#i spent way too much time in this stupid joke 😭😭

[the-acid-pear]

I'm sorry

#luly talks #shitpost #tarrare #i spent way too much time in this stupid joke 😭😭 #i will never stop being obsessed w tarrare that bitch was crazey #edit: CRYING AND SHAKING SOMEONE MADE THIS JOKE ALREADY whatever mine's prettier isnt that right followers? 🥰

[eepywriters]

dating younger quackity? like 2018-2019

.✦°. • Dating younger Quackity ( ´∀｀)

warnings: none^^

a/n: thank u so much for the request! This was super fun to write, took me back to 2019 when I started watching him :D either way hope you enjoy! (Sorry it took so long 😭 life’s been busy)

I feel like he’d be the type to fall in love with his best friend, or generally someone that he knows fairly well

Expect nights spent talking on the phone with him, laughing your asses off at memes and stupid games instead of doing homework

Or endless bike rides around the city, as if you didn’t do that one route million of times

Maybe even little lessons on the basics of boxing (he isn’t a very good teacher though, he’s too afraid to hurt you)

It comes naturally, his heartbeat starts to pick up every time he hears your voice, your laugh, you saying his name ugh

And you won’t stop leaving his mind, you’re always there, in every each one of his thoughts (might as well pay rent at this point)

Have you always sound this pretty?

Have you always been this pretty?

Before he knows it, he’s noticing all the little details that make you, well, YOU

He’s in love.

Fuck.

He wouldn’t know what to do about his feelings, either he ignores them and buries this secret deep into his heart, or, after a scary amount of convincing from his friends, he confronts you with the shyest demeanor you’ve ever seen him wear

Assuming this is one of his first experiences, if not the first, he would be very cautious in his actions, not sure yet about how to handle a relationship, especially if it gets more serious

He wouldn’t talk about being in a romantic relationship for a while, mostly cause he doesn’t like to share his personal life too much, especially when it comes to romance

But is there a teenage boy that doesn’t like to brag about being in a relationship?

Would mention it once, casually, you know, to be cool and all

Like “yeah I have a partner” a little smile to top it off, nothing big, just a bit of something to feel swag

Nobody believed him.

The loud boy who screamed about the president 24/7 having a partner? Yeah nice try kiddo, go back to play your stupid videogames

At some point in his young carrier he got tired about the running joke of you being an illusion

“This is what too much screen time does to a person KEKW” chat would say, haha how funny (if you hadn’t notice, he’s being sarcastic)

As frustrating as it was to battle against hundreds of people on whether HE was in a relationship or not, he’d never ask you to do anything you are uncomfortable in doing

So, even if showing up on stream would probably help with this little problem of his, he’d encourage you to actually think carefully if you want to make an appearance or not

“I do have a partner!” Alex says for what feels like the fiftieth time that evening. He should probably give up, after all who cares if chat doesn’t believe him. He knows the truth and that’s enough. Right?

WRONG.

His credibility, and his pride, are in the way. Plus is he even that bad of a catch for people to think he can’t pull?

His head falls onto his hand, resting there as he lets his thoughts run while the fast stream chat on his monitor lights up his face in various dull colors.

You were sitting on a little chair, not too far away from him, staring at something in your phone. He did feel bad for inviting you over just for him to stream an hour later, but you had always said that you didn’t mind watching him since you liked seeing him do something he enjoyed. As if he didn’t enjoy spending time with you, but fine.

So he put his insecurities aside, most of them being about you possibly not liking his streams, and provided you a chair to at least sit comfortably as he robbed you of your time by going live yet again.

It had been going fairly well: he was checking out some horrible games in Roblox, or rather he had been screaming his lungs out for an hour straight, and of course, when a random kid on Roblox asked him to be his girlfriend, chat got back on their “no relationship, you are a loser” (he knows it’s a long name, he couldn’t come up with anything better okay??) agenda.

Your hand waving in his peripheral vision brought him back from his mind: he hadn’t realized he had zoned out.

He looked at you briefly, almost feeling bad for the worried stare you were giving him. He usually doesn’t feel this defeated after an unserious bickering with chat, but to say that this all situation wasn’t playing with his self-doubts would be lying. He’s fine though, he just feels a little gloomy today.

You turn your head to the side and give him a thumps up, voicelessly asking whether he was fine or not. And he just nods, giving you a little, forced, smile before going back to the bright monitor. He doesn’t like the thought of you being concerned about this. While, admittedly, it does feel nice to have someone worried about him, Alex never quite liked to be a bother to anyone. He could handle this alone.

Then why is his head so heavy? And why does he feel without energy all of a sudden? He just needs to do what he does best: push the pain away and walk forward. But even something as easy as that sounds impossible right now.

Maybe he should end stream.

He’s too lost in his own thoughts to realize you had stood from your chair, steadily approaching his setup. When he realizes what’s going on, it’s too late.

“You don’t-“ before the frantic words can leave his mouth, you were already behind him. You cross your arms down his chest, whilst your head, resting on the top of his beanie, being high enough to not get seen by the webcam.

Many things were going trough Alex’s mind, a lot of them being about how nice it felt being hold by you, but only two words left his lips:

“Who’s got no game now, huh?”.

At that point it would go from chat not believing him to chat teasing him endlessly about him being a simp

You two could do nothing and he would still be accused of it, just because you were there

Is it true? Yeah, but it was nonetheless a bit annoying

He WOULD bully you on stream when the secret is out

Chat: “do you like (Name) or Thanos more? Don’t lie”

“Well…” he’d say, scratching his neck in faux uneasiness.

“Don’t think about it what the fuck!”.

His chat took your relationship quite well, after all the time he wasn’t famous enough to have fans being jealous and obsessing over him

Actually you became kind of an icon of his channel

And he did milk this for content but it’s not like you didn’t encourage him, quite the contrary, so expect videos like “playing Roblox with my partner” or “The best Habbo raid ever w/(Name)”

As sweet as this all can be, we haven’t forgot about his light teasing (borderline bullying) on stream, have we?

Don’t worry, you got back at him with the help of Aksel countless of time, he’d be your partner in crime when it came to bullying Alex

You were watching meme compilations with them on stream, occasionally sharing some little laughs and snarky comments, and, one way or another, you somehow ended up talking about shampoos. Yes, shampoos.

“Honestly, I think 2 in 1 are gross” Alex says, spinning around in his chair while still keeping an eye on the running chat. You were sitting next to him in your usual simple wooden chair that he usually stole from his kitchen. It wasn’t much, and you could feel your thighs getting painted with the hard design of your seat, but it feels very homy, heart warming in its simplicity.

Yet, as comfortable and happy as you felt, you really couldn’t help spatting out the comment that had been dancing dangerously on the tip of your tongue, begging to be freed.

“And what would you know about it you bald fuck”.

Silence filled the room.

.

.

.

You start to grow worried you stepped over the line as you shoot guilty side-glances at him, trying to evaluate whether he was or wasn’t okay with your stupid joke. His spinning was getting gradually slower, and his eyes wide and open jaw came to view.

You’re able to let out a silent sigh of relief as Alex’s face sinks into a, clearly exaggerated, offended pout.

“Have you heard them?? Defend me Aksel what the hell” he cries dramatically, his mindless spinning coming at a halt to stare into the soul of his screen, specifically at the man that is lightly grinning right back at him.

“I mean.. they’re kinda right man..” he mutters in his typical monotone voice, barely holding back an amused snicker.

Alex’s look of betrayal was probably the funniest shit you had seen in a while.

“Why are you two ganging up on a Mexican guy huh??”

“Awww the Mexican card? No better come back??” you laugh smugly, your face screaming “triumph” as he gawks at you.

“You truly found your match” Aksel laughs, adjusting his bucket hat as he leaned down on his office chair.

“Shut the fuck up” he mumbles before looking away from you with a huff.

Oh God does he love you.

Moving on though, these were harsh years for him, so he needs lots of love and support from his partner

I think it’d be too soon to have full on cuddling sessions, but i see him loving your touch, especially if it’s something domestic like a simple hug or a little caress down his back

Not really into PDA either, but he would find comfort in holding your hand whenever he’s tense or even just cold

It’s a reminder you are still by his side despite all of his flaws and insecurities, you chose him

(Ended up being way longer than I intended but had fun :D sorry for the long wait :( I had two very stressing weeks in the middle of writing this)

#quackity x reader #quackity imagine #quackity x y/n #quackity x you #qsmp x reader #quackity headcannons #quackity fanfic #going back to the origins #also I have those headphones they are PEAK

[bagelvangr]

I wasn't going to post this because it was just meant to be a quick dumb thing to get me out of my art block, but I spent way too much time on my one stupid joke to not post it here.

...anyway, the joke [ tinyurl(dot)com/livegayreact ] (which I super duper pinky gay promise is not malicious, but don't feel obliged to click if you don't wanna) only works on desktop 🫠 I guess I should have checked if the execution was correct before I put that much effort into it lmao 😭

#I made A TYPO OH NO #my ipad had not been charging #and then when it was charged I realized my apple pencil was also not charged #so I went with paper and pencil lmao #I put the text and graphics in photoshop for better legibility #and to save you all from my shitty handwriting yw #kassandra #kassandra of sparta #assassins creed odyssey #live homosexual reaction #lgbtq #happy pride #I guess? lmao

[strlingsav]

recently found ur blog and omg

ur writing is *chef’s kiss* 🤭

can I please request a part 2 to Alone? (maybe more 🤭)

I rlly wanna see their story play out idk 😭

Thank you sm! 🥹🤍 Here's part two just for you!!

Alone: Two

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Since your shared kiss on the couch inside your new apartment, Simon had been unreachable. He was avoiding you, avoiding the confusing and uncomfortable feelings that came with being close to people, involved in their personal lives, attached.

Simon knew he promised to take you out, to do things the right way; but that wasn't a man he thought he could be. He wasn't a 'flowers and chocolates' type of man, and you deserved that. You deserved every ounce of cliché gestures and bloated words of affection.

