeling like the lump in my throat was gone.

Her hand cups my wrist keeping my hand in her face. I start to rub her cheek gently looking at her pretty face.

“You can stay with me, Nick and Chris. Alright?” She nods slightly in answer.

I move my hand from her cheek to her hair rubbing at her scalp slightly. “You want me to take you home pretty girl?” I ask softly.

After all we were still in the school parking lot.

“Please.”

Masterlist

A/N: I actually cried writing this. the first part was actually literally me. and i also used to cry a lot, and cut, so this just made me cry while writing, bcs i relate to it so much. i love you all, stay safe & clean <3

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh

#spotify #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo angst #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #angst #sadgirl

[beejunos]

UNKNOWN TO ME AND YOU | Alastor x reader

Summary: As Alastor's shadow starts to act strangely, hidden feelings are brought to light.

This wonderful story was written from @lustylita's wonderful idea! The story is completely theirs; I just had the pleasure of putting it into words. Their original post can be found here.

Tags: Alastor x gn.reader, hidden feelings, angst

The last couple of weeks have been very strange to you. 

Well, stranger than the hotel usually was. 

Over the past few weeks, you have helped your best friend, Charlie, with her little passion project. The Hazbin Hotel - your only chance at redemption! 

While you couldn't say that you inherently believed in her dream, you would have been a poor friend if you hadn't tried to help her—emphasis on tried. Growing up within Hell's elite, where someone always handed you everything on gold platters, didn't foster any usable skills that could help run a severely understaffed hotel. The very thought of having to clean your own room had almost immobilised you.

Did you really need to vacuum the walls and the ceilings every week? How did the cleaning staff back at your parents' manor even do it? The manor was huge! 

Thankfully, you had not been forced to clean for long because shortly after Charlie had opened the hotel for business, an unwanted guest had come knocking at the door. Alastor and his somewhat reluctant companies, except for Niffty, who seemed to thrive in the chaos, quickly made themselves at home in the hotel. 

The same night they arrived, you and Vaggie had sat Charlie down in their room and begged the princess not to let the radio demon stay. After all, the tales of his deeds had even reached your family's manor in the Envy ring of Hell. But Charlie had been persistent, saying that maybe by staying in the hotel, she could change his ways. You loved your friend; you really did, but sometimes you wanted to shake some sense into her violently. 

There was nothing you could do about the radio demon and how he just took over many of the work duties you had at the hotel. Waltzing in as if he owned the hotel, he had taken one look at your work and deemed it unsatisfactory. 

"No, no, let me do it, doll!" he would say condescendingly, making rage lick up your spine, "We would want this to be done well for Charlie, now, wouldn't we?" 

You had lost count of all the times you fantasised about grabbing a chair and introducing it to his face. 

He made you feel incompetent, and worst of all, he was right. Most of the work you had done that he had redone was of better quality, more detailed, and better planned. If you had been a weaker demon, you would have given up, apologised to Charlie and gone home to your parents, but so, if the heavens would be your witnesses, you were going to crush that smug little bastard of a sinner! 

And so began your imaginary battle with Alastor about who could be the best executive producer. If you had asked Alastor, he would not have had any clues about what you were doing, only that it finally seemed like you were taking your job seriously. That said, he still did not like you. You were a spoiled little demon brat who had never worked a hard day in your life, and worst of all, you were sloppy with your work. 

But time kept ticking. The days passed, the hotel was filled with new residents, and somehow, you and Alastor were able to work together. Nevertheless, you only managed to do it by never being near each other, which worked wonderfully for you because the man could actually be quite okay when he was silent and on the other side of the room.  

You could have continued to live like this for as long as Alastor decided to live in the hotel. There was just this teeny tiny thing that perplexed you. 

Alastor's shadow liked to be around you. 

It had begun quite innocently with the shadow coming over to you one night when you were sitting in one of the armchairs by the fireplace with yesterday's newspaper in your lap since you had started to do the crossword puzzle on the back of the paper. You had been staring at the same clue for what felt like an hour, and you just couldn't figure it out. Out of nowhere, a shadowy finger had tapped on the clue to get your attention, and when you looked up, two empty holes for eyes had looked back at you with the biggest twisted grin full of teeth you had ever seen. 

"Fuck! Don't do that!" you whispered forcefully, not wanting to disturb the peace and quiet that finally had fallen over the hotel lobby. "What do you want?" 

Prepared to be bothered any second now by the radio demon, you got even more confused when the shadow started doing pantomimes. Why in the seven Hells was it swimming across the wall?

You looked on as the shadow began to swim back to you, tapped on the clue and started to swim again.

"Swimming? But it has nothing to do with activities! It is something about effort," you said as the shadow returned to you. Since it could not speak, the shadow just started to nod its head and tapped on the clue again. 

"Is it a word derived from the word swimming?" you asked hesitantly as the shadow continued to nod. 

You turned back to the clue before you—a word for no effort needed and swimming.

"Swimmingly?" you asked the shadow, who gave you an even bigger sinister smile and nodded again before it disappeared up the stairs. Again, you were left in the lobby with only the crackling fire as a company, looking over at the stairs after the strange entity that was Alastor's shadow.

The next couple of weeks just grew more and more strange with every day. Out of nowhere, Alastor's shadow started to just interact with you. It began as innocent waves to you behind Alastors back, and at first, you wouldn't wave back, but when you saw how sad the shadow got if you didn't return its greeting, you started to wave back to it. On a few occasions, Alastor had caught you in the act, which quickly prompted you to swat the air around you as if you were trying to get rid of a fly.

When the waves weren't enough for the shadow, it started to appear around you, helping you in various ways. Once, it even helped you find some important paper you needed for your job that you were convinced Alastor had hidden from you. 

It turned out that Alastor's shadow was much more pleasant company than its physical part, and you often welcomed the shadow's help with your crosswords during the evenings.

However, you were again thrown for a loop when the shadowed behaviour started to change. It began to interact with you even more, seeking you out during the day and staying for long periods at a time, just hanging around you or observing what you were doing. 

One day, it had even brought you a blueberry muffin from the bakery you liked across town. You had no idea how it had even done that. For all you knew, shadows were not physical things and could not interact with the physical world. However, you were promptly proven wrong when Alastor's shadow took your own shadow's hand and pulled you down the hallway to show you the roses that had started to bloom outside of the hotel. 

It was a paradox, a mystery that intrigued you. Alastor's shadow, a creature of darkness, was surprisingly sweet, charming, and, at times, downright romantic. How could such a lovely thing be attached to such a vile being?

It had been like any other day. Alastor's shadow had found you in your office early in the morning, going through all the paperwork that needed to get done that day. In its shadowy hand, it held one blueberry muffin and your favourite coffee mug with a sleepy bear on it, along with the text Bearly Awaken written underneath. 

The coffee had been divine because, somewhere, the shadow had learned to make a cup of coffee exactly how you wanted it.

You continued with your day in the presence of Alastor's shadow, walking together down the corridor, through the lobby, and out the front door as you chatted with the shadow. You had gotten quite good at interpreting its pantomimes and overexaggerated emotions and often found yourself laughing at any antics the shadow pulled. 

It followed you all day as you walked around the city, picking up the materials Charlie needed for her next exercise with the hotel residents. The shadow even helped you pick out the colours for the ribbons and paints. 

At one point, the shadow's long finger had brushed against yours. It had been a cold sensation, almost like being touched by mist, but that had not mattered to you as you blushed before looking away. Missing how the shadow practically folded in on itself when it saw your reaction. 

Was it possible to date a shadow and not the being it was attached to? 

The sun was setting when you and Alastor's shadow got back to the hotel. The lobby was almost empty except for Husk, who was polishing martini glasses by the bar. As soon as he saw the two of you enter the hotel, Husk leapt over the bar and rushed over to you. 

"I don't know where the fuck the two of you have been, but you need to leave now before he finds out that your back," Husk whispered to you as he gripped your arm to turn you around towards the door. 

"And you!" he said towards the shadow, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"  

The shadow made a high-pitched whine as it stepped closer to you. You were about to ask Husk what he had meant when a loud voice boomed inside the hotel.

"Where are you?"

Husk's hand tightened around your arm as he started to pull you towards the door. You followed after him, paralysed by action, as a stone of fear got stuck in your throat. The shadow looked at you, then back at the stairs and then back at you again with anxious eyes. 

Loud steps could be heard from the hallway above the staircase, and Alastor's shadow began to be dragged towards the stairs as if by an invincible force. It desperately dug its claws into the ground, and the shadow let out a wailing scream as it looked at you with big, pleading eyes. 

Alastor was calling his shadow back to him. 

The shadow continued to fight the force of its master's call, leaving deep claw marks on the floor, and, as if a gunshot had been fired at the room, the force wholly let go of the shadow. The shadow rushed back to you, where it clung to your body like a second skin. 

"Get back here, you disgraceful thing!" Alastor could be heard shouting as a massive hand gripped the hallway doorframe and pulled itself forward. It was the hand of Alastor's most demonic form. 

Beside you, Husk had begun to shake as his claws dug into your skin.

"You need to run. Now!" he tried to push you towards the door, but it was too late. From around the corner, Alastor stepped from the dark into the light, but as he stepped forward, he shrank in size. Still, he looked terrifying. 

His eyes were a deep red with volume controllers as irises, hiding any emotions he may have had. His antlers had grown in size, sharp and imposing, making the sinner look almost regal as he sauntered down the stairs. 

"Thank you, Husker." he said, his voice dripping in venom, "I can take over now." 

Husk was about to protest loudly when he disappeared in a puff of red smoke, and you were left alone with the enraged sinner. 

"What do you think you are doing?" Alastor snarled as you started to shake where you were standing. A small whine could be heard beside your neck as the shadow clung closer to you.  

"I don't know..."

"I'm not talking to you!" Alastor's look silenced you but confused you for a second before you saw his eyes drop down to your neck, where the shadow hid. 

"Come back here and stop resisting," Alastor snarled again and stepped towards you. The shadow gave away a low whine as it clung closer to your body, and you realised it didn't want to return. In a fit of temporary insanity, you placed a protective hand over the arms of the shadow around you and stepped away from the sinner.

"No!"  

"What do you mean no? It's my shadow," asked Alastor as he looked back at you in confused rage.

"He doesn't want to be with you anymore," you snapped and turned your nose up. You stepped to the side to walk around the sinner, effectively walking away with his shadow, but as you walked past Alastor, his hand shot out, and he tried to grab your arm. But you were faster; with your other hand, you slept Alastors hand away from you and the shadow.

"Will you stop it! Don't you understand that we want nothing to do with you, so just leave us alone!" 

With determined steps, you started walking over to the staircase to get as far away from the deer demon as possible. However, you didn't get far until you felt the shadow clung even more to you as it let out a pitiful sob. Its head had fallen over your shoulder as it looked up at you with longing eyes—a gaze it shouldn't be giving you since you had just saved it from its cruel master.

"What's the matter?" you asked it as you tried to caress its cheek, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw something that you never thought you would see. 

Without a smile and ears hanging low against his head, Alastor looked at you with the same miserable longing that the shadow looked at you with. And that's when you remember something your mother used to say to you when you were a child, a long time ago. 

Our deepest desires, our most precious wishes and longings, hide in our shadows. Everything we want follows us within our shadows as the weights of our souls.  

You wanted to kick yourself for being so foolish, for not understanding until now. Maybe a small part of you had always known, but it had been easy to ignore in your imaginary rivalry with the sinner. But a shadow never lies. Even the ones who can think and act on their own. They will always mirror their owner's heart's wishes and act upon them when the host won't take charge of getting what they desire. 

"You're in love with me," you whispered. It was not a question but a statement—a statement that seemed to hang in the air for an eternity but not long enough. 

“How? What? When?” you asked, desperate for answers.

Alastor walked hesitantly towards you, looked you deep into your eyes and did something you never thought he would do. He kissed your cheek. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as his warm lips softly touched your cheek, and when he pulled away, you could still feel their presence against your skin. As if you were branded by their sweet touch. 