He avoided you for your own good- protecting you from the damage he'd surely do. Maybe not soon, but someday. Better for you to figure it out sooner rather than later. To dislike him now than hate him when you were years deep in a commitment to each other.

Regardless of the revelations he'd had, the adamant voice in his head reminding him that happiness was for good people, normal people, he couldn't get rid of you.

Your lips, hands, the curves of your body. Your smell, your taste. The way you smiled at Johnny's stupid fucking jokes. The way you smiled at him.

It was torture- karmic torture for not calling or texting you the next day. As hard as he tried to convince himself that you were just a passing moment in his day, you'd found a corner of his mind and dug your claws in.

You, on the other hand, had tried to push it from your mind. You held a bit of anger for being left in the dark, but it was no surprise. You were used to men being flakey, unable to commit. You'd hoped Simon was different, but the burn of rejection was unpleasantly familiar.

You'd convinced yourself it was for the better, anyways. Simon would be gone for long stretches, you weren't sure you had a lot in common; the list went on, the more you justified it.

It was a fleeting moment, one that was snuffed out as soon as you didn't hear from Simon. Despite your overactive protests, you couldn't keep your mind from wandering to him- his touch, the rumble in his chest every time he spoke, his hands on your body.

It wasn't fair, the way he'd left you in the lurch, but still pining for more.

Johnny was only in town for another day, deploying to an overseas expedition for a month or so.

He could recognize the disappointment in your voice, hear the weak smile you used to hide how you truly felt. But Johnny knew you, he'd known you long enough to call your bluff and force you to go out.

"'Least get your arse off that couch," Johnny sighed into the receiver.

You could hear the ruckus of the bar in the background, loud laughter and music drowning out his voice.

"I'm comfortable," You whined, your feet kicked up on the coffee table, a throw blanket over your legs.

"Wallowin' in self-pity," He scoffed. "Get yer arse down here, I'm leavin' soon."

You rolled your eyes. "You can't use the deployment excuse just to get what you want."

"Can if it works. Get movin' kid."

"Fine," You sighed. "Give me twenty."

"Copy."

You readied yourself; a quick shower, not giving much thought to your clothes, tidying your face and hair to appear presentable at the very least. You'd spent your Friday night letting the couch swallow you whole and it showed.

—

You rushed through the doors of the bar, taking refuge from the pouring rain. You shook off your jacket, your eyes lifting to scan the room for Johnny.

Not only did you find Johnny- you found Simon, too. Seated next to Johnny, glass in hand, oblivious to your presence; Simon was chatting leisurely, like he didn't have a single thing in the world to worry about. It made you mad.

You wandered over slowly, your eyes glued to Simon, waiting for the moment he'd look up and find you.

When he did, his body froze- not an obvious reaction, but enough that you knew Johnny didn't tell him you were joining them.

Johnny turned to see you, a bright smile across his face, eating up the sharp glare you were throwing at him.

"Y'made it!" He stood up, pulling you into a rough hug.

He reeked of beer and cigarettes, the latter courtesy of Simon, and was manhandling you enough that you knew he was drunk.

"I did," You said, lips tense with discomfort and irritation. Leaning into his ear, you whispered, "You didn't tell me Simon would be here."

"Ah-" He frowned. "Couldnae tell ya, you'd never'a come."

"That's the point," You groaned.

"Suck it up," He huffed. "I'd like t'spend my last night with ya."

"You're an ass, Johnny," You sighed, sitting up on the stool he offered.

He took a seat on the other side, leaving you sandwiched between the two men you weren't exactly happy with.

You turned to Simon, mustering a polite smile. "Hi."

"Y'alright?" He asked, swallowing harshly.

You nodded.

It was worse than you imagined- the uncomfortable silence between you, the palpable tension connecting your bodies. It made your leg bounce.

Seeing you again since he'd kissed you was strange. It was so easy to leave it behind, pretend you weren't on his mind when he wasn't with you, but in the flesh, every single justification seemed so impossibly stupid.

It was a test of his self-control. He wanted to explain himself, tell you why he hadn't called or texted, but when you appeared before him, he was at a loss for words.

It wasn't something Simon was familiar with. He didn't bother with dating, with romance. That was reserved for people that could fit that into their lives, but when you sat down next to him, your sweatshirt and jeans that fit just right, he couldn't help but feel like it wouldn't be so bad.

He was sipping on bourbon, swallowing the bitter taste of regret now that he could smell you, see your face again. It was entirely different now, now that you were real, there, in front of him. He couldn't so easily let go.

You ordered a drink, waiting patiently while chewing the inside of your cheek. Simon's gaze was burning a hole in the side of your head.

Johnny leaned forward, elbows resting on the bar. He looked at you, watching you sip your drink slowly- an excuse not to talk or interact.

"You gonna miss me?" He asked, a grin on his face.

"Not one bit," You rolled your eyes, before giving him a teasing grin.

"Awe, kid," He hummed, leaning in to rest his arm over your shoulders.

"You're drunk," You grimaced, pushing his arm off you.

"Nae-" He groaned. Pausing for a moment, he winked. "Just a wee bit."

"You invited me out just to get plastered?" You laughed.

"Y'can take care of me," He slurred, elbowing you.

"You had Simon for that."

He waved you off, dismissing you.

You watched him lean forward, resting his head on his forearms.

"I'm outta here in twenty-four hours," He groaned.

"I know," You said, smiling.

"Fuck," He sat up, rubbing his face. "'M steamin'."

"Why don't I get you home?"

"Aye," He nodded. "I'll crash at yours, if that's alright?"

You nodded, "Course. Let's get going."

Standing from the stool, you helped Johnny down until you were sure he could walk himself to the door. You left Simon to pay the tab.

"I'll help you get him home," Simon said, following behind you after throwing down a wad of cash.

You didn't look back, didn't acknowledge his words until you stepped out front, waiting for a taxi. The rain had subsided, leaving behind wet pavement and glistening streetlights.

"I can get him home. Thanks, though."

You stuffed your hands into your pockets, shifting your weight awkwardly. Johnny leaned against the side of the building, his head falling back to rest. He was likely dizzy, and you hoped he wouldn't vomit on your new couch.

Simon stood behind you, the picture of discomfort, his eyes meeting the ground.

"'M sorry," He started, shifting his gaze to look at you. "I didn't reach out to you after-"

"You don't have to explain yourself," You said, twisting your body to see him.

As badly as you wanted to hear it, hear why, you knew it would make no difference. He'd made his choice.

"I want to," He furrowed his brows. "Didn't know how, I don't do this."

"Don't do what?" You asked, a smile of disbelief warping your lips.

"Datin' or shite like it."

"It's pretty standard to call or text if you want to see someone again. But, there are no hard feelings."

A lie, that slipped out seamlessly beneath the cover of the night, hiding behind the weak smile that Johnny would see right through. Thankfully, Johnny was distracted by the urge to be sick.

"I did," He said, stepping closer. "Want t'see you again. Just got to thinkin' and-"

Your brows furrowed. You were a bit amused now, the irritation in your chest was disguised by a short laugh. "It's okay. It was just a kiss."

Just a kiss.

You knew it was more than that, but you'd never admit it. Not out loud, not to yourself and definitely not to Simon.

You'd caught him off guard, made him blink a few times to digest what you'd said. Just a kiss. His chest stung, a rock settling in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he'd idealized it, idealized you, but he could recognize it for what it was. It was more than that, more than you were trying desperately to reduce it to.

Now wasn't the time to fight with you, to argue why you were wrong. So, he swallowed his pride, and gave you a goodnight, slinking off to lick his wounds.

—

You brought Johnny home, helping him to lie down on the couch, covering him with the blanket you'd wrapped yourself in earlier.

"Give the man a chance," Johnny muttered, shifting to his side. "He's tryin'."

"My ass," You said back, making Johnny laugh.

"He is," He said. "He's a good lad."

You stood still for a moment, wondering if you should give up on your vendetta, and let Simon at least explain himself. Your hopeful, optimistic side was cheering for a reunion, while the other half of you still held some contempt for his behaviour.

"Don't think so hard," Johnny murmured, shoving his face into the throw pillow. "Just talk to the man."

"Go to bed," You ordered.

You turned on your heel, heading to your room to slide into bed.

Your phone screen lit up- two texts, an unknown number.

The first, 'hope you got home alright', followed by, 'nice seeing you again'.

You assumed it was Simon, having deleted him from your contacts in a flurry of anger. You were a bit embarrassed about your own actions, now that the storm had passed and you'd had time to cool off.

You decided to listen to Johnny for once. He was always honest, always looking out for you no matter the circumstances. He wouldn't push for it if he didn't think Simon was worth it.

You sighed, cursing yourself and Johnny silently, your thumbs circling the keyboard for a moment, deciding what to write.

You typed out, 'made it home. nice seeing you too'.

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod mwii #mwii #simon riley #strlingsavwrites #ghost x you #ask strlingsav #alone series

[randoimago]

Hi! Can I request some fluff headcanons for Yuri Briar, Franky Franklin and Sylvia Sherwood? Thanks!

Fluff Headcanons

Fandom: Spy x Family

Character(s): Yuri Briar, Franky Franklin and Sylvia Sherwood

Type of Request: Headcanons

Note(s): Sylvia's personality section literally says "not much is shown to get an understanding of her" so I'm trying my best with the limited things there are 😭

Franky

Franky is bad at words when it comes to you since he loves you so much. So, he ends up sending you so many little letters or putting sticky notes all over the place. There's a lot of redacted on the letters and notes since he spent all night trying to get it right.

Tries so hard to be smooth when it comes to you. He wants to be the ultimate gentleman with holding doors open for you, giving you his arm when you walk, things like that. Has tried pulling a push door before to be chivalrous. It made you smile, which he loves, but god does he stay awake at night mortified about what he did.

Does try to make you smile constantly. Tells you lots of stupid jokes and cheesy pick-up lines. Probably stumbles on the punchline a bit, but you still smile and that's enough for him. Has also made sure to walk Bond over to you because people love dogs, and he hopes you love him more for showing you the goodest boy.