"Come now," was the last thing he said to his shadow as he walked around you and back up the stairs. Alastor's shadow made a melancholic chirping noise before it let go of you and followed its master.

You were left alone in the big hotel lobby. Wishing that it was your lips Alastor had kissed and not your cheek.

I really hope it lived up to the expectations, but I loved writing it! It got a lot more angsty than I first intended...

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x you #x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x you #alastor x reader angst #hazbin hotel alastor x reador angst #hazbin hotel angst

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Preparations, Danny soon realized, were very much useless. He'd spend a while just watching the vigilante, recording his habits and schedule, following him around and taking note of the little details. Call him a stalker, but he was just trying to make sure Nightwing didn't end up in an early grave.

Not like him.

Any and all preparations Danny had made could not ever fully gear him up for actually talking to the only vigilante he'd ever met. Sure, he knew the guy from afar, but actually speaking to him? Looking him in the eye? Having the other look back at him and actually respond? The closest he'd ever gotten to letting the guy know he was there was when he left food out for him and made sure he had water, sometimes coffee, within reach at all times.

Now that Danny was here, standing in front of the door to Nightwing's - Richard Grayson, he'd learned on day three - apartment, he was frozen. Was he actually about to do this? Could he really risk it? What if Nightwing flipped out?

No. He couldn't think like that. Nightwing's a vigilante, a detective, and an officer of the law. He won't attack willy nilly. Besides, it was too late to turn back now. Danny knew way too much about Nightwing's life to back off now.

Not allowing himself to hesitate any longer, he reached up and pressed the doorbell. He didn't hear the sound, but shuffling from inside alerted him that the man he'd come to see was now moving towards him.

'I hope this goes well,' Danny thought. Then, the door opened. "Good, at least you're taking care of yourself and actually eating proper foods. Now, I'm here to discuss your extracurriculars and how to time manage them properly without running yourself into the ground." He didn't mean to enter the apartment uninvited, but he didn't want to risk Nightwing closing the door on him or something. "I've brought my own board with an ideal itinerary that I expect you to follow." He turned to look at the man. "Any questions?"

Nightwing rook a second to process the words. Then, he said, "Yeah, just one: Who the fuck are you, kid?"

Well, he was in this deep, might as well dig himself a deeper grave. "I would say I'm your new legal guardian, but you're older than me and I can't exactly adopt a fully grown adult." Right? Yeah. Danny sat down stiffly, his bag on the floor and leaning against his leg. He pulled out the binder he'd cleared out and dedicated to helping the older vigilante and put it on the table. "I could say that you're my new legal guardian, but we run into a similar problem." Kind of. Being dead is a legal barrier, so adoption's off the table. Transferred custody on the other hand? Well, he's got that taken care of. Though, he had to wonder, "Could you adopt me?" No, he couldn't think of a way that would work. "No matter."

Nightwing, still standing by the open door, shook his head a bit as if to clear his mind. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

Introductions? Yikes. "I'm Danny! Nice to meet you!" He had no idea how he's not completely bombed this yet, but he wasn't going to complain.

Nightwing didn't move from the door, let alone shake his hand. Danny put it back on his lap. "Likewise, I guess."

"What, no name?" Was that pushing it?

"I'm optimistic, not an idiot." Yeah, he'd towed the line a bit.

Shrugging to try and rid himself of the nervous butterflies in his stomach, Danny opened the binder to the front page. It was mostly so he'd have something to do with his hands, but it proved to be a decent distraction for Nightwing, too. Though, he pushed down a blush when he saw the glittery blue writing. It was the only other pen he had on him and he'd stolen it from Jazz.

The distraction didn't last. "How did you find this place?" Nightwing asked, the door still wide open.

"Doesn't matter." He didn't think the vigilante would take kindly to being stalked followed around the subject of a kid's curiosity.

Nightwing very much did not seem to believe him. "Why do you think I have a day job and a night job?"

Did he- Oh. The man was probably holding out some kind of hope that Danny wasn't saying what he was saying. Oops. Should he apologise? "I'm a realist, not an idiot."

Throwing the words back at him was probably not the best decision. Then, again, Danny hadn't made a whole lot of good decisions since he'd stepped foot in Bludhaven. At least here, there was a chance he could get away with it, relatively scot free. Imagine if he were in Gotham? With how violent Batman got recently? No thank you. He'd rather take his chances with his parents.

Danny did his best to not clear his throat as he flipped to the next page. "First thing's first. Why do you do what you do? Why go out at night to fight crime when, I assume, that's what your day job is for? Why hurt yourself to help other people?"

Those were all questions he'd had to ask himself before the portal destabilized. Why did he do what he does? Why risk himself to help the people who'd never thank him for his help? Why put his life on hold to do the job of adults?

He'd thought he'd had solid answers for them back then, but he wasn't so sure anymore. Regardless, this was a good place as any to start helping Nightwing.

If he could help just this one person, he'd be satisfied.

Part 3

Tag List: @flame-343

#part 4 #danny phantom #dick grayson #dc #dp x dc #dp dc crossover #dcxdp #dcu #danny needs help #dick needs help #danny needs a hug #dick needs a hug #being a vigilante is hard #danny's a hypocrite #reverse adoption #work life balance #but it's being explained by a hypocrite 7 years younger than him #danny is going to make sure dick takes care of himself #is it really adoption if the kid shows up one day and just doesn't leave? #death is a legal barrier #danny's pov from part 1

[jongseongsnudes]

kiss me (part three)

bff/fwb!jake. 1.4k words. ✨️smut✨️ + angst ft. lee heeseung. (part one) (part two)

“you’re so hot,” you hear him mumble into the kiss, his lips barely leaving yours as he does. his hands are everywhere, your waist, your ass, your thighs. the man was desperate for you and to be fair, you wanted him too. 

what started as a few flirty kisses with heeseung and a childish way to show jake that you in fact did not need him, turned into a full fledged heated make out session in the back of the cab, all the way into your apartment. it was the last thing you wanted yet all you wanted at the same time. someone to distract you from a particular someone else.

you were too occupied with heeseung’s lips to notice the familiar pair of men’s shoes by your door once you enter your home, ones that were surely not there when you left.

jake sim was in your apartment.

“hey- h- heeseung,” you manage to get his attention, your hand now gently pushing against his chest, “i um- i remember i had some plans tonight actually... rain check?”

you can see the disappointment wash over his face for a split second before smiling again, an understanding smile. and this was one of the many things you’ve always liked about him lee heeseung. that he respected you.

“yeah of course love,” he says while rubbing your lower back, “you need me to drop you off anywhere? it’s getting pretty late.”

“no my friend will pick me up. sorry hee, another time?”

“definitely,” he leans in to kiss you, short and sweet, “be careful okay.”

you begin to second guess your decision to abruptly kick heeseung out but the last thing you wanted was to be in the middle of a confrontation between the two best friends right now. besides, you needed to deal with jake. the thought of him currently somewhere in your apartment got you mad, especially after the fight you had earlier.

the house is quiet, the only light source coming from your living room’s television screen, exactly where you expected him to be with a bottle of alcohol in his hand. you can feel your chest heave to the sight of a topless jake, it took almost everything in you not to pull your panties aside and climb on that lap.

the things you’d do for jake sim...

“seriously? you’re just going to break into my apartment?”

your words are left unanswered as the man continues watching the screen ahead as if you weren’t standing right in front of him.

“whatever then. at least close the door on your way out when you get bored.”

you leave him be, no longer wanting to deal with the toxic situation that shouldn’t have been a situation in the first place. 

bits and pieces of your clothing and accessories are scattered behind as you make it to the bathroom, wanting nothing more than to sink into a warm bath and relax for the night. but of course the world always seems to have other plans for you.

“didn’t think you had it in you.”

sigh.

you don’t bother turning around to his newly arrived presence at the bathroom doorway, instead opting to continue slipping out of your undergarments as if he wasn’t even there, “i don’t want to talk to you right now jake.”

“so you let heeseung put his tongue down your throat but can’t even talk to me?”

you were quick to whip around this time, a frown dawning your face at how ridiculous he was being. the audacity this man had to even speak to you that way, in your home after ignoring you just a moment before.

“excuse me?” you were on the brink of exploding now, your hand balled up and ready to throw him out if you had to, “you broke into my house for what? to say these things to me?”

“well i’m not wrong! why bother fucking with me then go straight to heeseung?” he was now right up against you, his much taller frame towering over yours, gradually cornering you in against the vanity, “he’s my fucking best friend!”

you’ve seen jake angry numerous times before but never have you seen him like this. he is evidently fuming with eyes so dark, even his breathing was ragged.

“so that’s your problem? so you’re saying that i can fuck anyone else besides your best friend? easy. i’m sure sunghoon or jay would be down if i was to call them right now.”

if jake was considered stubborn, well, you were even worse. between you and the man, you were the one who always got your way. to be fair he did have a soft spot for you and you’ve used this to your advantage... when necessary. 

the bathroom then goes eerily quiet, the two of you though still visibly angry, are now much calmer than before. the heavy tension that filled the air just a moment before was now slowly turning into a different kind of tension.

the one you always felt when you both wanted each other.

“i’m tired jake... please just go-”

he leans in without hesitation, kissing you hard and cutting off your words. he even cups your cheeks, angling your face up to him so he can deepen the kiss and you let him. by now you weren’t even fighting him anymore, your entire body melting right into his hold.

as always.

you did’t want to admit it but this kiss with jake sim was the one you’ve been yearning for all night, even when kissing someone else.

you were just crazy for him.

“it’s not them, it’s you...” he whispers, his voice barely audible as he pulls away slightly, “you’re my problem.”

“what- what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t want to see you with anyone else.”

before you could even respond, jake slowly moves down your body, his lips leaving behind a trail of soft kisses on your skin. you almost scream when he reaches your panties, the man’s mouth just hovering over it for a few moments. just to drive you insane.

“you’re perfect you know?” he coos, his hands now grasping onto your waist as yours grab onto the vanity for support.

“you say that sim... but then turn around and say the same to other girls...”

“they’re nothing baby. i’ve always wanted you.”

your breath hitches when he yanks your panties aside and lifts one of your legs over his shoulders, his lips immediately pressing onto your clit without warning, eager to have you. his wet tongue laps at your heat, tasting every part of you, causing your knees to almost buckle at the intense pleasure your whole body immediately feels from it.

you watch him through hooded eyes, the view of jake sim kneeling before you, one that always pushed you over the edge, that had you seeing white. that had you going completely feral.

but despite the moment, with his tongue deep in your folds and with your fingers knotted in his hair, you just couldn’t forget all that happened tonight.

what should’ve been a strictly no strings attached situation had become something it shouldn’t have. it all somehow spiralled out of control so quickly, like the flame in your heart that grew to the point of no return for the man.

and from what you’ve learned from romance movies your whole life... this was not going to end well. especially for you.

“ja- jake...” you barely manage to push him back by the shoulders, stopping the man from doing what those lips were literally born to do. he looks at you with concern as he stands to his feet, arms immediately holding your sides to pull you closer.

“what’s wrong baby?” 

you may regret this later but you knew it was the right thing to do... before you fall even further.

“i don’t want to do this anymore jake. lets... stop.”

end(????)

2024 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

#jongseongsnudes #enhypen #enhypen drabble #enhypen fic #enhypen fanfic #enhypen scenario #enhypen imagine #enhypen reaction #enhypen smut #enha #enhypen x reader #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jake #enhypen hard hours #enhypen scenarios #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun smut #sim jaeyun fanfic #sim jaeyun fic #sim jaeyun scenario #sim jaeyun imagine #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun hard hours #jake sim smut #jake sim fanfic #jake sim fic #jake sim imagine #jake sim scenario #jake sim x reader #jake smut

[envysparkler]

“Cass is the favorite.”

Bruce paused in the hallway, head tilted in the direction of the kitchen.  He wasn’t aware that anyone was still up.

“Definitely.”

Bruce was aware that Tim had coordinated tonight’s patrol as Damian was sick with the flu and Bruce was laid up with a couple of injuries—they must’ve just gotten back.