Sylvia

Keeps an eye on you from a distance. She wants to make sure you're okay and safe, but she doesn't want to get too close. So, she makes sure to watch from afar as that is the easiest way to make sure you're safe.

Sylvia has been through a lot with losing her partner and child due to the war, so she is making sure that you're happy. She uses a disguise so she can talk to you as a stranger or just be a friend for you when you need it. Honestly doesn't mind if your relationship stays purely platonic as long as she can still be close to you.

When she does have a very rare break then she likes to go to a cafe she's seen you frequenting. While her taste in drink and food probably isn't the same as yours, there's a comfort to buying what you regularly get. And if you do end up showing up too, then she's glad to have you join her.

Yuri

You get so many flowers from Yuri. Even if the flowers he gave you previously haven't wilted yet, you're getting a new bouquet. You might need to ask him to lay off the flowers for a bit.

He can't always spend time with you like he wants because of his job so he makes sure to call you whenever he can just to remind you, he loves you. Honestly loses track of time when he calls you because he just wants to hear your voice and his boss has yelled at him many times to pay attention.

Always tries to hear about any cute thing or something you saw while window shopping or just on a walk so he can secretly buy it for you. He makes lots of money from his job and he's happy to spoil you. Sends you presents labeled as a "secret admirer" because he thinks that's cute (he has forgotten he labeled the gift that way before and has definitely gotten very jealous until he remembered it's from him).

#spy x family #sxf x reader #yuri briar x reader #franky franklin x reader #sylvia sherwood x reader

[theflyingfeeling]

💖 it's here, it's pink, it's sparkly, and full of fluff 💖

Hiiiiii and welcome to witness my attempt at an Olli/Allu Advent Calendar, in which I'll give you ~a cute little something~ about these two idiots in love almost every day until December 24! My plan is to use prompts from this list to either write a fic based on the prompt or just some good ol' delulu thoughts if all else fails. I cannot guarantee there'll be a post literally every day, but I'm really excited to try this out and I thank you for your support along the way in advance 💝

The biggest thanks and a million hugs go to one of my favourite human beings @kraeuterhexchen for making the adorable banner!! I mean helloooooo?? 😭 Go show them some love ❣️

For December 1, the prompt list is titled One True Pairing Moments, and the prompt I chose was 'calling just to hear their voice' 🥺 You can read the fic below, I hope you like it <3

.

PS. Even though this is an advent calendar of sorts, I'm not planning on making this particularly Christmassy. I hope no one minds terribly!

~

Falling for Aleksi had, in a way, sneaked up on Olli, at least if he fooled himself a little. He could pretend he didn’t feel any different about the man than he did about, say, Joonas or Tommi, but that strategy only worked for so long – that is to say, approximately until Aleksi as much as smiled softly at him from across a room or bumped his shoulder into his jovially when walking down the street and Olli would feel his breath getting caught in his throat or stumble in his words, his tongue tangled like shoelaces, which was so unlike him as well and frustrated him to no end. It really took a special kind of fool to not only develop some level of feelings for a friend, a colleague, a bandmate for Christ’s sake, but also become so hopelessly enamored with him that you rolled awake in bed in the dead of night, grabbing your phone and tossing it back on the nightstand again and again because you couldn’t decide whether or not you should, on some erratic 2 o’clock impulse, call him to let him know he was the very reason for your insomnia. 

Turning on his back, Olli groaned (only a little desperately) as he remembered losing himself in the lingering hug they had shared just before the arrivals lobby at the airport, inhaling Aleksi’s scent and wishing they wouldn’t have to go home just yet, even if Olli was more than ready to finally sleep in his own bed again. Ironically, ever since they had returned home from tour, Olli had spent night after sleepless night missing Aleksi terribly: his stupid jokes and playful banter that bordered on being flirtatious if Olli allowed himself the benefit of delusion; his quick, subtle smiles that probably meant nothing; his little touches Olli hoped meant something; his smell and his touch and the softness of his hair at the back of his neck, compared to which the blanket Olli was grasping in his fist was like sandpaper. (How he had come to know of the qualities of Aleksi’s hair in such detail, he preferred not to dwell on too much to save himself from the heartache, so let’s just leave it at ‘stressful, emotional week far away from home’ and ‘a little too much to drink’).

Above all, Olli missed Aleksi’s voice. He hadn’t even thought that was possible, until the other morning when Olli had woken up to a voice message Aleksi had left just hours earlier, rambling about a song idea he had gotten in the middle of the night – something he did from time to time – and Olli had spent the next several minutes replaying it over and over again as he had lied in bed procrastinating getting up and and instead closing his eyes to better imagine Aleksi lying there beside him, turned on his side to face Olli, talking to him sleepily like they often did when they shared a room on tour and were just too lazy to join others at breakfast. Much like the hug at the airport, Olli wished those moments would have lasted way longer than they did, often ending abruptly when either of their phones would go off with Santeri’s name on the screen, a passive-aggressive interruption to the soft, low tone of Aleksi’s early-morning thoughts. (Sometimes, when Olli was lucky enough, he had been blessed with the bliss of feeling the light touch of a fingertip tracing along his collarbone, cut short just as frustratingly by their well-meaning tour manager politely enquiring whether the two of them had plans of dragging themselves downstairs for some toast and coffee, or if they’d rather starve until lunchtime, for which he wasn’t at all sure they’d even have time that day.)

The lovesick idiot that he was, his thumb hovered over the ‘play’ button of Aleksi’s voice message, probably for the millionth time that week. The chest-carving hesitation turned into a heart flip when he noticed Aleksi was online.

Then Aleksi began to type, and Olli held his breath the entire time until a new message appeared in the thread, anticipation holding him by his throat.

You awake?

Olli exhaled and typed his affirmative reply, leaving out the reason why.

He blinked at the screen, waiting for Aleksi to ask him a random question that clearly couldn’t wait until morning, or perhaps talk about something related to another late-night Twitch stream (from what Olli had gathered, Aleksi had been doing a lot of those recently, and with his last remaining braincell Olli had managed to resist the temptation to watch every single one of them, because he knew that if he did, it would only dig his grave of pining and longing deeper, seeing Aleksi smile and giggle about but not being able to do that with him or snuggle up next to him when he was wearing that flannel Olli often used as a blanket in the tour bus). But instead of another text appearing on the screen, Olli’s phone began to vibrate in his hand, and it took him an embarrassingly long while to understand it was because Aleksi was calling him. 

“Hi,” he sighed when he finally collected himself enough to speak. He prayed he’d be able to hear what Aleksi was going to say from the thumping heartbeat echoing in his ears.

“Hi,” a soft voice said. “Sorry, I know it’s late…”

“No, not at all,” Olli hurried to say, “I mean, I wasn’t sleeping. Not even close, actually.” Part of him hoped Aleksi wouldn’t ask about it, but in some foolhardy way the possibility intrigued him. 

Nothing much, he would have likely said anyway, but what would happen if he told Aleksi how it really was? That he squeezed his pillow imagining it was him instead, or wailed into it because something had reminded him of a moment-that-was-probably-not-a-Moment™ they had shared? What would Aleksi say if he knew Olli sometimes touched himself the way Aleksi had touched him That One Night they never talked about? The only obstacle between Olli and that knowledge was a bottomless ocean of cold sweat and cowardice, and Olli had never been a great swimmer.

“So, ummm…,” Olli said when Aleksi’s end stayed silent. “What’s up?”

A short breath of laughter sounded through the phone line.

“Honestly? I don’t know, I… It’s just been a… weird week, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, like… my head’s just been so full of… everything and… I’ve been so busy and kinda tense and… fuck, this is going to sound crazy,” Aleksi laughed that brief laugh again, although to Olli it didn’t sound particularly cheerful. Tired, more like. Strained, somehow. Not sad, but definitely a little troubled, and Olli intended to find out why.

“I’m all for crazy, you know.” Olli hoped his sorry attempt to lighten Aleksi’s mood would work, and so he smiled in relief when he heard Aleksi chuckle at his comment.

“I know,” Aleksi said softly, in that tone of voice that had Olli melt against his bedsheets. “So yeah, it’s been a rough week, but… in between all that stupid shit, I’ve been thinking a lot about… umm… well, the tour and– and… about you, for some reason,” (the troubled laugh made its return) “and… yeah. That’s sort of helped me a lot recently.”

Olli listened to the words carefully, not fully believing what he was hearing, yet clinging on to them until they were all but swirling around in his otherwise empty head like dry leaves in October wind.

“And tonight I just couldn’t fucking sleep for some reason and nothing I did seemed to help and so I thought I’d call you. And I’m–” If it hadn’t been dead silent otherwise, Olli wouldn’t have heard the shaky breath Aleksi paused to take, “I’m sorry I’m calling you at this hour and bothering you with this all but I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. To see if that would help.”

“Does it?” Olli asked. Aleksi’s confession had made him clasp his blanket close to his chest, as if that would do anything about his rapidly beating heart.

“Yeah. It does. So maybe just… keep talking?”

Despite his mind living a life of its own, completely unfit to form a single coherent thought, for Aleksi’s sake Olli tried his best to think of something to say, but everything he came up with was something he was not ready to tell him quite yet. 

“Uuummmm…” he said to buy himself some time, but while he waited for his useless brain and mouth to form any actual words, Aleksi spoke again.

“Fuck, I’m– I’m sorry, this is too weird, I shouldn’t have– I’ll let you go back to–”

“I miss you,” Olli blurted before Aleksi would hang up on him. He squeezed his eyes shut when Aleksi went silent, too silent for too long for it to mean any good.

The line stayed open, however, which Olli took as a positive sign, even if the seconds during which all Olli could hear was Aleksi's quiet breathing seemed endless.

“And I you,” Aleksi finally replied. “A little too much, probably, or at least that’s what it feels like,” he chuckled. Olli almost missed the quiet sniff that followed.

He had to steel himself for his next question.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… forget it.” Aleksi said quietly. Contrary to Aleksi’s request, Olli knew he was going to all but ‘forget it’ for the next 3-5 business days; mentally he booked all his evenings as well as most of his mornings and noons for pondering what exactly had been in Aleksi’s mind in that moment or why he had sounded so sombre, almost disappointed. He’d probably never come to any satisfactory conclusion about it though, at least not without a little help from Aleksi himself. 

A ridiculous idea popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, the words flooded out of his mouth.

“Do you wanna come over some time? To hang out? When your schedule’s a little less tight, I mean.” He sucked on his lips and closed his eyes as he waited for Aleksi’s answer, ready to hang up the moment he’d decline the offer on some obvious and logical reason for why Aleksi couldn’t possibly make nor want to take a trip to the north to see him, such as ‘didn’t we just spend over two months on the road together?’ or ‘damn, buddy, I miss you alright but not quite that much, I’ve done enough sitting in public transportation for one year, thank you very much lol’ or ‘what about Rilla?’

“You could take Rilla with you, you know.” Olli hurried to say, just in case, the deranged part of his brain thinking there might be a chance Aleksi might be at least considering it.

“Oh! Well, umm… I actually might have time next week? If– if you’re actually being serious about this.”

Funny you should ask, Aleksi; I’ve actually never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am about having you here with me so that I can hold you and be held by you and see your face when I wake up in the morning and say goodnight to your annoyingly cute face instead of via text message and maybe, if the stars are in position and the northern wind won’t discourage me too much, I might actually be brave enough to torment you with the knowledge of just how miserable I’ve been since we last saw each other.

“I think it would be cool,” he said, because he had a feeling what he wanted to say would’ve been a tad too much and sudden. “I mean, if you’re up for it, of course. I understand if you can’t make it though, I know you have all those side projects.”

“No, I think it might actually do me some good to get out of the capital area for change.” Then there was a muffled ‘ouch’, followed by a laugh that sounded much brighter than any of the other ones Olli had heard from Aleksi that night. “Sorry, correction, it might do us some good. Rilla just told me she’s most definitely coming too. Rilla, stop nibbling on my toes!”

Olli smiled tiredly at the mental image that was painted in his mind of Aleksi and Rilla cuddling in bed, both minding their own business from what it seemed while still minding each other as well, very much indeed.

“I’ll be sure to set up a bed for her in the guest room.”

“The guest room? Do you not know her at all? If she’s not getting the master bedroom, she’ll ruin all your rugs and most of your shoes. Probably also gossip about you to all the neighbourhood dogs. And she’s brutal.”

Olli held his stomach as he laughed, tears almost forming in the corners of his eyes. In his defence, it was late and he was finally becoming tired, thus too far gone to help himself, let alone feel embarrassed about being in stitches about something Aleksi had said that was only mildly amusing. (It wasn’t the first time that had happened either, and likely not the last time.)

“So yeah, ummm, I can take a look at some flight options for next week and let you know, alright? I’m gonna let you sleep now and… I should get some myself too.”

Olli wanted to tell Aleksi he’d love to stay up chatting until dawn, but the yawn he let out when he opened his mouth to speak implied Aleksi had a point.

“Yeah, let me know. And… thanks for calling, I… you have no idea how much I needed this tonight.”

That was as close to a confession as Olli was able to get as of now.

“Probably not half as much as I did.”

Olli chuckled at Aleksi’s response, mostly to hide his own agony.

If only you knew. If only I knew how to tell you.

It didn’t take long for Olli to doze off after they hung up, and when he woke up to the kids from next door having a snowball fight under his window in the morning, he noticed new messages from Aleksi, sent half an hour after their phone call had ended, complete with screen captions of airplane schedules.

Would these days work for you? I might be free all week actually 😇

Olli cuddled into his pillow while typing his reply, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Aleksi.

yeah I’m free as well. I’ll pick you two up from the airport 🖤

From then on, Olli started counting the days until he’d see Aleksi again.

#blind channel fanfiction #blind channel rpf #ollixallu #24 days of gift-giving by theflyingfeeling #<- that's the tag i'll be using for these btw #everyone stop and look at the banner!! 🥺💖 #it's not QUITE like the original one ju made first but maybe one day you'll get to see that masterpiece as well 😏 #but ooff the way i've gone from having 'a plan' to having 'a better plan' to having 'no plan whatsoever' with this? 😂 #so yeah idk what kinda fics/posts there'll be in this series... stay tuned and see for yourself! 🤭 #some of them might be in the same universe/plot. others may not. who knows? not i 😌 #(...but as you can see from this fic the door for a multiple-part story is definitely open 👀) #some of the fics may not even be based on a prompt though if i'm not feeling like it. honestly i'm curious to see how this will turn out! #(and if this ends up being the only post i ever make that's alright too! i refuse to bully myself with a hobby i'm doing for free <3) #however: i'm not taking requests per say BUT feel free to snoop on the prompts for each day and send me your ideas or hopeful wishes 👀 #there are certain ones i'm more drawn to but i haven't really set anything in stone #one could say i'm just going with the flow. fuck around and find out if you will ✨ #also: not sure if/when i'll be bothered to post any of these on ao3 #probably i'll just see how many fics i manage to actually finish and dump them all at once on ao3 on christmas day lol #anyway! enjoy & let me hear from you <3

[ackermansimper]

Hey, if I’m asking too much please tell me, it’s cool! I don’t wanna push it, but if you have time and you feel like it could you maybe write about the Ackermans with a S/o who likes joking around a lot?

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOU, YOU NEVER PUSHED TOO MUCH. SORRY FOR THE HIATUS BTW IMMA DO ALL MY INBOX REQUESTS 😭❤️

The Ackerman's when their s/o likes to joke a lot

Kenny

-Kenny would absolutely love having an s/o who throws jokes around a lot as he himself, likes joking a lot as well

-He would almost always go along with his s/o's jokes whether it was insulting someone or not. He just liked getting a laugh outta it.

-He'd like someone who can insult him for fun without being afraid. Makes him feel like he can absolutely obliterate them with words and they wouldn't take offense because they throw insults back and then laugh with him about it.

-He also liked having an excuse to insult you (not that he needed one)

-He'd definitely like someone with a crude sense of humor. Ripping into each other with hurtful words would make him quite satisfied as he knew he could say whatever without you actually taking it serious.

-In some weird sense, you would both weirdly sorta bond through it all though. Your joking insults, teases, and snickerings were a way of bonding with each other. He knew that. You knew that. Everyone else didn't and they were confused when y'all would start insulting each other and then laughing about it.

Levi

-Levi wouldn't have any issues with you joking around but he'd never laugh at it or any type of joke you'd make

-You and Levi probably started dating because of it though. You'd be wondering why Levi never laughs at your jokes and you'd then take every opportunity to tell a joke to him that you could. Sooner or later it might've sprung into a closer relationship because of the amount of time you spent together while you told your 'shitty jokes' as Levi called them

-He probably did figure out that you only stuck around him in an attempt to make him laugh but it flustered him a bit on how much effort you were putting

-You still probably wouldn't get a luagh outta him but you'd both end up getting together sooo yeah

-Moving ooon he probably wouldn't take part in most jokes you make but he would make some of his own, insulting people of course but you found it funny with his deadpan face so he saw it worth it

-Although he usually wouldn't partake in jokes you made, he would take part whenever you'd make shit jokes. He would continue them with a straight ass face which made it even funnier in your opinion.

Mikasa

-She honestly probably didn't care for your existence when first meeting you. Her first impression was that you were just some eccentric jokester who thrived on attention

-However, she was definitely easier to get a small chuckle out of than Levi

-Sometimes she did actually consider your jokes funny and although she wouldn't react too big all the time, she'd still sometimes react with a small smile or small laugh

-Everyone would probably be confused as to what Mikasa would find funny with you and why she seemed to not mind your presence and jokes but no one questioned it

-It honestly was probably you who initiated anything more than that though. She never really tried to get to know you on a much personal level apart from your jokes

-After your attempts and her decision to give it a try, she started to partake in your jokes much more often and add to them

-You were most likely the energetic one in the relationship though. She'd add to your jokes but she'd never start it herself.

-You both are honestly probably the complete opposite but she doesn't really care much. She loves you and your stupid jokes so that's all that matters to her.

♥ Thank you for reading ♥

I miss writing so much 😭 Requests are opened for our favorite Ackermans so ask away! I mainly do headcanons though ^^

#kenny ackerman #kenny ackerman x reader #kenny ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi x y/n #mikasa ackerman #mikasa x reader #mikasa x y/n

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hi cas, it’s grieving anon. Here for the vibes today. TAYLOR SWIFT… I mean… 

So, ive had a few weird things happen. I got distracted and fell over, and injured myself so yay… and then I had the weirdest thing happen.

So I mentioned I got nightmares right? That I woke my mum up by shouting and sitting up in my sleep. So I have a bunk bed (small room- needed space for a desk). And a few days ago I had this creepy dream and legit propelled myself out of bed- still half asleep and panicking. Then had to climb back in. 

And last night I literally crawled from lying down to the other end of my bed and climbed over the bars and fell OVER and OFF my bed to the floor 😭

You know the length of like, a normal door? It was like that far that I fell. I woke up both my parents. 

IM 16! I shouldn’t be flying out of bed. Luckily i’m not too hurt tho. I remember the dream, I was just climbing over a fence, I couldn’t feel the floor but I knew it was there so I let go, and then I WOKE UP ON MY FUCKIGN FLOOR. 

Like whyyyyy.

Anyway. So Long, London. My first favourite. “HOW MUCH SAD DID YOU, think I had, did you, think I had in me, HOW MUCH TRAGEDY?”

Then, of course, I Can Do It With A Broken Heart. AMAZING. Yes.

And, Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? 

So far, they’re my fav but i’m sure the others will claw their way into my heart too. 

Anyway, my sisters been annoying me. She seems annoyingly fine. She called all the injury’s i’ve been getting “pre-exam” injuries… NO! They’re post fucking death injuries. 