“She can read everything on his face and he never has to say a word—the old man must’ve been thrilled when he found her.”

Bruce frowned.  His plan to return to his bedroom was put on hold as he lurked in the shadow of the den, listening carefully.

“And…Dick is the next favorite.”

“Of course, he’s the Golden Boy.  Follows orders like the perfect soldier.”  There was a dark twist of bitterness to the words.

“Tim’s next.”

“No, it’s definitely Babs.  She’s actually good at her job.”

“Nah, I have to go with Steph.  Babs calls B out on his bullshit.  You, baby bird, melt into the shadows and don’t make a peep.”

“Tim, then Babs.”  When he heard the scratching of pencil on paper, Bruce realized they were actually writing this down.

“Then the demon brat.”

“Depending on what kind of scene he’s caused in the past week.”  A laugh, low and not very amused.

“Then me and Jason.  The outsiders.  Last on the list.”

A scoff.  “No, Blondie, then you.  I’m not on this fucking list.”

“Jason—”

“We’re ranking his kids remember?  Not the vaguely estranged undead mob boss that comes to bail your asses out of trouble.”

“You’re his son, Jason.”  Bruce was gripping the door frame so hard his dislocated shoulder twinged.

“All evidence says otherwise.”

“Well, I’m not his kid either.  So I guess both me and Jason are off this list.”

“You’re his kid, Blondie.  You have a room in this house.”

“I don’t use it.”

“Neither does little Red, and he’s the one running the company.”

“You have a room here too, Jason.”

“No, I have a fucking shrine to the fifteen-year-old kid who was murdered in Ethiopia.”

It landed flat and whatever camaraderie had been underneath the bitterness and snark dissipated instantly.  It left a heavy tension in the air.

“I don’t want it anyway.  Look what happens to the poor bastards at the top of the list.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cass—dear, darling, favorite Cass.  She disappears whenever anyone is talking to B.  Probably too painful to watch.”

“I hadn’t noticed that.”  Quiet.  Guilty.

“And the Golden Boy.  Trying to hold the family together while everybody in it tears it apart.  Timbo here, who’s hoping that if he slinks further into the shadows everyone might actually forget he exists.”

“Hey, I don’t—”

“Babs is stuck working for a boss who constantly undermines her, the demon brat doesn’t know if he should be listening to Dick or Bruce, and you, Blondie, for the great honor of being last on the list, are the only one of us that actually managed to slap B.”

#my snippets #batfam angst #bruce tries to be a good parent #he's not very good at it

[killerlookz]

Growing Pains | Spencer Reid

pairing: s2!spencer reid x gn! reader

description: after spending what felt like an eternity pining over Spencer Reid, the two of you finally began moving towards becoming something... until his run-in with Tobias Hankel seemed to put a stop to every aspect of Spencer's life, even his relationship with you.

details: Spencer's post-revelations related trauma, angst! and fluff (hurt with comfort), sporadic flashbacks

word count: 2,321

i hate that i can't love you, but I'm just in the way / but you say i won't be here forever, and you'll take as long as it takes

Your cold hands ached as they struggled to make a fist, raising that balled-up hand to the dark, wooded door.

Every day for the last week and a half you'd come to this very door, that of your friend, Spencer Reid. And every day for the last week and a half you would knock on the door and hope with anxious breaths for an answer. Only to receive no response.

Part of you would worry he was dead if it wasn't for the fact that at the very least he had managed to at least call out of work each and every day. It was so typical of Spencer ,it almost made you smile. Even after all of the trauma he had just gone through, he still made sure to call out of work. No one expected to see him back at the BAU for a while. Not after Tobias Hankel.

Despite all too much of it having been live-streamed directly to you and the rest of the BAU, you knew very little of what had actually happened to Spencer in the time he had been taken by Tobias Hankel, nobody did. And the truth is, you barely knew of what was live-streamed. Maybe it made you "weak" in comparison to the rest of the team, but you just couldn't bear to look at Spencer in that state. The anxiety of not knowing whether or not Spencer was going to live was already too much to handle- even now, knowing he was safe, you still had trouble sleeping, the scenario of having not made it in time playing through your mind over and over again.

Knock, knock, knock

You held your breath in anticipation as your hands hit the door, you bit your lip in a painful desperation. Please, Spencer. You beg, your voice cracking as you whisper to yourself.

No response.

It wasn't like Spencer to not talk to you, especially not for days on end. The two of you had been friends since the academy. You were instantly drawn to him, maybe it was his impressive memory, or how passionate he was about his work, maybe it was his awkward boyish charm, or his sweet smile, or how his eyes lit up when he won a game of chess or cards, and the way he scrunched his nose whenever he laughed, maybe it was the way his sweaters never fit just right, and his socks never matched, or-

It was more than sufficient to say that you had fallen head over heels for Spencer, more than you had for anyone else in your life, you were in love. He was kind, and inviting, and you could never understand why everyone else seemed to make fun of him. And finally after what felt like an eternity of pining, and planning for the perfect moment- a french film marathon at Spencer's apartment and a few too many glasses of cheap wine was what let your feelings slip. You could still feel the way your stomach dropped as the words left your tongue,

"You know I love you, Spence"

"Yeah- like- as a friend." He stuttered, obviously caught off guard

You could have saved yourself then, played it cool, and said yes, but before you could stop yourself your head was shaking no.

Spencer's eyes widened and the corners of his mouth curled into a sheepish smile, "Really?" He looks down at his lap, his fingers rapidly tapping against his knee, "I- wow- I-" He shakes his head and looks back at you, "I love you too."

With a few blinks you find yourself back in reality. You could only live in memories for so long. You sighed, as tears welled up in your eyes. Part of you wondered if you were being selfish, crying about how you missed him when he was going through so much worse.

You wiped your stinging eyes, fuck it. You needed to know how he was doing. You reach into the pocket of your coat, feeling around before gripping the cool metal of your key ring. You pull it out of your pocket before gripping the keys that hung from it tightly in your hands. The dull metal pressed into the skin of your hands, and your cold, stiff fingers gripped harder to the point where it hurt. You closed your eyes, wincing as you tightened your fist around the metal even harder, trying to convince yourself to go through with your plan. At some point of you and Spencer "going steady" you had exchanged keys to each other's apartments.

You released the key ring from your grip, a red indent left in the palm of your aching hand. You sift through the various keys and with a loud jingling sound, the other keys fell to the bottom of the ring as you gripped the key to Spencer's apartment between your thumb and index finger. You sigh once more, telling yourself the worst that could happen is if he really doesn't want to see you he will tell you to leave and you will listen.

You push the key into the lock and twist it until you can turn the door handle. The door opens with a creak, and you step into the dark apartment, careful to close the door softly behind you. You can barely see two feet in front of you, all the lights are off and the blinds are drawn. Your hand slides up a wall as you fumble around for a light switch, flicking on the soft, warm wall light next to the door. You blink a few times, getting used to the light before your gaze darts over to the kitchen table. The apartment was almost unrecognizable. It was cluttered to a degree that you had never seen from Spencer before. He was usually so well organized. But now, papers, takeout containers, and half-drunken cups of coffee were scattered around the dark wooden surface.

It broke your heart to see Spencer's living spaces in such disarray, if this is what his apartment looked like, you couldn't even bear to think about what you might find if you were to peek inside his mind. Even with the lights now on, the dark green walls of the apartment never felt this dark to you.

You tread softly toward his bedroom, careful not to make too much noise against the creaky wood of his apartment floor. Part of you was aware of how creepy this seemed- and you worried maybe you'd scare Spencer by entering his room. Still- maybe it was selfish, but you missed him too much to allow another day go by without seeing him. Allowing Spencer to just stay holed up in his apartment for days on end was not going to do anything for anyone.

You press your hand against Spencer's bedroom door, it's opened just a crack and you're able to push the door open with a small creak. The room isn't as dark as the rest of his apartment, a few small beams of light from the setting sun peek into the small room from blinds that haven't been fully closed, drenching it with a warm orange color.

Spener's clothes are scattered throughout the room, and his brown leather bag had been thrown on the ground near the door, papers and books spilling out of it. You could almost guarantee it had been in that spot from the moment he got home from that dreaded case.

Your eyes flick up to the bed in the middle of the room where Spencer lay, his face down, stuffed into the pillows. His comforter had been kicked to the side, and the fitted sheet had come off one of the corners of the mattress.

You wondered just how much Spencer had actually left his bed since he had gotten home, the takeout containers and coffee cups in the dining room signified to you at least he did at some point leave his bedroom. Still, the sorry state of everything made you want to cry. How could anyone do this to him?

You slip off your shoes, and inch across the soft carpet closer to the bed, careful not to step on any of the clothes that were strewn about the floor.

"Spencer," You say, just above a whisper, attempting to let him know of your presence. He barely even stirs in response to the noise, turning onto his side deep in sleep.

As you got closer to the bed you could see him more clearly. His hair was a mess, long curly strands stuck to his cheeks with sweat, his eyes shut tight and his mouth almost turned down into a frown. Even in sleep, he looked so upset, so tortured. It made you sick to your stomach to even think about what he could have been dreaming about.

"Spencer?" You say again, weaker this time- your voice trembling with nerves.

No response.

You sigh, pulling off your jacket and allowing it to collect on the floor with the rest of the scattered clothes. You sit down on the edge of the bed and think carefully about your next move. You don't want to frighten him, but it may be impossible not to not after you basically broke in.

You reach a delicate hand outward and move a couple pieces of Spencer's hair from his cheek. His head moves slightly in response, but you continue to smooth your hand down the rest of the length of his hair. You can tell it's tangled, even without combing your fingers through it. You let your hand fall further, down his neck, resting on his bare back. He's warm to the touch as you rub soft circles on the exposed skin.

"Spencer?" You say again, louder this time leaning your body towards him.

His eyes flick open and he's jolted awake, swatting your arm away as a gasp leaves his mouth.

"H-hey," You grab his arm to prevent him from swinging any further, "It's just me Spence."

He stares at you wide-eyed, pupils dilated with a mix of confusion and fear. His throat rises with a thick swallow and his lip trembles. You begin speaking frantically,

"I-I'm so sorry I didn't mean to fright-"

"W-what are you doing here?" He asks, his voice is weak but there's a pointedness to his question.

"I just- I wanted to make sure you were okay- I haven't heard from you in a while and I was so worried about you I just-" Your brain was going a mile a minute before all of a sudden... your train of thought disappears as you look into Spencer's obviously pained eyes. His eyes blink rapidly as he attempts to hold back tears. The sheets have fallen off of him and his bare chest is shiny with sweat as it rises and falls rapidly. You let go of his arm, letting it drop down beside him. "I'm sorry," You whisper, too saddened at the state of him to continue.

Spencer stares at you for another moment before looking down, a single tear dripping down his pale cheek. Even now, like this he was still beautiful to you. And despite everything you couldn't help but for your heart to fill with love. But as your heart felt with love, the rest of your body overflowed with anxiety as you contemplated what to even do or say next. You stutter,

"D-do you want me to leave-"

"No." Spencer cuts you off. "Stay." He looks back up at you, "Please." His eyes are wet with tears that threaten to escape down his face.

"Of course," You nod, "of course," softer this time.

"Can we lay down?" Spencer asks, twisting his face. You nod fervently, swinging your legs onto the bed. You pat the pillow next to you, beckoning Spencer to lie back down. He does so, slowly, and you follow, your faces inches from each other, heads on the same pillow.

You inch yourself closer to Spencer, heat radiating off of his trembling body. You place a hand upon his cheek, stroking your thumb slowly back and forth.

"Am I ever going to be okay?" Spencer sniffles. The question feels like a knife had been stabbed right through your heart.

"Of course you will, Spence, " You assure, soft yet firm.

"It doesn't feel like it," He shakes his head, forcing your hand to fall from its spot on his cheek.

"These things take time, lots and lots of time."

"Yeah but-" He starts, getting choked up again, "What if you don't want to wait for me?"