I know her, I know she’s suffering in silence. But it means whenever I see her, she seems fine. And it’s fucking annoying. 

I don’t know anymore. My mum, she said her nightmares went away after my Nans death when she went to a grief therapist or something. i’ve never gone to a therapist. I don’t know how it’d feel. And, I don’t really have the time. 

But I don’t want to wake up on my floor again. 

I feel like I blinked and my life became this mess I can’t control. And I have no energy to anymore. I lost all my fire. I used to strive to learn and care and participate. Now i’d happily rot away. Why bother. 

Anyway (that’s like the third time i’ve said that now 🤦‍♀️) “IM JUST GETTING COLOUR BACK INTO MY FACE IM JUST MAD AS HELL CAUSE I LOVED THIS PLACE” 

Writing these at the end of some of my days has been very stress relieving so thank you. I’ve bullied myself into not picking the scab on the horrid massive cut I got from falling over. I’ve refrained from pressing into the bruises I got from sleep falling/climbing off my stupid bed. 

“IS IT A WONDER I BROKE. LETS HEAR ONE MORE JOKE”

 This isn’t even my usual music vibe 😭

“DONT YOU WORRY FOLKS, WE TOOK OUT ALL HER TEETH” Iconic. 

“YOU SHOULD BE. YOU SHOULD BE.”

“YOU WOULDN’T LAST AN HOUR IN THE ASYLUM WHERE THEY RAISED ME”

Literally everything i’ve tried to do this week has failed. School work, running, sleeping.

I’m so tired. 

Hi hon! I'm so glad to hear from you! <3

Nightmares after a loss are SUPER common, and you're right to know that they don't have to do with exams. As far as therapy, I know you said you don't have time, and I used to say the same thing but then I got to thinking...

I wasted SO much time being sad, run down, anxious, depressed. Like I probably spent at least an hour a day in anxiety paralysis, you know? So devoting an hour a week to STOPPING those symptoms actually saves me time, in the long run.

It may not feel the same for you, but it's something to think about! <3

I'm so glad you like TTPD. Using music to cope is also super helpful. Screaming lyrics is so...emotionally rejuvinating.

Keep messaging me <3 I'm thinking of you!

#ask #asks #ask cas #gri #grieving anon

[sunsetsixx]

oh my god yall. i do not even know where to begin so here’s some word vomit about my night last night 🫠

i have no voice this morning. mission accomplished

joan jett absolute QUEEN but wbk. homegirl sounded like a whole studio album

posion was SO MUCH FUN. bret is an iconic frontman & i wish i had half the energy he does

also…dick print 😵‍💫

i think i may have fallen in love with cc deville & his long, luscious hair

def leppard KICK ASS. my guy joe elliot can SINGGG

however i do wish they just cut the acoustic section altogether like ive seen other people say…a dude in the row in front of me fully fell asleep 💀

now to what everyone’s been waiting for…(probably not but ill pretend) my thoughts on MOTLEY FCKN CRUE

they were real. like real people. breathing my boston fenway park air. in front of my face. i still cannot even begin to process

i screamed & cried & danced my way through their entire set like a PSYCHO & at the end the lady next to me goes “i can tell you’re a huge crue fan…im so happy you got to experience that” AND I TEARED UP EVEN MORE

all 4 of them are so. much. fucking. hotter. in. person. holy. shit.

daddy sixx omfg. his black & red fit ft. the iconic back pocket raccoon tail had me foaming at the mouth

im not even joking you i almost collapsed when vinnie walked out in the kimono & the aviators & the SCRUFF ive said it once & ill say it again that man is STUPID HOT rn

basically they just fueled my fantasy of a vinikki menage a trois even more. moving on

THOMAS LEE BASS SHOWED HIS TITS DURING TITTYCAM

mick mars is god. that man deserved far more screen time than he got. his hair is luxurious. his hands are magical. do with that sentence what you will

I GOT TO SEE THE QUEEN HERSELF MS RUBY SIXX IN PERSON. she ran out onstage to give nikki a hug halfway through the show it was PRECIOUS 😭

important observation: vince’s pants are so much more sparkly in person

BAWLED MY EYES OUT DURING HOME SWEET HOME & i got to see vince & nikki do their lil in sync hip sway thing irl that ive gif-ed 87 times so i can die happy basically

the dirt goes SO HARD live

i spent far too much money on merch but i got the poster & i am beyond excited to get it framed <3

overall it was a 1000/10 night & i just feel so lucky & grateful i got to finally see my favorite band. literally gonna be on cloud 9 for the next 6 months

my mom told me i need a shirt that says “i went to the stadium tour & made it everybody’s problem” …i couldnt agree more 😌

#m talks #the stadium tour #the stadium tour fenway #nikki sixx #vince neil #motley crue #mick mars #tommy lee #mötley crüe #the dirt #motley crue live #poison #bret michaels #def leppard #joan jett

[nightcolorz]

Just want to say I enjoyed Millenia Gate tremendously and can’t wait for the next update. Appreciate if I could hear your thoughts on its themes too!

omg thank u so much 😭😭😭 shakes and sobs. every time someone tells me this I ascend to heaven. U r playing a bold game asking me this bcus u r unleashing a beast rn. Ty ty for sending the ask lol even tho I said I’m always itching for some one to ask me about this I had no idea someone actually would 😭 bless u ur my favorite guy. I am going to go on a whole essay rant analysis of my own fic now praise god. I am going to give u not only my thematic thoughts but my millennia gate backstory cuz they r very tired together lol at least to me.

(for outsiders millennia gate is my tvc au about tvc characters getting cancelled for being problematic influencers. Armand makes an expose video about marius Lestat gets involved and everyone finds out he’s insane it becomes like a mystery daniel is there it’s a great time)

so millennia gate truly was initially intended to be a straight up comedy. A dark comedy inherently cuz the subject matter is so dark, but still a crack fic with little substance that I was doing for pure goofs. I literally decided to write it as a stupid inside joke with my then friend now boyfriend @the-vagabond-angel bcus we had a joke about marius making a Colleen ballinger style “apology video” where he plays the lute instead of the ukulele. We even wrote marius version lyrics it was really funny 😭 I wish I remembered what they were cuz they were top tier truly. But yeah that prompted vagabond angel to be like wow wouldn’t it be so funny if tvc characters were influencers who get cancelled, and that prompt alone caused me to start spamming paragraphs of ideas about what the tvc characters would do to get cancelled and how they would play into each other drama wise, all centered around the initial idea of marius grooming Colleen balligner none apology. Angel was like “wait have u thought of this before??” And I was like no I am literally just now coming up with this u unlocked smth within me. This was in the middle of the night so I went to sleep and then right away the next morning I woke up and wrote over 7,000 words in the day. I was literally none stop writing, with my silly jester the vagabond angel in my ear like the devil on my soldier live reacting as he followed along on our shared Google doc. I think my manic writing was what prompted this uncontrollable meaning to emerge, that I wasn’t truly aware of until I was at the end of the first chapter.

I was surprised at myself by how serious it gets 😭 bcus I earnestly intended it to be purely light hearted. I think while I was writing I, consciously or otherwise, registered that I took these characters and these topics very seriously and it would have to take some disingenuous effort to not do so in my writing. I started reflecting on the cognitive dissonance of internet drama as a culture, bcus it was rlly reflective in my writing in a way that I couldn’t ignore. I spent an entire day writing about grooming and abuse, and I barely registered that until I wrote Armand’s video, which felt like being possessed by this tragic spirit almost, and I realized huh. This is what online discourse is like. The first chapter of millennia gate ended up being really unintentionally impactful, I’ve been told, bcus it’s so funny and then u just get hit by the reality at the end like a train.I’ve always been very involved and personally affected by online drama and cancelling and all those things, I find it very entertaining and sometimes very triggering and upsetting, and I think I fully was able to conceptualize my relationship with that through writing this fic. It was meant to be funny, but it turned into sort of grotesquely funny and sort of seriously upsetting at times. There’s this constant tonal whiplash in millennia gate of the internet users engaging with the drama and the perspective of the people involved that always feels sort of cruel while I write. I am always thinking when I write the little tweets and the tumblr posts YouTube comments etc, “these people don’t care about armand, these people don’t care about Lestat, this is not real to them, this is a hypothetical scenario that they can leverage to make a point, or this is a reality show or an absurd soap opera they watch for guilty pleasure entertainment, this isn’t real to them, they don’t care.” Whether it be me writing a joke post or me writing a sensitive discourse posts, they rlly do not care.

and that’s just how the internet works really, it doesn’t make anyone who engages with discourse or drama online an unempathetic person, etc. The way influencer culture and internet culture in general works requires this distance, were we as the consumers see everything, wether it be a tiktok or a person having a mental health breakdown before our eyes, or talking about there abuse, as entertainment. Even if u aren’t making it a joke, even if u r posting about how concerned u r for Gabbie Hanna or someone or watching commentary videos analyzing the weight of the situation and making intellectual conversation about the broader cultural and societal implications of whatever moral argument is taking place through the lens of someone’s life—-it’s still entertainment. I know! I love video commentary about online drama, my most watched genre of video dead ass. It’s not anything wrong with us, our brains our hardwired. We go online to be entertained like we turn on the tv, but these are not actors being paid, these are just people without any workplace safety percussions making sure they aren’t being hurt, who are given the sort of social responsibility and weight an actor would be given, a professional. These are not professionals! 😭 and I don’t mean like Jeffery Star, someone with wealth and a career, I mean the guy on tiktok who went viral unexpectedly or that animator on YouTube who got cancelled for making vent art as a teenager. This results in this trivialization of real events, true crime told like spooky stories while the teller does her make up. A memeing of someone’s grooming, a trend of making jokes about an abuse scenario. Analyzing real ppl like they r characters in a book, dissecting motives, arguing over who is the better person. I intended there to be this rlly whiplash-y tonal shift from the end of chapter 1 to the beginning of chapter 2. We go from armand talking very graphically about his own abuse instantly to girls on tiktok arguing over whether or not it’s offensive to find armand hot. It’s almost absurdly funny 😭 these girls do not care about Armand’s abuse, they rlly don’t, even if they think they do. They don’t know him! He’s a character to them!

then with this culture u get scenarios of children who were raised on the internet growing into young adults who’s perception of how socialization and validation works is through the lens of marketing urself like a product and shaping ur own identity for entertainment. We have 10 year olds making glow up videos on tiktok, 12 year olds who barely hit puberty making sure that there fandom opinions are non problematic and the music they listen to isn’t made by assholes so that they aren’t bad people. There’s a constant prevailing set of eyes when u use the internet that it’s almost Catholic, and it’s fucked up the generation raised in this environment in such a new way that no one knows how to react to it. Things just aren’t real anymore to the internet generation. We have people filming each other and posting them online to laugh at. And even if ur not doing that specifically u still kind of have that mindset if you’re on the internet long enough, of everything I do is to be consumed or for me to consume, everyone is a celebrity and a public figure and everyone is responsible for there image.

for armand, a character who in canon is conditioned through his whole life to believe that he is meant to be used by others for a greater purpose or a god, this makes sense. Millenia gate Armand’s god is social media, he was groomed and manipulated ofc online, but then shaped into a public figure when he was too young to know if that was even what he wanted. He lived on the internet as a kid bcus it’s the only place where he had validation or love, and it’s created this way of being that centers devotion to a brand that is ur identity rather then a healthy sense of self perception. Then he finds his community of friends online who he changes his name for, rebuilds himself, rebrands, bcus that’s rlly what identity is to him, a username and a profile. To me Armand’s cult shit is almost like aesthetic trends for modern teens, the reworking of ur personality and ways of dressing and behaving for the sake of conforming to an established identity and aligning urslef with a crowd just like u. Armand is like those people who r always reworking themselves to fit a new aesthetic, just so much more overtly sad, lmao. In modern day Armand is on the road to healing by condemning his abuser etc, but the only way he knows how to do this is publicly for an audience, that’s literally how he was raised, like a performer always preforming. Lestat is this but worse, while armand resents the culture but can’t escape it bcus it’s so inherent to him, Lestat is addicted to it. His only validation and primary comfort source is having fans who love him, and preforming his own self in a way that is entertaining for people. Without that he wouldn’t know if he was even lovable at all. That’s why Lestat is always posting when he claims to be taking a break, he has no way of taking a break, he doesn’t know what he is without his social media presence. He doesn’t know if he is capable of being loved if he’s not being praised by strangers online!

I could talk about Louis but I don’t want to spoil 😭 but to a degree every characters story follows this theme of an always performer. Even so, louis is a bit of an outlier. Louis is mentally unwell in a different way, not to give too much away. He is a performer yes, but more so in the sense that he is scared of back lash to the point of neuroticism. He obsessively needs to be perceived as a good person, or a normal person, probably the type of guy to make lists of writers you shouldn’t support bcus there books are problematic. Not because he is empathetic, or cares for social justice, but bcus he wants to be considered someone who has these traits, he wants to be respected as someone who isn’t bad. Louis didn’t grow up on the internet like most of the cast so he’s a bit of a different beast, I’m so excited to officially introduce him in chapter 6. We r going to get into rpf, it’ll be wild.

In conclusion uh, millennia gate started out as a crack fic and ended up as a pretty serious dark comedy about the inherent dissonance of online drama and the exploitation and the trauma of existing in a digital age, ppl who grow up with there validation coming from strangers, etc. remember! Do not trust anyone in this fic no one is good <3 no one is more right than the other person. I had a cameo in chapter 5 (my private Instagram account did at least) and my actual self insert doesn’t even reflect my opinions 😭

thank u sm for sending this ask I love u to bits. I’m sure I could say more but I don’t wanna disintegrate all ur brain cells lol. Millennia gate readers I love u guys sm and if ur ever anxious about me not updating in a while fear not, this shit is my passion project, I will never abandon it. I just have life to tend to unfortunately 😭 and currently have to tend to other things im writing. Read millennia gate here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48408403/chapters/122098564 it is so good u guys.

also fun bit of rlly embarrassing trivia, I have been misspelling millennia wrong this entire time. There r two n’s. It’s not millenia. It’s too far to go back now so everyone just pretend that my misspelling is a comedic reference to the online realism misspellings in my fic and be done with it plz sobs and explodes

#Millenia gate #My writing #tvc #the vampire chronicles

[my-best-friends]

Dear blog,

After the 10+ years I've known my bff (my crush and absolute love of my life) I've become fluent in their language. No, I don't mean English or Spanish or Korean...... I mean that I understand what their words mean.

I know that when they speak with their dry wit or borderline rude comments they're not supposed to be taken at face value. Because everytime I tell them an idea I have, they say, "That's stupid." But I can hear it in their tone, the way they pronounce the syllables and even the look in their eyes. They say, "That's stupid.", but the translation is, "Please, don't do that. You might get hurt."

And everytime I disguise when I say, "I love you", as a joke; they mumble that gruff, "Cállate, idiota." And I can tell by the way they refuse to look at me and the way the tips of their ears flush that they really mean, "I love you too." They don't know that their ears always give away the truth because I haven't told them. It's a treat for me to enjoy and knowing them, they would just cover their ears with their hair to hide their ridiculously fortified heart...... the heart I've been striving to hold and protect for years.

I remember there was one time I disappeared from our friend group when we were at the mall. I stepped away for a moment to browse a shop while the others chose where to eat and I saw that my bff followed me. They didn't say anything, they just trailed behind me with their hands shoved into their pockets looking around like they were expecting someone or maybe just avoiding eye contact with everyone (they're pretty shy around people). I asked them why they followed me and they just shrugged and said, "Can't let you out of my sight. You might do something stupid unsupervised. You're clumsy as hell....." and it took me a minite to understand what they meant. I replied with a quiet, "Jerk.", but couldn't help but blush. I knew what they meant. My bff's words meant, "I need to protect you in case something happens. You might get hurt."

Throughout the years I've realized how super lucky I am. I'm the exception. I'm special because eventually when my bff finally got used to me clinging to them like a koala, they spoke so sweetly to me. Hushed whispers in my ear, only meant for me to hear. I remember I would take naps during lunch curled up on their lap and they would hold me close and whisper quietly into my hair. I found this out one day when I was being lazy. My eyes were closed as I leaned into their chest as I guess they thought I was asleep because I felt the gentlest touch ever. They were softly running their fingers through my hair and humming a song. For context, my bff doesn't sing, hum, make voices, nothing. They barely talk, they're really quiet. So when I heard them hum gently into my hair I fell way harder for them. They sounded shy but so comforting. So from that point I started faking napping on them and it was the best decision I ever made. They would hum and quietly sing to me songs I've never heard that I fell in love with (if only I knew spanish 😭).........

So after the years I've spent slowly breaking down their walls, they're still snarky and mean 🤭 but they're actually really sweet with me! When we talk it's always, "Hey, dork." or "what up, homie?" (We haven't seen each other in person in a really super long time) And now when they message me they say "missed you, cariño.", or "Message me when you can, querida." Ajahshhwjzijwjdklfjfne 😳😳😳😳

OK so I told them I don't speak Spanish a long time ago and I guess they just assume I don't bother looking up the meaning of those words but I did and HOLLLYLYYYYYY SHSHHITIITITTTT!!!!!!! I'm in love, I've been in love, I will die loving them. Call me delulu but i am their's and they are mine. Fight. Me.

UPDATE: I've been seeing so much spiderverse stuff all over socials and I've come to terms with the fact that I am in love with irl Miguel O'Hara. Thank u for coming to my Ted talk.

Until next swoon,

Yama ❤

#i just realized #im in love #with #irl #miguel o'hara #😳 #he's the loml #im a simp #head over heels #androgynous #just ranting #one sided crush #romantic #secret crush on you #i need heeeeelp

[inaworldlikethis52]

Yesterday was a fun day but I have things to say LOL

First lol. I’m actually so surprised he was up LOL I was so nervous about that. But I literally told him I hope he’s up. And we confirmed twice and he texted in the morning.

He didn’t wish me Happy Valentines Day but it was not expected from him.

And lol at me saying it to him and giving him veggie sticks only for him to throw it in my back seat? And no thank you lol but I think he took it as a joke, which I mean I guess it was.

I also decided not to give him the card. I think it was a good decision not to.

The walks were very nice and the waterfalls were beautiful and I finally got a picture with him 😭 I was surprised he was okay with taking a pic with me.

On the way back I did wonder like what else would happen? Am I going home or will he invite me in. Lol.

He ended up inviting me in and I changed into more comfortable clothes which he was like uh wtf? Lol. Though I didn’t see like it was anything ??? I’m not gonna cuddle up with you in my sweaty clothes lol.

He put on a movie while he cooked dinner which was nice. He does that though when I come over but I’m just remembering how I thanked him for doing that and he said “I’d do it for anyone” which made me uneasy bc I’m not just anyone??

Dinner was good but we were also so hungry lol.

We tried to continue the movie but it wasn’t working on his laptop. A bit strange but then we ended up “hooking up”. It was maybe one of the best ones yet, though of course we made the stupid mistake of taking off the condom. It’s really a horrible decision and next time I do need to ask him if he’s sleeping with anyone else. As much as I do really like and care about him, I don’t think he 100 percent feels the same way about me and us continuing to have unprotected sex is not what we should be doing. Condoms are just not comfortable for me though. So if I can have that conversation of “am I the only person you’re sleeping with” and if I am and hopefully he’s honest with me, we can continue and just be careful. That scare should have taught us a lesson. But 2 rounds of it and successful rounds since he finished both times lol. It was a good night of it. But I 100 percent need to ask him bc I need to know that I’m safe with him. I’m literally putting my life at risk each time we have unprotected sex. We had a scare already and I know a baby is not what we need.