"Wait for you?" You ask, confused as to what he meant.

"If I'm like this for too long." He answers, "You won't want to be around anymore."

"Oh Spencer," you shake your head, "No, no" You put your hand back onto his cheek.

"I feel like such a burden- that's why I haven't called," His voice breaks as he starts crying, really crying this time, "I mean- I'm an FBI agent, I should be able to get through this. Everyone else on the team would be back to work in an instant. And I can't even get out of bed."

"Spencer." You cut off his ramblings, "You are not a burden- you could have died, Spencer, no one is expecting you to be alright."

"I feel like I should be." He pauses, "I just don't want everyone to sit around worrying about me, I don't want you to sit around worrying about me. It's not fair."

"I worry because I care." You relay a small smile, "Because I love you."

"And that's what I'm afraid of, one day you'll realize you've spent so much effort worrying about me that you won't want to love me anymore."

"Never." You wipe the tears from Spencer's eyes, trying to give him gentle reassurance. "I'd wait forever for you to be okay."

a/n: woah long time no post? I haven't posted a fic on here in almost two years! sorry I'm a little rusty, I've been deeeep in a creative rut. I'm accepting requests now however, Ive missed you guys!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

[wixenburr]

Saw some ppl talking about Reverse Robins and i had thoughts

Talking abt u guys @eldritchdreamss @brucewaynehater101

Why kill Tim when you could kill baby Jason? What I want is for all of them to keep their own backstories and personalities (Developed in line with the story of course) So ofc i had to write a 1,000 word brainrot abt it.

(Also i'll only be going over the main 4 batbros for now i will add more later but these guys are the ones im most passionate about so here we go)

Damian

Let Damian come in, desperate to be of use and be worthy of his father, only for a softer, less jaded bruce (since jason hasnt died yet) to help him open up his heart and let him act as a kid. With no competition for so long, I imagine he and Bruce get along very well while he works with him. Yeah, they need to work on the no killing deal and Damian's... i guess impulse control? But i think it would be easier with very intensely focused reparenting; no distractions of other kids you know? No favoring or anything.

I see Damian growing up as a stoic, jaded adult. He's had a rough life. Maybe he sticks with the vigilante business. but I really love headcanons where he gets out of it, and focuses on something calmer, like his art. (I do appreciate and love the veterinarian Damian AUs, but im going for FULL calmness, you know? And doctor/vet work is Not calm lol)

So yeah, maybe he grows a real passion for heroism, maybe he doesn't? Maybe he goes on to be an artist and that's just what he does. Bro is ready to settle down as a scarred, veteran trophy husband and i adore him for that.

(Sorry lol i just love Damian and i love the idea of him growing out of both of his parent's legacies. Let him live his own life!!! He fights so so hard for at least 15 years. ALL 15 years of his life. He deserves to have some peace.)

Tim

Tim i think would need a much different story to join the Batfam. He still starts out as a stalker who follows batman and. . . . . . . Redimar (meaning Redemption iykyk (I just spend 17min researching names rip)) at night, takes photos, etc... Since Damian doesn't die, maybe he finds Tim? and like, tim is like 11 and Damian is 17 or 18. He's started going out as Redimar less and less, not that B really minds? In fact hes probably happy for his son so...

But then Damian finds Tim, and now he has to keep going out because he can't let this kid get himself killed like this. He would hold himself accountable since hes the only reason Tim keeps going out so much- also i imagine Tim follows Redimar more than Batman.

Cue a classic Tim Joining The Batfam plotline. They get to know each other better, get a grasp on Tim's situation, Damian finally introduces Tim to Bruce... (Probably something like Dami: "Father, this is my new brother. Timothy, say hello to Father," Tim: "Hello, Father," Dami: "Perfect." Bruce: "*falls off the batchair*)

Anyway, so, Tim ends up kinda just merging with the Waynes. They start training him, its all good and nice, and Tim makes his own little hero team unlike Damian, which is actually pretty interesting here; its Tim who made the first young hero team. Damian only ever had Jon (Superboy 1 in this!!) and he finds Young Just Us and becomes a great leader and its all fine and dandy.

Tim and Damian get along well. Damian is the sage older brother whos kinda distant, but only because he has such high emotional walls (but secretly a softy). He is very much like Bruce- nope, nevermind, hes definitely worse than Bruce in this AU, since Bruce is depicted as being much more agreeable before Jason's death, you know? So yeah, Damian is the emotionally constipated bitch in the fam and we love him for that. But hey!! Tim does manage to get through his walls! And Bruce does sometimes too!! (Tho i imagine Bruce and Damian's relationship to be very.. idk let me try to expalain. Dami: "Father." Bruce: "Son :)" Dami: "Tt." Bruce: *nods* "Hrn." Dami: "Hmph." Bruce: "Hm.") DO U PICK UP WHAT IM PUTTING DOWN--- lmfao. They hardly need words.

Tim ends up growing up very very capable. Once his parents die, he gets a little jaded, but hes still Tim. He and Damian become kind of an... ice prince duo? If you get what I mean. But Tim is the one whos actually the ice prince, Damian is secretly a HUGE softie. He is Delicate and Tim protects him lmfao.

Jason

Jason comes along like he does in canon. Has the same backstory. Tries to steal the Batmobile's wheels. Tim is sleeping over at Damian's flat for the night, so its just Bruce. They bond. Shit happens. Jason joins the fam.

I don't imagine them not getting along, but they don't immediately hit it off either. Jason is wary of all of them for a time, but he ends up warming up to Damian pretty fast after realizing what a softie he is. He pokes fun at Damian and Damian just freaking takes it lmao. Hes an adult he cannot be disturbed. Bro has seen too much and he finds Jason adorable. (Dami: "You were never this cute, Timothy." <- he is lying. Tim: *offended* "What the fu- flip!?" Jason: "Lmao Tim just say fuck." Dami: *deadpan stare* Tim: "JASON NO DONT SAY THE FUCK WORD-") ahem.

anywho and then Jason dies rip skill issue ratio.

The whole batfam is heartbroken. Genuinely shattered. Jason was a light in their lives. Not that they were WITHOUT any light, but Jason was the epitome of a sunshine child.

It's been too long since Damian has killed someone. Bro's god oodles and oodles of trauma. He can't bring himself to kill the Joker.

but Tim can.

It's a whole dramatic thing; Damian feels awful that he made his- now only- little brother kill. Bruce is hella upset but feels responsible for not seeing how badly both of his kids were handling the death of their brother. Tim goes a little off the deep end.

Things turn out.... okay. sort of. but not really. Tim changes his hero name to Red Cardinal. He feels pretty lost. Maybe he stumbles into Ra's al Ghul or smthn idk maybe smthn happens there perhaps. Maybe Damian has to put on Redimar again and rescue him? But its less of a rescue and more of a "Stop joining the dark side Tim jesus christ-" (and it does work).

They go home. Tim gets a boyfriend or two. Damian falls into his art. Bruce is throwing himself into work. They're all kind of a mess, but they keep moving.

and then

Dick

(lmao that sounded wrong)

ahem; and then the circus comes to town. The batfam- well, Tim, Damian, and Bruce- all decide to get together to do something fun. Take the opportunities given, yk? So they go to the circus together.

Wham bam rip the falling Flying Graysons.

They see Dick, breaking apart, and they know they have to do something. Bruce is the first to move. Then Tim. Damian is the last.

It's pretty quick getting Dick home, since Bruce is already a foster parent cuz of Tim yk. So Dick doesn't have to suffer in Juvie at all really. But that doesn't change the fact that he is ANGRY.

Dick is SO angry. he wants to kill the person who murdered his parents. He knows what he saw.

The fam of course do their best to investigate. Mostly Tim, who feels unworthy of being around an innocent little kid after his whole.... villain era, i suppose lol. (ofc Dick thinks Tim doesnt like him lol misunderstanding arc GO)

The whole "Dick accepts that justice is better than murder kinda maybe FOR NOW" storyline happens, and Dick becomes the conniving, bright, little Robin we all know and love. (Thinking of the Young Justice Cartoon Robin (but not the characters- just Dick's character) aaaand

Womp womp GUESS WHOS BACK

Jason's Back

but i'll leave that for later.

#my writing #personal #batfam #reverse robins #batman #damian wayne #jason todd #tim drake #bruce wayne #dick grayson #batbros #batkids #batfam fanfic

[storiesforallfandoms]

the ice cream girl ~ mike schmidt;five nights at freddy's

word count: 2144

request?: no

description: in which his regular ice cream spot in the mall hires a new girl

pairing: mike schmidt x female!reader

warnings: use of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

Mike's routine at the mall was a constant: clock in, do two laps around the mall, go for lunch with whoever else was on with him - usually Jeremiah - another few laps around the mall where he'd stop to talk to some of the store managers, then clock out and go home. The only deviations to his routine were the occasional birthday parties he'd be tasked with watching over, and whenever there was someone who needed to be handled by security.

Until he met a new worker at the mall.

He was in line for the ice cream place he would occasionally go to for a dessert after his lunch. They saw him so frequently that his order was usually ready before he even got to the counter - another usual in his routine.

But on this day, when he walked up to the counter, a new face was smiling at him.

"Welcome to Ice Cream Parties," she said. "What can I get for you?"

Mike opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Cindy, one of the usual workers, saying, "We have his order, (Y/N). He's a regular."

(Y/N)'s eyes flickered to Mike's security uniform. "Well, that does make sense. Sorry, today's my first day."

"No, that's alright," Mike said. He desperately tried to think of something else to say, but found himself staring blankly at her instead. He was sure she thought he was crazy, and that thought made his face start to heat up.

Cindy came up to the counter with Mike's usual in hand. She passed it over to him with a smile before going back to work. Mike realized then that he hadn't paid yet. As he started taking his wallet from his pocket, (Y/N) said, "On the house."

"Are you sure?" Mike asked.

She nodded. "Consider it a kind gesture for a regular."

"Well...thanks."

"No problem. It's nice to meet you, Mike."

He was about to ask how she knew his name, but she nodded to his name tag before he could.

Right, that would make sense.

"Nice to meet you, too, (Y/N)."

After that, visits to Ice Cream Parties became part of Mike's routine. The first few visits were under the guise of actually getting ice cream for himself and Jeremiah. If it wasn't too busy, he was able to have brief conversations with (Y/N) while his order was being made. That excuse didn't last very long, though, as eventually Jeremiah put an end to the almost daily ice cream runs.

"Man, I'm going to gain like 10 pounds a week if you keep getting ice cream for us," he had said.

Mike had to admit, he was getting sick of eating ice cream so much, too. Seeing (Y/N) so often had made it worth it at first, but there was only so much of the frozen treat he could take before it became too much. He thought he'd have to come up with a new excuse to see her all the time, but she took him by surprise by doing it for him.

He was doing his rounds during a shift when he saw (Y/N) walking towards him. She had a smile on her face and she waved when he spotted her.

"Hey!" she said. "I've been looking for you?"

"You have?" Mike asked.

"Yeah! I haven't seen you in a bit. I was worried you quit or something."

"God, no, that's not happening. This is probably the easiest job I could have. I've just...been taking a break from ice cream."

"I don't blame you. You've had so much of it lately, I'm surprised you're not just a walking ice cream cone at this point." She playfully bumped his shoulder as she added, "You know, if you wanted to talk to me, you didn't need an excuse."

Mike was shocked into silence. Had it really been that obvious? He had tried to play it cool when he went, but maybe he hadn't been cool enough. Maybe it had been glaringly obvious every time he walked up to the counter and ordered whatever new flavor she recommended that he was desperately trying to figure out a way to ask her on a date.

But then she smiled and laughed, and Mike felt a weight being lifted from his chest.

"I'm joking," she said. "Mostly. If you wanna talk to me, you don't need to come buy ice cream. Just come talk to me."

"Noted," Mike said with a nod. "Well...what are you doing this evening?"

"I'm working the closing shift."

Mike tried not to let his disappointment show. "Oh. I, uh, I'm off in about an hour."

"I clock in in about an hour."

"Not meant to be, I guess."

(Y/N) shrugged. "I guess not. I have to run a quick errand before work, but I mean what I said - don't be a stranger, Mike."

Mike nodded. Once (Y/N) had turned and walked away, he let himself deflate. It wasn't a "no" because she wasn't interested, but it was still disheartening. It was definitely going to take time to build up his courage to ask her again, but at least now he knew she welcomed his company.

A week or so later, Mike found himself at the mall again on his day off. He usually hated to be there when he wasn't working, but Abby started school the next week and she needed new clothes. She had been begging him for weeks to take her shopping, but he kept putting it off until he had no choice but to take her. On the plus side, Abby was extremely easy to shop with because she knew what she wanted, and she knew where to get it. It would be a quick in and out and he could be away from the mall within an hour and a half tops.

But, after leaving Abby's favorite store with the intent on going home, Abby stopped Mike and said, "I'm hungry."

"We have food at home," he reminded her.

"I don't want actual food. I want a snack."

"We have snacks at home."

"We don't have ice cream at home."

That was enough to shut him up and get him to agree. He had no idea if (Y/N) was working that day, but he wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to see her.

As luck would have it, she was working. She was at the counter in her stripped apron and white paper hat. She was passing the customer in front of them an ice cream, her customer service smile plastered on her face. Mike had come to learn the difference between her customer service smile and her real smile, because when she would look at him the dull smile would brighten just a little.

When the customer stepped away, he got to see her face light up at the sight of him.

"Oh, hey Mike!" she said. "I thought you were off today."

"I am. I had to take my sister back to school shopping," Mike said, gesturing to Abby.

(Y/N) looked down at Abby and offered her a warm smile. "Well hey there. I had no idea Mike had a sister."

"This is Abby. Abby, this is (Y/N)."

"It's nice to meet you, Abby."

"You too," Abby said. To Mike she added, "Is she the one you always talk to Max about?"

Mike's ears were on fire as (Y/N) looked back up at him. Abby always knew how to say the right things to embarrass him.

"Just tell her what you want," he muttered, suddenly no longer in the mood for ice cream.

Abby ordered for herself and (Y/N) went to make it. Cindy took over at the cash while (Y/N) stepped away, which disappointed Mike. Usually Cindy was the one making the orders while (Y/N) was at the cash, and they'd have their small conversations while Mike waited. He really hoped what Abby had said hadn't scared (Y/N) off completely.

She came back and handed Abby her ice cream.

"Are you guys sticking around much longer?" she asked Mike.

"We weren't really planning on it. Abby just wanted ice cream before we went home."

"I'm off in, like, 10 minutes. If you guys don't mind a third, I mean."

Mike agreed without consulting Abby. Not like the younger girl really cared either way. She was already deep into her ice cream and ignoring the whole conversation.

Mike and Abby sat at a nearby table to wait for (Y/N). Abby finished her ice cream in record time, giving herself a brain freeze. Mike couldn't help but laugh as his sister scrunched up her face in pain.

"That's why you don't eat cold foods that fast," he said.

"Do you like (Y/N)?" Abby asked through the brain freeze pain.

The quick change in topic startled Mike. "I mean...yeah. She's my friend."

"But you like her," Abby said. "You always talk about her, and I saw the way you look at her."

Mike shrugged, trying not to give Abby any other ideas. He didn't need her blurting something else out and embarrassing him again. "She's a friend, Abby. Friends talk about friends."

"Friends don't look at other friends like they want to kiss them, though."

Mike chuckled. "Some do."

Abby gave him a look. He sighed and said, "Maybe I do, but that doesn't give you permission to say stuff to her about it, okay? For now, we're just friends."

"You should ask her out. I think she'd say yes."

"It's not that easy, Abs."

"What's not that easy?"

Mike jumped at the sound of (Y/N)'s voice behind him. When he looked at her, she was already changed out of her work uniform. "Nothing. Abby and I were just talking."

He shot Abby a look to tell her not to say anything. (Y/N) looked between the two of them with a skeptical look on her face.

"Do you have a ride home?" Mike asked.

"If you're offering, then yes. I was supposed to wait around for my roommate to get me, but I'd much rather hang out with you guys and get out of here."

The three of them walked to Mike's car. Abby filled most of the silence by talking to (Y/N) about whatever came to her little mind. (Y/N) just smiled and responded as Abby spoke. Mike would sneak glances at her and smile to himself.

Abby got into the car first, and as Mike was reaching for the door handle to get in himself, (Y/N) said, "Wait."

He paused and looked up at her, confused.

"Why haven't you asked me out yet, Mike?"

The question took him completely by surprise, but that seemed to be her specialty at this point. He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was some stuttered nonsense.

"I mean, if you don't like me then that's fine, I get it," she continued. "But I thought that maybe we had a connection, and I keep thinking you're going to ask me out and then you don't, and I'll be honest, I'm losing my mind a little bit."

"Whoa, whoa," Mike said. "Slow down. I'm sorry that's how you're feeling, but I've been trying to ask you out. I did ask you out a few weeks ago!"

"That wasn't asking me out! You asked what I was doing and I said working. You didn't even follow up to try and figure out a different day we could've went out instead!"

"I didn't know I was supposed to do that!"

They both paused and, after a moment, they started to laugh.

"I'm clueless with this stuff," Mike admitted. "I haven't dated since high school."

"Well, here's a tip: if you like a girl, ask her out. Her liking you back is more likely than you'd think."

Mike smiled. "Do you want to come over for dinner? I'm sure it's not exactly the date you're thinking of, but Abby wants spaghetti and meatballs tonight, and I do make a mean spaghetti and meatballs."

(Y/N) smiled back. It was brighter than her real smile. It was what Mike decided to dub her "Mike smile".

"I'd love to," she said. "I love spaghetti and meatballs."

Abby opened her car door then and looked between the two of them. "What's taking you so long?"

"Hey Abs, would it be okay if (Y/N) joined us for dinner?" Mike asked, although he already knew the answer.

Abby lit up with excitement and vigorously nodded her head. Mike and (Y/N) finally got into the car and they made their way back to Mike's place. The entire car ride he couldn't wipe the smile from his face.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson imagine #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf imagine #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[chilschuck]

woahhhh you should totally write about chilchuck dealing with a reader whos obsessed with bugs and keeps annoying him with them ahahaaaa twirls my hair

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ HERE IT IS. FINALLY. i know you wanted me to reply to the other ask for this but i thought having this one would make more sense. happy i could finally get this out for you!!

— CHILCHUCK: x gn!reader who likes bugs hcs.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ ment of bugs & insects!! reader is really into entomology. sfw + sweet n’ fluffy!

꒰ wc: ꒱ 575

✦ sorry this isn’t super long, i’m in the middle of finals week so i’m struggling creatively rn. :”))) i can write more for you after this is over fr!!

✦ You decided to venture down to the beginning levels of the dungeon for one reason only: entomology research. The dungeon, rich with all kinds of monsters, had attracted you to its depths for a chance to discover more than you could just on the surface.

✦ Meeting Chilchuck was an added perk. Coming across Laios’ party at the upper levels was the best thing that could’ve happened to you at that moment. Now you had a party to explore with, and even a half-foot to aggravate.

✦ And oh, how easy it was to irritate him. You’d scoop up anything that you’d find and immediately show it off to him. At first, he’d give you an unamused look and tell you to cut it out, afraid just what you’d picked up this time.

✦ Except when you started telling him about it. You’d find a treasure insect or point out a cleaner at work, giving him all the facts you knew. Occasionally he’d actually listen to you talk, finding it almost… relaxing?

✦ It wasn’t that he was completely uninterested, but you had started to grow on him the more you shared what you knew. Hearing you speak about the insects you have on the surface and how you cared for them definitely made him curious. He never knew so much time and dedication went into stuff like that.

“Look at this one, Chilchuck!” In your hand was an insect you had come across on the floor your party decided to rest on. With excited eyes, you began pointing out all the parts, their functions, and even what purpose they served in the dungeon.

For some reason, Chilchuck found that sparkle in your eye when you chattered away to be… endearing, almost. He couldn’t help but feel the corners of his mouth tug into a smile, encouraging you to keep going. After all, this was what you were passionate about. Unlike Laios’ obsession with monsters, your knowledge didn’t make you seem sick in the head; it made you unique.

✦ Chilchuck soon would find himself pointing things out to you and asking questions of his own. Maybe about what that particular insect was, what it did, maybe if it was rare or not. And more than happily, you answered him in kind.

✦ Even if you drove him crazy sometimes with shoving something in his face, he found that your presence was comforting. Having someone else here besides Laios (or even Senshi) that knew about some of the dungeon’s creatures was nice. You two would even entertain each other by sharing things you knew about insects on the surface or in the dungeon. (Not that he knew much...)

✦ Sometimes he’d even have you talk to him at night while the rest of the party got ready for bed. It wasn’t that your words put him to sleep, it was more that your voice had begun to bring him comfort. Chilchuck could feel his eyes growing heavy when you told him about some of the insects you liked on the surface, and soon enough you had managed to lull him to sleep with just the sound of your voice.

✦ Eventually you’d probably be able to get him to actually hold something. Maybe he’d see that look in your eyes again and swallow down his pride, holding out his hands to whatever you found this time. That happy look on your face made it all worth it.

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿 #TW bugs #TW insects #i really hope this is okay WAUGHGJ #i know you waited a while and i want it to be worth it #short but sweet and i’ll def do more for you <333 #we’re discord moots after all LOL #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader #dunmeshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi x reader

[generalsdiary]

what if ratio breaks down and falls apart?

Dr. Ratio (x Aventurine at the end)

warnings: mental breakdown

word count: 1.9k

a/n: lots of ppl seemed to like this idea so here it is, not beta read, ffs come home aventurine

description: Dr. Ratio breaks down (angst), Aventurine mentioned/shows up at one point (fluff dare I say)

his hands shook immensely with the keys in his hand, the heavy doors open and close. he can feel it. he can no longer hold on. being a victim of routine, he manages to push on just a few moments longer, to put away his bag, lock the door, and take off his shoes. few steps through the hallway and it is over. his body trembling as his chest swells up with pain and sadness, so many emotions mixed up in one. filling up in his throat like a peach pit, choking him and making it harder to breathe. he falls to his knees, his breathing heavy, rapid, and irregular. in moments like these, he knows how to take care of himself, how to help himself, how to fix this. but it is too much. he can't. he also... why does everyone get to break down but not him? he can barely breathe in and breathe out, as many thoughts fill his mind.

eyes filling with hot tears except he cannot cry that much, he has always been incapable of actually crying and letting it all out.

like a water dam overflowing and drowning him along with it. the dam filling with water and using it in useful ways until the workers don’t show up, the tools get clogged, old, and broken. the dam overflows. nature always comes back to take its due, to pick up the price, especially human nature.

he isn't enough. he will never be enough. it is a fool's job, what he is trying to achieve. how could he ever spread knowledge everywhere, making it available to everyone? how is that being realistic? hopeful fool, he knows better than to hope. an idiot. a failure. why did he even think he could be capable of doing that? the aeons were right to not recognize him, he isn't worth their attention- he keeps failing. isn't it the definition of insanity to keep doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome? not enough. never enough. such expectations were put on him and he jumped to fulfill them- and when he didn't achieve the last one- to become a true genius, then he failed. failed the mold he was put in. failed the beliefs of everyone around him and their expectations. they were all wrong; everyone who said he could do something, become someone relevant, someone who matters and makes a significant change. and the things he did, well they were never perfect and always could have been done much better. for fuck's sake he fails his students, just how many get the actual knowledge, and how many give up? he isn't good enough, he should be better, and get the knowledge across in a way everyone would accept and know and learn. why is he not good enough? he keeps trying and it is never enough. not once has the universe said, ‘okay, you have done enough, you can rest now.’