While laying in bed though I did notice a message thread from that Aussie girl. And this is where I have something to say. Okay. Should I have been looking at his messages? No. But he opened it up in front of me and he knew I was looking at his phone with him.

I caught some of it. He mentioned he was feeling like shit at the moment and need to move.

Not exactly sure what he meant by that though.

And her reply was “i feel like shit too if it makes you feel better….etc”

I don’t know the history between them but I do know he went to the city to hang out with her. He mentioned they met while he was in Denver. And they were texting on new years and she was saying last year was more fun. Could they have hooked up? Possibly.

But he’s having actually convos with her. Like he’s more open with her while I get “I’m well you” and nothing else.

Obviously I won’t mention it to him or anyone but since I have feelings for him and he knows I do, it’s going to bother me a bit how he can have convos not just with her but other people and not me. I know I’m so quiet though but more of an effort to get me to open up too could help. Yes, I know I could also just talk but sometimes when I do I feel like he’s not listening or cares and this actually goes with other people as well.

It felt nice though just to be with him and not even talk, but is he okay with that too? Is he okay with comfortable silence or does he feel awkward when it’s like that?

It was 11pm and I decided I needed to go home. Nothing was wrong though I was really enjoying the time spent with him. But I knew I needed to go home or else I would have fallen asleep there and no lol.

The thing is though. He did tell me to text him, and I assumed it’s when I got home and I sometimes do that. And usually when I do he replies right away saying good night. This time when I got home though I texted him and then said today was fun was a good day and he didn’t reply. I mean. Maybe he took a shower and then saw the message and figured it was late to reply? Though it’s never too late to text me. And I’ve gone home way later and he replied so I thought it was strange. Maybe he’ll reply this morning but I’m not going to text him again.

He also didn’t walk me to the door lolol. And he used to before. Idk. I’m trying not to fully overthink this but I can’t help it.

I do appreciate him hanging out with me, especially on Valentine’s Day. I mean. To him, it’s just another regular day and he’s not thinking much of it. But he had to know what day it was and you don’t just spend it with anyone?

We spent the holidays together. Like we have to both care about each other right?

We also could have been each others valentines by default lol and just not fully talk about it.

Anyway. Back to work. I also took a half day just to spend with him. I don’t normally do this. But that’s what I would do for someone I like and care about.

[srslysierraa]

A Spoonful of You.” pt 2

Prompt ;; so you're a bit more chubby than some others, and what? you're wrong if you think that'll stop the daycare attendant(s) to stop thinking you're a delight, in fact, this is what they'll do. [part 2/2]

Type ;; drabble + headcanons, fluff.

Chars. Involved ;; moondrop. [fnaf sb] [Part 1 here]

A/N ;; if i accidentally post this again when it's not ready istg. anyhow, this is a part two to the previous one involving sunny! this one will be a bit longer however because i love moon i need to make up for making anon who requested wait for a part two on what was supposed to be a two in one post. all because of stupid post button >:(

Moondrop.

He's also honestly unfazed.

"blablabla I'm chubby oh noooo :((" shut up and go to sleep already so i can cuddle you without you knowing.

LMAO, joking, but he does get a tad bit annoyed if you were to complain about your body.

Like, what is the problem??? I do not see it??? Why are you upset??? You're very nice and attractive??? Make it make sense???

Just like Sunny, he will put both of his hands on your cheek and squish.

He thinks you'll make a great pillow for when he wants to nap with you!!

But if you dislike that then..

TOO BAD THIS IS MOON WE'RE TALKING ABOUT, you really think he'll say no? 😭

Even so, he doesn't show it that clearly but he does love your body.

He isn't as touchy as Sunny is so he won't latch onto you to squeeze you 24/7.

And also unlike Sunny, he doesn't get that upset if you say you wanted to loose weight to get skinnier.

I'm telling you, you could be a stick or a whole marshmallow, this man does NOT CARE.

He just likes the fact that you're nice to him, most people other than a few daring kids aren't.

But if you do tell him you want to loose weight, then he'll be upset not because you'll be skinnier or less squishy, but because he thinks you'd be more active and productive = less time spent with him.

Just like Sunny, he'll try to help!

By accidentally starving you. 😭😭

HE DIDN'T DO IT ON PURPOSE OKAY, he just sees you with your lunchbox about to eat and then he'll spiderman his way from the ceiling to snatch it from you.

Like?!?! Moon get down here rn i want my 2am dinner damn it. 😭

If you explain to him that you need to eat as long as it's not snacks or sugary stuff then he'll understand.

Which.. isn't that much of an improvement either tbh.

Oh a coworker is having a bday? Oh boy thank you for the slice of cake- SIKE.

"No sugar, doll. No sweet things."

Moon please that's like very expensive cake that I'll get to taste once every 10 years,,, please let me have a bite. 😔

You need to be secretive if you want a bite of that damn cake.

Careful though, because if he knows that you're disobeying him then uuhhhh.

Good luck my dear Chad.

Oh, and did i tell you he keeps track of your weight? He'll absolutely tell you when you lose a few pounds to make you happy!!

HOWEVER! If you're comfortable with your body and have no desire to change / go on a diet, etc.

Then he'll absolutely be happy knowing he can have you all to himself- and Sunny that is.

If he knows that someone is making fun of your body??

This can go two ways; one, an attempt at homicide with you stopping him.

Two, homicide.

Or ig he can just let ppl live ig 😒

Though he would grow foul of that person who made fun of you, purposely making their time in the Pizzaplex living hell to make 'em leave.

All in all, he loves you regardless of your size. but if he deems you comfy then get ready to ditch your tasks for Naptime!

#fnaf glamrock freddy #fnafsb #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #fnaf #fnaf moondrop #moondrop x reader #moondrop #sundrop and moondrop #security breach moondrop #fnaf sunnydrop #sunnydrop x reader #sunnydrop #fnaf x reader #security breach x reader #fnaf sb x reader #glamrock freddy x reader

[themand0lorian]

OKAY I SAW THIS PROMPT AND THOUGHT OF YOU AND YOUR WRITING. PLEASE TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT. "Character Doesn’t Expect Tenderness But Gets It Anyway" enemies to lovers pike or javi x reader where they’re competitive and she gets hurt without telling him 😭

hi anon!! I had some trouble with this, the prompt is more Javi but I always feel like my Javi characterization sucks :( but either way here it is!! hope you enjoy!!

this is part of @agirllovespancakes #7daynosmuthchallenge! I havent written smut in a while but I am so happy to see others participating/reading non-smut writing!

Wins and Losses

Summary: A not-so-friendly bet leads to a standoff between you and Javier.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female DEA!Reader (no Y/N)

Rating:  PG-13 (Swearing, Canon-Typical Violence and Discussion)

Words: ~4200 (AO3)

Tags: enemies to lovers, dumbass bets, blood and guns, Javi calls reader "stupid" but in an affectionate/friendly way, cursing, alcohol mention, hospital mention, Javi and reader are both assholes in the beginning

Notes: Heavily based on B99!

It hard started friendly enough; as friendly as you could be with one Javier Peña. A late night, huddled together in a booth in a run-down bar in the city, whiskey and beer and too much adrenaline flowing freely as you, Steve and Javi all tried to blow off some steam. The hunt that day had gone badly; a key player in the drug empire barely slipping from the DEA’s grasp after a foot chase. Steve was imbibing especially hard, having been the one to lose the man—you knew it wasn’t his fault, but he was taking it poorly, and you wanted to help.

“Steve, don’t worry about it. It happens—we’ll get him next time.” You had joined this fight just before Steve, and always felt some sense of comradery with him. His easy southern drawl, his little jokes; he was all business when he had to be, but Steve was also your friend—you were one of the only people who knew what it was like. To be shunned by Carrillo until you could “prove” yourself, to be given a backseat to Javier, to be coddled and babied like you hadn’t gone through the same training as everyone else. Many nights similar to this one were spent lamenting the DEA; Javier noticeably absent as liquor flowed freely.

“Yeah, I’ll get him next time,” Javier retorts with a roll of his eyes and a swig from his tumbler, as if to remind you he’s not absent now. Steve sinks further into his drink; between his issues with Carrillo’s trust and the failed arrest, you can practically see the downward spiral in his eyes. Javier Peña was really something else. Somehow inherently trusted by Carrillo, the DEA’s golden boy—and you envied it. All of it. Every passing compliment from the ambassador, the attention from other agents as he saunters around the office. You swear you do more than he ever does, that he swoops in at the last minute for the prestige of an arrest after you lay the groundwork for months. You could create an itemized list of reasons to hate Javier. 1) Cocky bastard, 2) Takes all the credit for your catches, 3) Sleeps with his informants, 4) Looks too good in those out of style jeans and polos—Either way, to see him now undoing any work you had done at comforting Steve was just another notch in his belt; unable to convey this, you shoot daggers at him from across the table.

“Oh, please, Peña. You would’ve lost him too, viejo,” you sneer, turning back to Steve. “It’s nothing, Steve.” Steve, and by extension, Connie, were your only true friends in Colombia—to see him struggling, to see Javier adding to it for no apparent reason, made your blood boil. Add it to the list of reasons to hate Javier Peña.

“I bet I could catch him before you could, Chiquita,” he retorts, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. You had eaten a banana in the break room one time, leading to the demeaning nickname—he knew you hated it. You had to guess that was why he continued to use it—add that one to the list too. He took a long pull from the cigarette before releasing the smoke, the lowered lighting and loud music heightening the tense mood. Fueled by alcohol, and a little bit of the anger and rivalry simmering in your heart, you could barely control what came out of your mouth next.

“Fine. Let’s.”

“Let’s what?”

“Bet on it.” Javier seems to mull over the words, stamping the ashes in the tray next to him as Steve silently takes another large swig. A pretty waitress comes over to refill his glass, and Javier eyes her up until you snap in his face for his attention. “I bet that, one year from now, I’ll have made more arrests than you.”