why does he keep trying? and he is alone in all of it. who is there who cares for him- who puts his view of self aside, who can.. please.. who can please view him as a human.. a person.. just... as someone who doesn't need to be extraordinary- can he be loved in such a way, appreciated? who would care for him? when all that is said about him is that he is rude, when he only tells the truth and tries to help, he is told that he is insensitive, egotistical, and he is so far from it. why does everybody hate him? aeons, he hates himself. why was he born, created like this? it would've been so much easier to have been born an idiot, dumb, to work a normal job, and be happy.

he stares at an empty spot as these thoughts overtake him, and then he sobs as the next ones come... he wants to be held, oh so much. to be embraced, to be cared for, thought of in a positive way, for his name to be called with love. no one is enough, he isn't enough.

his thoughts keep spiraling in a whirlpool, almost like he is frozen in space. eyes fixed, hands shaking and the occasional warm tear falling down his cheeks, which are now red and hot.

his skin feels like it is burning, the clothes on him overwhelming him but he cannot move, it hurts, it all hurts. why does it hurt so much? this vicious cycle never ends. how could he stand up again when he is falling apart at the seams? is he worth it at all, the life he lives, if he cannot even help himself? he will never be enough. he wants to shout, to yell in frustration and anger- all swallowed in his throat while he continues to sit.. broken on the floor.

his thoughts become more incoherent, how could he.. why.. help.. not enough.. and so on. curses, hatred directed at himself, sorrow, and pity. his ears deaf at any sound, he is so lost in his mind, it is like he isn't even there.

this isn't the first time, but it was never this hard. he picked himself up before; standing, going automatically around his home to take care of his basic needs. but now he has no hope, no care for it, he cannot move. immobile and lost, so… so deep in this vortex.

the doors open and close. there's a voice, he doesn't even register it, “..tas?... home?”

the person makes a few more steps and sees Veritas, sitting on the ground. Veritas manages to register distant footsteps, rushed- it doesn't matter; he isn't even there. only his body is.

the person sits down in front of Veritas and hands him a glass of water. his eyes are unfocused, he appears still, hands on the floor with a slight tremor, cheeks shiny from the tears and a warm red color. instinctively he accepts the glass and drinks the water. the cool fluid makes him consciously blink and float back to the present moment. he registers the voice of the person in front of him.

“Veritas.. I'm here, good- the water is good for you- I'm here, alright?” his eyes focus on the blond man sitting in front of him. Aventurine's eyes are filled with worry and his hands cup Veritas' face, caressing slowly. his voice is calm, “you will be fine- I got you, okay?” Aventurine nods to himself more than to Ratio. his hand moves to the indigo hair, pulling his fingers through the soft locks in a comforting manner. Veritas' eyes are trained on him, full of pain and heartbreak, yet his face is neutral, so hurt.

“your head got to you again? I keep telling you- don't listen to it- it isn't right it only says mean things which aren't true. do you hear me?” the only thing he gets in response is a slow blink from the taller man. and it is enough.

“it tipped over, it isn't as bad as your head claims- don't listen to it, listen to me, focus on me. I’ve got you, I'm here-“ he pulls Veritas into his chest, cradling him in a way. “-and I'm not going anywhere”

fresh tears soak Aventurine's shirt. it hurts to be cared for, to be seen, and for that person to stay and not leave.. it feels undeserving and it just makes him cry harder. he sobs into Aventurine's shoulder, breaking down fully. his voice comes out high-pitched, breaking, “I... I.. it is so hard-” he sobs harder and tightly embraces Aventurine.

“I'm here, you will be okay, this will pass, I have you, don't- don't struggle against them, focus on me, please?” Aventurine pulls away to raise Veritas' chin and meet his eyes, those sunset eyes filled with tears. and he weakly nods.

“focus on me, my voice, Doc, focus on my voice. and I'm warm- you can feel it yes? my chest is warm and my hands- my scent- you can smell the perfume right? focus on me, ground with me. leave that dreadful place- it never did you any good.” he continues using safe words, repeating them, and when Veritas manages to get a grasp on reality once more; he feels empty, numb and Aventurine takes care of him. Aventurine helps him eat a proper meal, bathes with him where he holds him close against his chest, kissing his temple, and repeating that everything will be okay.

Aventurine holds him tightly in bed and whispers only the softest affirmations. before Veritas falls asleep, Aventurine mumbles kind words with his fingers in his hair.

he stays mostly awake that night, just in case Ratio wakes up in distress or from a nightmare. he doesn't mind it. he cares for him, if needed he'd pick his pieces up every day and help him put himself back together. Veritas is his, and he will always be there for him.

the morning turns out to be a slow one. Veritas would tiredly gaze at Aventurine, the blond man asleep into the late morning, and he wouldn't dare start his day- not yet, not now, not without him. Veritas' thoughts are slow this early in the day, they are quiet. he simply observes the younger man. finding some type of solace in it. he doesn't dare touch him as if the beautiful man was a statue made of glass and might break from a single touch.

when his eyes do open he hums and moves to press his face into Veritas' soft chest.

like it is the first time, Ratio is surprised, frozen for a few moments before he relaxes and embraces Aventurine.

“sleep well?”

he nods.

“I rescheduled my stuff, and I hope you will yours too-“, Veritas interrupts him, “..I did.” his voice quiet, monotone.

“today.. today will be easier, okay?” he raises his head, looking up. “I will be with you as long as you need and then some. please be kind to yourself. you need it” he whispers the last sentence and presses his lips into Ratio's cheek.

“I'll try... thank you.. for.. yesterday, dear gambler”

Aventurine nods, “I love you,” he says, easily, as if he didn't have to think those words through before he said them but it conveyed everything he wanted them to say. that he would be there for him, that he'd take care of him, that he would be his.

slight shock is obvious in Veritas’ eyes, that he would be loved gives him a stutter in his response. he feels so vulnerable, bare and naked in front of him. his emotions nude especially after being seen in the state he was in yesterday and despite that... or perhaps specifically because of it... Aventurine said that. with fear, felt on both sides, but also assurance that this is right, that it is a fact he softly says, “I... I love you too.”

beat. both staring into the other's eyes. Veritas cups his cheek. thumb drawing small circles, voice but a whisper, “please don't ever leave me” in that moment he is baren, vulnerable, his cards are on the table for the gambler to gamble off or hold tightly to his chest and fold.

Aventurine answers quickly with a small nervous smile, “the same goes for you too, Doc”

with all those emotions being so loud and scary, Veritas cannot keep up a coy act and even when he does Aventurine sees right through him.

“I promise” Veritas utters and seals it with a soft kiss.

#honkai star rail #dr ratio #hsr #dr ratio angst #analysis #dr ratio fluff #aventurine #aventurine x dr ratio #veritas ratio #aventio #raturine #ratiorine #comfort #veritas ratio angst

[deconstructthesoup]

So, this is inspired by @tai-janai's new Slay the Poet AU, where LQ has to rescue the Narrator and is being guided by Shifty. I saw their idea post, and my brain demanded that I put my own spin on it, so... yeah. Go check out their AU, though, it's probably gonna be better than mine and it actually has drawings.

I've already typed out the overarching plot (tldr, Shifty's the player and LQ is the "guide," and Narry is a professor who's trapped in a library in an abandoned city), but here's what I think the Narrator's chapter 2 vessels would be like:

The Wizard: You get the Wizard if you don't go into the library's basement with the knife, you make the decision to free the Professor, and you resist when the Guide makes the desperate choice to take over your body (while repeatedly apologizing over and over in your mind). The Wizard is unflinchingly kind and has that classic Disney-fairytale whimsy about him, and will always encourage you no matter what you do---and is the only one who undoubtedly means you no harm. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Apprentice, who believes that the Professor is a learned and wise soul who can teach us everything, and we must listen to him.

The Warlock: You get the Warlock if you don't go into the library's basement with the knife, make him think you're going to free him, and kill him---either via getting the knife or letting the Guide take you over and winning the ensuing struggle. The Warlock is a slightly draconic being who is devious and cunning, but very clearly bitter towards you, and there's no doubt that he's thirsting for revenge. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Charming, who uses flattery and deceit to get her way, and encourages you to do the same to the Professor---after all, we did it once, and we can do it again, can't we?

The Creation: You get the Creation if you immediately kill the Professor, attempt to leave and fail (which causes the Guide to panic, saying that this wasn't how it was supposed to happen and he doesn't know what's wrong), and kill yourself once you see no other way out. The Creation is a stitched-up, reanimated corpse who somehow managed to bring himself back, and he's a lonely soul who just wants you to set him free. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Restless, who's a listless and tired individual who's aching for things to change... and whether or not we choose to help the Professor or not is entirely up to us.

The Scientist: You get the Scientist if you go into the basement---either armed or unarmed---talk with him, and decide to just leave him there... except, if you do, he'll figure a way out, and he'll electrocute you with a single touch. The Scientist is every bit the sadistic mad genius, and while he knows full well that he needs you in order to get out, he sees no problem with torturing you if that's what it takes---and he's incredibly transparent about his desire to end you once he's finally free. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Doll, who claims that she's not scared and that everything is fine, but is very bad at lying and is clearly shaken by everything the Professor does.

The Academic: You get the Academic if you go down into the basement with the knife, talk with him, attempt to kill him... and when he fights back, you submit. The Academic is self-absorbed, condescending, and controlling, believing himself to be superior to you in every way---and he soon proves that he's not just some entitled asshole, as he's able to take control of you with his words alone. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Humbled, who is openly terrified of the Professor and sees no problem with just doing what he says.

The Archivist: You get the Archivist if you go down into the basement with the knife, decide to free him instead, and resist when the Guide takes you over. The Archivist, who is free from his chains but is unable to escape without your help, has nothing better to do other than to reorganize and catalog the books in the library, and has become incredibly cynical and emotionless as a result. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Curious, who constantly asks questions and wants to look further into random things---something that at first seems irritating, but you eventually realize just how helpful she can be...

The Doctor: You get the Doctor if you go down into the basement with the knife, talk with him, attempt to kill him, and fight him until neither of you can fight anymore. The Doctor openly hates you and sees you as his only obstacle, and will engage you in combat whether you want to or not---and once you fight back, you discover that no matter how brutally you fight, he knows just how to set his organs back to normal, and he knows just how to wreck yours. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Hateful, who wants nothing more than to crush the Professor to a pulp and make him suffer.

The Dragon: You get the Dragon if you go down into the basement without the knife, decide to free him, and don't resist when the Guide takes you over---though you do let the Professor win, in the end. The Dragon is the most beastlike and inhuman of the vessels, and all he wants is to devour you so that he may escape. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Warrior, and she knows exactly how to fight him so that you can make it out of there alive... but be sure to listen to her, because ignoring her warnings could end very badly.

The Inventor: You get the Inventor if you either kill him immediately and check to see if he's dead, or if you question for one second whether or not he's armed... either way, you soon discover that you've brought a knife to a gunfight. The Inventor is cheerful yet murderous, and has several contraptions up his sleeves that are designed to end you---in all sorts of fun and exciting ways. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Prepared, who's quick on her feet and can easily improvise ways to evade the Professor's onslaughts.

The Substitute: You get the Substitute if you avoid going to the library entirely, and instead choose to wander the city---resulting in the city reverting entirely to libraries. Because of this, the Substitute starts off as nothing more than a blank slate of a man, and gets more and more jumbled and confused the more you attempt to talk to him. The voice you gain in your head is the Voice of the Rebel, who doesn't really have a goal other than to just goof off and have fun---making choices for choice's sake.

And, uh... that's what I got!

#i couldn't NOT name one of the vessels “the archivist” #still unsure of how he got his “reflecting what you think of him” quality when he's still his very human self #maybe he got infected with some of shifty's nature? idk #slay the princess #slay the professor au #stp the narrator #the shifting mound

[rhapsodynew]

Little-known facts about the cult rock band – part one.

Led Zeppelin – founded in England in 1968, the band was almost doomed to success because its founder, guitarist Jimmy Page, and his buddy, bassist and keyboardist John Paul Jones, were already experienced session musicians. Adding a vocalist Robert Plant and the drummer John Bonham – both young but well versed in their shared local music scene – complemented the band perfectly.

An international sensation of the 1970s, Led Zeppelin remains one of the most successful and legendary bands in rock history, breaking records with their rousing live performances, diverse genre catalog, and refusal to play by the rules. Some of their songs, including the iconic "Stairway to Heaven" and "Whole Lotta Love", became classics of the time and genre.

However, over the years, the band's touring exploits – in particular, frequent fun with female fans, the destruction of hotel rooms and reckless use of substances and alcohol – have become a cautionary tale about the dark side of rock and fame in general. It may look colorful and interesting, but in fact the career of the Zeppelins was extremely dark and tragic... 

Below are some of the most unique and little-known facts.

Robert Plant plays the harmonica

Robert Plant was afraid of the stage – at first

While this may seem shocking, given that Robert Plant is now widely known as one of the most iconic rock frontmen of all time, the lion-maned singer once suffered from self-confidence issues. Plant was still literally a teenager (namely, he was 20 years old) when Led Zeppelin first hit the road in 1968, and the shouts of the crowd, as well as harsh media reviews, were initially unbearable for him...

At the beginning of their journey, critics were not kind to the Zeppelins, and Plant, being the face and voice of the group, often bore the brunt of their insults. Some accused Robert of affectation, others of "excessive femininity.".. The cruel words deeply hurt Plant, who was already prone to self-doubt.

Later, the group manager Peter Grant admitted that he had to hide bad reviews from Plant in every possible way, and even comfort the anxious vocalist just to bring him on stage. It was for this reason that Robert also hesitated to write lyrics, which is why many considered him the weak link of the group (again, at the initial stages).

John Paul Jones miraculously did not die in the fire.

John Paul Jones

During a tour of America in 1973, Led Zeppelin threw a party in New Orleans, Louisiana. The group stayed at a hotel in the French Quarter, known for its vibrant nightlife... And that night the bass player John Paul Jones will never forget!

The story goes how John met a certain Stephanie, and invited the girl to his room. The problem came up soon, and it was that Stephanie was actually a man! However, John later claimed that he knew this, and that Stephanie was his good friend, with whom they drank and had fun. In any case, it's not about what gender Stephanie was, and who she was to John. After entering the room, the two had a few drinks and smoked. They were so drunk that they forgot to put out their cigarette butts, and just fell asleep. Soon a fire broke out in the room, and John and his friend miraculously survived – they were found unconscious when the firefighters arrived! It was this incident that Robert Plant immortalized in the song "Royal Orleans".

"Everything is in perfect order on Bourbon Street –You can meet my friends, they hang out there all night long..."

The band was robbed during a US tour.

Led Zeppelin. Early 70s

On July 29, 1973 – the last night of the American tour – Led Zeppelin became the victim of a strange crime. The story goes that tour manager Richard Cole opened the band's safe while at the hotel and found it empty!

"I opened this thing, and there's nothing there–it's empty! Only passports! I burst out swearing because nothing else came to mind at that moment..."

To understand the full range of Cole's emotions, it's worth emphasizing that there were more than $200,000 in the safe– a significant portion of their income from the tour. Not wanting to disturb the band before they went on stage, Cole proceeded to resolve the issue as confidentially as possible. While the Zeppelins were performing, the FBI guys searched the hotel. There were no signs of forced entry on the safe, indicating that whoever stole the money had used the key. Cole was the first to come under suspicion, and he even had to undergo a lie detector test (which, by the way, did not reveal a lie in his words).

After the show, the FBI also questioned the band members, but found no leads. The next day, the robbery made national news. Although the crime remains unsolved to this day, many believe that Peter Grant is responsible for the theft.

John Bonham struggled with depression.

Despite the fact that he looked brave and fearless on stage, the drummer John Bonham had great difficulties on the road. A family man at heart, Bonham, known to his bandmates as Bonzo, often missed his wife and two young children who stayed in England when he toured. At the beginning of his career with Led Zeppelin, he started drinking a lot to fight his depression and homesickness, which most often led only to chaos...

A friendly and gentle man when sober, Bonham was prone to anger, recklessness and outbursts of rage when intoxicated. He often took out his alcohol-induced rage on hotel rooms and anyone unlucky enough to be near him at the time of his rampage. Over the years, this behavior earned him the nickname "The Beast".

"Bonzo drank because he hated being away from home, it's true. Between performances, it was difficult for him to cope with emotions ...", – said John Paul Jones.

John Bonham

The tour also aggravated Bonzo's mental state. He began to be afraid of flights, and also suffered from constant panic attacks before performing. One day he confessed to a journalist:

"Every year it gets worse for me. I have terribly bad nerves all the time... It's even worse at festivals."

Zeppelin concerts have become dangerous.

As their popularity grew, Led Zeppelin began to give larger-scale concerts, which led to new problems. On July 5, 1971, the band performed in front of a boisterous crowd of about 15,000 people at the stadium Velodromo Vigorelli in Milan, Italy. The promoters begged the band to ask the public to stop lighting the fire, which frontman Robert Plant repeatedly did, but to no avail. The situation escalated, and hundreds of police used tear gas, water cannons and batons to subdue the crowd. Many were injured.

Led Zeppelin

Disoriented by the blinding smoke, panicked onlookers rushed onto the stage, causing the band to drop their gear in the middle of the performance and flee. In the confusion, one of the Zeppelin roadies was hit on the head with a broken bottle and was hospitalized. Page later recalled:

"It was absolutely terrible..."

And this was just the first of many dangerous performances by the Zeppelins. During the band's 1977 American tour, fans without tickets burst through the gates at several concerts, leading to hundreds of arrests. That same year, violent riots broke out in Tampa, Florida, among a crowd of 70,000 when the show was interrupted due to rain, leaving the police outnumbered and powerless. Then, during a concert in Cincinnati, Ohio, a fan fell from an upper floor. It was the last concert in his life...

The extension follows....

#not made-up stories #led zeppelin #robert plant #jimmy page #john paul jones #john bonham #hard rock #folk music #music story #hustory music #music #my music #music love #musica #history music #rock music #rock #rock photography #stadium rock #music youtube #video youtube #heavy metal #Youtube

[secsicornerwriter]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Title: Morning Sex with Ghost

Tags: morning sex, size kink, overstimulation

Words: 700

Warning: English is not my first language. Not beta read. I do not own these characters, only the ones I create. Please, do not repost my work to other sites and don't add your own writing ideas to my post.

Notes: if you liked what you read, I'd very much appreciate a like or a reblog or even better: both. Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy the reading!

If you want to suggest ideas you think I should write about, prompt me one in the ask section. But remember to read my pinned post first: I always update it with new information regarding this blog.

Also, I tend to put myself down a lot regarding my writing, so, as desperate and/or pathetic as it may sound: any words of encouragement or actions (likes, reblogs, nice comments, etc...) would truly mean a lot to me... Thank you in advance! 🖤

You're a nervous sleeper. The type of nervous sleeper that tends to almost fall off the bed every single night you and Simon – on those rare occasions he manages to come back home to you – sleep in the same bed—his bulk occupying more than half of the space on the king sized bed.

So, it's only natural for Simon to lock his big and veiny forearm around your waist and bring your body closer to his until your back is practically plastered on his front. Then, satisfied with the new arrangement and knowing you're finally safe from accidental injuries, he leaves a kiss on your temple or your hair and goes back to sleep.

You never actually wake up during the night when he does this. You never wake up when you know he's right next to you, but, in the morning, when you finally notice what he did to keep you safe, you cutely roll yourself around his tight embrace. After a lot of sweet talk to convince him to loosen up his grip on you – he actually growled into your ear, disappointed – he probably takes pity on you and decides to let you free from his vice-like hold.

So, you start kissing him. Of course.

You kiss him on the cheek first—as if to thank him. And that alone gets you another growl, a pleased one this time, from the big man laying next to you. The sounds he's making are so throaty and primal, that you get surprised every single time you hear them. You can't help but keep kissing his warm and exposed skin; a need to devour him that's just as strong as the heat pooling in your center.

His neck, his huge pecs – you like to bite those, just around the areola – his relaxed but still bulky biceps, his torso. You keep going like this for a couple of minutes, taking your time with each kiss and bite—until you see the peak of a smile at the corner of his lips.

Like the apex predator that he is, in the blink of an eye, he grabs you by the back of your head and pulls you into a real kiss. Morning breath and all. His chipped lips clash with your softer ones. He's devouring you, not letting you catch your breath.

Next thing you know, you're naked, and he's on top of you, slapping his thick, hard cock on your puffy, hot lips and clit. He looks down, where your genitals are touching, and you can clearly hear his throat emit a guttural sound. He nudges his forehead into the space between your neck and shoulder, only to mumble with a low and drowsy voice:

"Already so wet for me in the morning… Sweet."

And then, without any other warning beside his slick tip rubbing into your entrace, he swiftly buries his large member inside of your heat. Your erratic breath is captured by his mouth, and he kisses and fucks you at the same time, keeping a steady and hard rhythm—just the one he knows you like best after not seeing each other for such a long time.

You come louder than usual, without even needing to touch your clit. Once, twice, three times—until you're so tired your eyelids start to lower and then snap open, only to go down a second time. At one point, your arms and thighs aren't able to hold onto his back muscles anymore, and you just… let go: floating into the pleasure, like a free fall. That's how safe you feel with him. He could do anything he wanted to your body, because you know – just like you know that the sky is blue – that he will always take your pleasure into account first and foremost. Because, that's just how he is, how he has always been with you—from day one.

You fall asleep in his arms, again. He's keeping you in his possessive embrace while still fucking you, as if hearing your soft, tired moans and your walls tightening around his cock were his only reason to live another day. As if loving you and your body were his duty.

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #writers on tumblr #simon riley x you #simon x y/n #x y/n #y/n #fanfiction #mine #do not repost to other sites #do not add your writing ideas #my edit

[t1oui]

@jegulus-microfic | april 25th | headlights | 1,222 words | cw: mentions of a car accident, hospitals, mentions of smoking (nothing graphic)

Regulus tries so hard to think that Sirius is an idiot. That bloody thing'll kill you, he remembers saying. Sirius had only laughed. No one's laughing now.

It was just a Friday night. Regulus got home from work late and was looking forward to doing nothing until Monday morning. Was looking forward to being alone, sitting around with popcorn and staring at the telly until he fell asleep. Now, the idea of a simple night in feels light years away.

He never gets what he wants.

Sitting on a stiff white chair outside Sirius's room at St. Mungo's, Regulus's leg bounces up and down at a frantic pace, mind racing. Didn't he see the headlights? Didn't he try and stop? It wasn't his fault, they said. Regulus's older brother is in a hospital bed and he wants to strangle the idiot who put him there.

Remus is sitting across from him, eyes red-rimmed and body curled in around himself. He arrived before Regulus. Pettigrew was pacing until Remus yelled at him and he mumbled something about getting a coffee.

It feels like hours before Potter arrives. Regulus and Remus are only taking up two of maybe eight seats crowded into the hallway, but James sits right next to him. He's crying, too busy looking at his phone to pay Regulus any mind beside him.

"Why are you here?" Regulus grumbles. He sounds like shit. The corridor is far too bright for someone who wants to crawl into a hole and never come out. James glances up at him, looking confused and distressed and tired. God, Regulus is so fucking tired.

"My best friend is... he's...." James gestures helplessly to the room behind them. They're not whispering, but their voices are hoarse. Remus isn't paying attention anyway - he's been staring into space for hours now. "He's in there."

"No," Regulus says, shaking his head in frustration. He hates when people don't understand him. "Why are you... here. There's so many seats."

James stares at him for a moment. He still holds his phone in his lap - if Regulus looks closely, he can see the name Lily written across the top of the screen with a pink flower beside it. James opens his mouth to speak, but Regulus interrupts him, pointing to the phone.

"That's a hibiscus flower, you know."

"What?" James doesn't sound like he's actually processing anything Regulus is saying. Regulus presses his finger next to Lily's contact name. He remembers her from school. He never liked her much.

"The flower here," he says. "It's not a lily. It's a hibiscus."

James sniffles, shrugging helplessly. "There's no lily emoji," he says. "This one's good enough."

Regulus doesn't say that he thinks that's sort of stupid. He's too tired to, and he knows James doesn't really care. Who does?

"I don't want to be lonely," James tells him. Regulus stares at his ear.

"What?"

"You asked," James says, shrugging again. He shrugs a lot. "Why I sat next to you."

Regulus looks up, glances over to Remus. He's managed to gather all of his limbs up onto the small hospital chair and is staring into space, eyes glazed over, arms wrapped around his knees. "Why didn't you sit next to him?"

James's answer comes so quiet that he has to lean closer to hear. "I'd still be alone."

Regulus stares at him. "Oh." He wonders where Pettigrew's gotten off to. Wonders if Lily will come to take James home, will gather Remus into the car too. Wonders who will take him home now that the motorcycle he hates so much is nothing more than a pile of scraps, its owner not much more.

"D'you wanna see a picture of my cat?" James asks. Regulus looks back at him. James is tilting his phone towards Regulus, even though he never answered, and Regulus finds himself leaning closer again to look. His cheek brushes James's shoulder, and he expects James to tense up - they barely know each other. James is probably humoring him, but his best friend's weird little brother leaning his head on his shoulder is probably the last straw. James is just being nice because he's sad. Last Regulus heard, he has a pretty girl and a son waiting for him at home.

But James leans into the touch. Regulus is too tired to pull away. (Part of him doesn't want to pull away. He tells this part to be quiet.)

"Her name's Leo," James says, holding up his phone to reveal a small gray tabby. The smile is evident in his voice, which is soft and close to Regulus's ear. It sounds like a lullaby. "Harry named her."

"Leo," Regulus says softly. James's curls are tickling his cheek. It's not an unpleasant feeling - it reminds him of walking barefoot over grass on a sunny day.

"Like the constellation," James explains. "It's Haz's favorite. 'Course, he is a Leo, so he's a bit biased there...."

Regulus glances down and notices his fingers loosely intertwined with James's. He doesn't remember doing that.

"Leo's the constellation -" he begins.

"Your star," James replies. He sighs softly, content but a little shaky. "Yeah."

They're both silent for a while. It's weirdly comfortable, even in the buzzing hospital, even with Remus sitting numb across from them and Sirius laying unconscious behind them and Peter knocking around, probably smoking the pack of cigarettes Regulus saw him slip out of Remus's pocket before he disappeared.

"Is Lily going to pick you up?" Regulus asks.

"She has Harry tonight," James says instead of answering. It only leaves Regulus with more questions.

"I thought..." Regulus begins, but he doesn't know what he thinks, not really. James seems to, though.

"We broke up," he says simply. He shrugs a little, only one shoulder, trying not to jostle Regulus's head. "Few years ago."

Regulus is quiet for a while. He remembers school, seeing James's golden-brown arm wrapped around Lily's pale shoulders. He remembers a pang of pain at the sight, feels it now, a dull ache located deep within his chest. "I'm sorry to hear that," he says, but he doesn't sound sincere.

"Don't be," James says. He's turned his head, and his lips brush just barely against Regulus's forehead. He should pull away, but instead, he just closes his eyes. "She's my best friend."

Regulus squeezes James's hand. "I'm glad you're here," he whispers.

James squeezes back. "I'm glad you're here, too," he replies.

He sets his phone down on his lap, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a jumbled ball of headphones. He tries for a minute or so to untangle them one-handed before finally sighing and pulling his fingers out from between Regulus's, pulling the earbuds into his phone. He hands one to Regulus.

"Put it in," he says, watching Regulus do nothing.

"Why?" Regulus asks.

"It's too... something in here."

Regulus gives him a small smile as he puts the earbud in. It fits weird, but not uncomfortable weird like he remembers. Just different. As he settles his head back onto James's shoulder, a soft melody begins to play into his ear. James sets the phone down on his knee before taking Regulus's hand again, resting his head against Regulus's curls. Regulus takes a deep breath, closing his eyes.

Maybe this night won't be as long as he thought.

#hp fandom #harry potter fandom #hp #marauders era #cw: car accident #cw: hospital #cw: smoking #(none of the above are graphic) #james potter #regulus black #jegulus microfic #sunseeker #starchaser #james x regulus #regulus x james #james potter x regulus black #in other news harry has a cat named leo :)) #harry canonically being a leo is something more people need to talk about !! #i can't write micro apparently #but i tried #this will be up on ao3 as well :)

[yangkitties]

bros before hoes ✰ chapter 04: Big Reveals

wc: 0.6k

Walking through the bright flashes of the cameras unfazed is child’s play to Sunghoon. After years of this in the rink, and some more of it as an idol, it’s practically second nature to him. 

He smiles and waves a few times, fangs hidden behind his mask. He’s glad for the mask, it made hiding his anxious energy a lot easier. 

Sunghoon had never been the best at meeting new people. Locked up either on the ice or in a studio, he was used to the sound of his movements and breathing being his only company. 

He walks into the building quickly, his manager ushering him in. He’s dragged through the white halls, feet on autopilot. 

His brain wanders on its own, conjuring up more and more unrealistic scenarios. 

What if it is actually Tsuki? What if I trip in front of her??? And if it isn’t?? Then what? Should I make friends with them? Should I ask them to help me win over Tsuki?? What if I call them by the wrong name?? What if I pour coffee all over them????? 

A wall of thoughts begin to build itself in his mind, each word adding to the wall’s height. Sunghoon frowns deeply, mind wandering farther and farther away. 

Everything crashes down as his chest hit’s Manager Na’s arm. He finally sees the door in front of him, a cutesy label reading ‘NEW MCS’ adorning the top. 

He looks at Manager Na curiously, finally opening the door when he nods. 

Deep breath, Sunghoon. As his slender fingers wrap around the door handle, the icy coldness of it grounds him. 

Pushing it open, Sunghoon is greeted to a small room with a couple mirrors and some couches. 

In front of the only window in the room, he spots someone sitting, looking out the glass. 

They turn around, and the sun forms a gentle halo around their face, highlighting the person’s radiant smile. 

For a second Sunghoon’s heart sky rockets, hoping it’s Tsuki. Instantly his hopes are shattered as your face comes fully into view, still adorned with a smile. 

For a full heartbeat you stare at him, drinking in each other’s presence. And then it hits Sunghoon, and both your faces morph into an expression of understanding. 

The creaking of the door cuts through tension, as Manager Na begins to leave, ‘I see you both probably know each other! Sunghoon, I’ll get going, I have somethings to discuss with Manager Choi, introduce yourself,’ the door is almost closed at this point, his face just a sliver of its full self, ‘and for the love of all the is under the sun, do not embarrass our company. See you!’ 

Sunghoon huffs before making his way to you, awkward and shy. 

You watch him intently, brain spinning in and out of focus. You take him in all his glory, his lanky legs and doubtful smile, memorising his every feature. You notice that he’s playing with his fingers, twisting one of the rings, taking it out and putting it back on. 

He clears his throat and raises his hand, a timid greeting. 

‘I’m Y/n, from NEXUS… I don’t know if you remember, but we met after last week’s Music Core stages?’ You ask meekly, hoping he does remember. 

He nods quickly, brown hair flopping up and down. 

You giggle quietly, and that is enough to break the ice. The conversation flows smoothly from there, the both of you exchanging niceties and also numbers. 

Soon enough Manager Na comes to pick Sunghoon up, and he’s out of your sight. 

You smile to yourself as you go back to the company, excitement for the next few months multiplying tenfold. 

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synopsis > with the help of fukutomi tsuki, park y/n finally gains the courage to face their long time crush, the one and only, park sunghoon. park sunghoon thinks it's love at first sight when he sees her. paired up as the new mcs of music bank, shenanigans ensue when y/n learns about sunghoon's crush...

note: life has been lifing too much i swear i'll try better with this posting schedule 😭 also this is double beta read so hopefully there are no mistakes :')

©️ yangkitties 2024 do not copy, plagiarise, or repost

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[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

How do you think Alastor will react to the realization that it is actually possible for Sinners to be redeemed if and/or when word of Pentious's ascension gets back to the Hotel? He seemed sincere in his desire to watch demons struggle and fail to better themselves when he first hired himself into the position of facility manager, but since S1 it seems more likely he's really only there to get his hooks into Charlie and doesn't actually care if the Hotel succeeds or fails as long as he gets what he wants out of the princess.

"The world's a stage, and a stage is a world of entertainment" -Alastor

Hello my pal,

Pilot Alastor does seem more motivated by his whims and wanting entertainment. (I mean, if you have to all eternity...Things get mundane...) But with Amazon picking up the show, he clearly has more motives beside being at the hotel for funsies. I'm sure, he always meant to have a lot of plot around him before Amazon but we actually get content and episodes to feed us.

Side note: I love both versions of Alastor. But I like pilot slightly more. I think his voice is more fitting for the transatlantic radio host voice (no offence of the current one at all. He doing great and probably done a better job on delivery...I mean that Fuck you was perfect.) Also, I really miss Alastor boots/hoofs click clacking around the hotel when he walked. I wish they kept that sound effect.

I think his reaction would really depend on who he contracted to and what his real hidden objective is with the hotel. Like...is he chained to Lilith and he not there for the hotel but to protect and help Charlie?

Or is he there to make sure the hotel fails to prevent an uprising, and forcing Heavens hand?

Is he placed there to get close and keep on eye on things and trick Charlie?

Is he there to make sure it succeeds so Heaven foundations begin to crumble and plants seeds of doubt amongst other things.

Overall, I think Alastor believe redemption was a loss cause. Even, if he was told my his contractor that it was possible he always doubted it. He made his point in the pilot. Paraphrase: Sinners are past redemption. Their chance was the life they lived before, the punishment of their actions is Hell. I think Alastor truly believes that. Or at least wants it to be that way. We know Alastor was a serial killer with a weird moral code and killed people who deserved it. I think Alastor would hate the idea that his victims has a chance for a place in Heaven if he hadn't double dead them already. Alastor knows how terrible people can be...hes one of them. I think the idea sinners like him having a chance to share a space with his mother in heaven puts a foul taste in his mouth.

So when its proven Redemption is possible. I think he will be quite stunned and shocked. He'll act ecstatic for show and probably his generally happy for Charlie achieving her dream. But depending the reason why he there and how he owns him, he going to be strongly conflicted.

Possible panic/nervous if he failed his objective and had to deal with the person who owns his soul, as they will be very displeased with him because of that fact. Perhaps worried, because it furthers his master's objective *CoughCough Roo CoughCough* Which is something he personally against, but doesnt have a say in the matter. Or maybe he just painfully conflicted as he knows the playing field is nearly completed on being set up and the time to betray Charlie and the others is rapidly approaching. -He grew attached to them and he faltering on the idea to betray (destroy?) them. Panics as years of planning and effort to fulfilling his masters objective that would release him from his deal once completed...only to hesitate because of some fond feelings for naive weaklings? Afraid to incur his master wrath and lost of freedom if he failed because he was swayed by his pathetic feelings. Or maybe hes excited because his part of the deal is over...but still feel conflicted as it would place the hotel and its people in a bad and dangerous position.

This is why Alastor is such a fun character. He a wild card. He can go in any direction...Hell, he can go in all directions. He can rationally plan and think one way, his feelings going screw that and head in another direction, fulfilling his obligations as overlord and hotelier in another direction, and his chained soul can just flip off all the former force them to go in the direction directed by the master holding the chain.

I believe despite Alastor disbelieving in redemption in the beginning, or maybe slightly oppose it. He is slowly warming up (but still not even room temperature) to the idea as his fondness grows to the residents of the hotel. He observes how the residence became better. How some (Angel) gone through enough in Hell that perhaps his sins he committed in his short life has been overpaid. Eternity is long and can be harsh...as some sinners may already sin once to be damned for all of eternity.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin thoughts #hazbin theory #hazbin hotel thoughts #the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel the radio demon