It’s hard to read Javier; he seems to run on alcohol and cigarettes, and the sultry music and dim lighting don’t help. He stares at you blankly, finishing off his own drink like a shot before speaking.

“Deal. What do I get when I win?” He smirks, and you practically growl.

"I don’t know, what do I get when I win?”

“You don’t want me to say out loud, Chiquita--not with Steve here,” he replies with a wink, and you exaggerate gagging. Deep into his own drinks, Steve interjects with a roll of his eyes, ready for the conversation—and, honestly, this stupid feud—to be over.

“Why don’t you guys write it down.” He pulls some official DEA envelopes from his back pocket; you can tell Javi is about to rib him for it, and honestly, you have no idea why he had them in his pocket either--but one thoughtful glare shuts him up. You each take a napkin from the center of the table; you make a show of tapping the pen to your cheek in thought before writing something down; Javier seems to scribble his idea immediately.

“How do I know she won’t change what she wrote?”

“Sign and date it, Javier. Seal it in the envelope, and we’ll give them to each other to hold on to so we can’t change them—I’ll keep yours in my purse. You can keep mine right next to that condom you keep in your wallet,” you scoff. He rolls his eyes with a sneer, but follows the instructions. He watches you slide your tongue across the glue, pressing the flap down and drawing a smiley face over the seal for tamper evidence; he draws a penis in the same place, satisfied with the childish gesture.

“There. Now you can get at least one dick in Colombia,” he grunts, and you gasp in offence; before you can respond, he puts your envelope in his billfold and throws down some money on the table; Steve does the same, shoving himself out of the booth. You catch him before he can leave, a gentle hand on his arm.

“You wanna join in on this, Steve?”

“Nah—” he saunters, looking to Javier at the exit. He sat between you both, but being so over the competition you were always inciting, he had barely paid attention other than providing the envelopes. “This is between y’all.” You nod solemnly, words unable to explain that you wanted to support him while also wringing Javier’s neck; he nodded in understanding in response, giving a sheepish roll of his eyes and walking to the exit to meet up with Javi, who slammed the door with a huff; the bell overtop jingling in its wake.

That wager was over 10 months ago now; if anything, the bet had caused rivalry between you and Javier to amplify. Sure, the three of you worked together, as a team; but when it came down to it, one of you was always out-running, out-smarting, out-lucky-guessing the other to make the bag. A heavy foot chase through back-alley streets, Javier splitting one way and you going the other—Javier nabbed that one. A sting at a bar where you fluttered your eyelashes and ground against the target on the dance floor—he was all yours. Steve was content to let you both do the heavy lifting, and truthfully, the ambassador was pleased--arrests were up, the cartels were going down, it all seemed like a win-win to him.

You were both always all business when it came down to the arrests; reading rights, dragging perps to waiting cars, fastening heavy metal cuffs. It was only in the privacy of the office, late at night when you were wrapping up paperwork, that the true contention came out. A snide remark that Javier ran like an old man; a sneer about how your heavy breathing following a chase made your breasts look nice. One time, when you slipped and fell after traipsing through a puddle, Javier held his mirth for 4 hours until he got the target through booking, then promptly dissolved into fits of laughter, unable to even get a sentence out.

So, ten months later, and the score was even—24 to 24. Obviously, not all of them were high kingpins, or even key players—but nothing was said in the bet about the level of the arrest, only that they had to be involved with Escobar. The score weighs heavily on your mind as you sit at an outdoor café with Javi and Steve, scoping out a target in a house across the way. You know tips have been slow recently, time stretching longer between arrests now that only the larger players were left; if you got this one, you would be set for at least a month, if not more. You could actually win this thing.

You’re so deep in these thoughts, you can practically taste victory—until Javier jumps up across from you, on his feet and gun in hand before you can even register the movement. Steve stands too, the two running toward the building—you figure they must have spotted the target during your daydreaming—and you curse under your breath, following along, though now at a disadvantage.

Steve and Javier moved into the house first, slamming open doors, shooting first—asking later. You followed dutifully behind, covering their backs as they took out a few cronies at the entrance. Surely the target had been alerted from the raucous; misfired gunshots ricocheting in walls instead of bodies tends to raise suspicion. The three of you move up the stairs slowly, hoping to be ready for anything, when you spy it—a back door.

You know this guy had to have heard everything; shouting in English, the sirens in the distance as backup approached. There was no way he would stay upstairs like a sitting duck. Desperate for the win, you broke from the group, instead sprinting toward the backdoor as the guys sprinted up the stairs. When you broke out of the house and into a back alley, you just barely caught a glimpse of your target rounding the corner out of sight; Javier must’ve, too, a muffled Fuck! coming from above as you begin to sprint after the man.

He knows you’re after him, heavy footfalls reverberating in the stone alleys. Your gun is at your side, still in your hand but your arms shake as you run, trying to catch up. Eventually, you corner him; a dead end, surrounded by buildings on three sides; you approach slowly, gun raised as you start to explain what you’re going to do; then, suddenly, searing pain.

You collapse to the ground almost immediately, gun thrown lazily on the pavement as both hands instinctively reach for your side. He shot you. You can’t believe he shot you. You can’t tell how bad it is, can’t see or feel anything but red and pain and agony, and when you get even a little coherence back, you grab your own gun again; firing aimlessly down the street, missing as the target rounds another corner out of sight. You can hear more muffled running, curses and grunts as you lay grasping your abdomen; you know the boys are close. You just have to hold on for them. You’re breathing heavily, mostly in shock, but a twinge in disappointment as you realize you led the man straight to Javier’s arms.

Disappointment morphs to misery as the pain seems to increase. Misery that you’ll never get to see what Javi bet. Misery that you’ll never see him and Steve again, misery that you’ll never get to smooth Javier’s worry lines and make his whiskey at the end of a long day, misery that you’ll never warm his bed. You scoff at the thought—you know you’re in shock, thinking nonsense—if only you could stand. If you stand, you’ll make it out, you’ll be okay—and you’ll have all the time in the world to crawl into his arms. Your attempt is futile at best, the pain so agonizing you crumble back to the ground, no energy even to cry out as you resume your position in a heap. You hear the men coming, you just need to hope Steve got him and not Javier, that Javier was okay, that he was coming for you, that he wouldn’t open that envelope unless he actually won—

“What the fuck, Chiquita? You let him get away? How could you be so—” Javier freezes for a moment when he rounds the corner and sees your crumpled form; all words and movement ceased as his brain misfires over and over. He’s running to you before his mind can catch up, shouting at Steve to call an ambulance, that he’ll take care of you—he practically skids to a stop in front of you, falling to his knees.

He’s unsure what he’ll find. He doesn’t see a lot of blood on the ground, but you didn’t react to his ragging, a sure sign something was wrong. He does his best to gently turn you to your back; breathing a thick sigh of relief when you groan in pain.

“’M’fine, Javi—did you get ‘em?” You mumble; Javier’s scanning your body for injury, eyes darting around until they land on the growing crimson stain on your blouse. Right in the side, puckered and gnarled; a graze through your skin.

“Forget about him, baby. I—I’m sorry,” he whispers, pressing harshly on your wound to staunch the bleeding. He pushes his own thoughts aside as you suck in air through your teeth in pain; his thoughts about how often he wanted to rest his hands in this exact spot, under different, racier circumstances. Javier lifts one of his hands from the wound to push errant hairs from your eyes, allowing it to fall softly to cradle your head. He can hear sirens on the main thoroughfare; stuck in the maze of corridors, he knows they’ll take a long time to get to you.

“Can you walk, baby?” he says quietly; your gaze is piercing him, eyebrows furrowed in what he thinks might be confusion but could actually be pain. He meets your eyes, both of you staring into the other, unable to say what you want; hoping to communicate with a look alone. When you nod negatively, he only nods in response, working instead to squat and lift you bridal style. You wince and groan as he jostles you, moving your hands to wrap around his neck. The last thing you wanted was to cry in front of Javier Peña; but, you had also just gotten shot, and each step he took seemed to aggravate the injury further. You knew it wasn’t on purpose, but still, the tears began to openly flow; you tucked your head into Javier’s shoulder to hide them, the salty water mixing with the blood staining is polo. He cooed to you the entire way; shushing, placating gestures until you reached the main street; a stretcher waiting for you. He placed you as gently as he could, but the movement still caused a choked sob to rise from your chest; EMTs and police moving in a frenzy around you.

You could only look at Javier—only be grounded by his penetrating gaze. As you left his warm embrace, his hand trailed along your arm, eventually connecting with your hand to squeeze it as used his other free one to brush tears from your cheeks.

“Don’t—don’t cry, cariño. You’re alright. You’re gonna be alright.” He looks close to tears himself; before you can return his gesture and wipe them away, the EMTs wheel you into the back of the ambulance, shutting the doors as you spare one final look to Javier. His shirt is stained with your blood, his body language knocked from cocky to defeated, and his face; his face is twisted into an emotion you can’t quite pinpoint as the doors close.

Six hours, two on-call doctors, and 14 stitches later, you’re released from the hospital with instructions to rest and come back in a few weeks for a follow up. The wound was mostly superficial, bleeding extensively due to its size but not hitting anything major. After the adrenaline has worn down and your emotions are back in check, you realize you can walk; you do so to get a taxi back to your apartment. It barely even hurts anymore, more like a deep cut or slice from your cooking adventures gone wrong, but you still wince as you walk up the three stories to your apartment. 

It’s late by the time you get home. Technically the wee hours of the morning, the complex is still and quiet, and the pull of your warm bed is strong. When you crest the stairs to find what you assume is a drunk man sitting on the floor in front of the front door looking aimlessly out the window in the hall, you instinctively reach to your side for your gun, realizing a moment too late that you had left it when you got hurt. The movement caused you to hiss in pain; the noise causing the man to finally look in your direction—you practically hiss again when you realize its Javier.

Neither of you say anything, barely exchanging a glance, but he follows you into your apartment silently when you leave the door open behind you. You pour him a glass of whiskey and a water for yourself, making your way back to find him awkwardly standing in the middle of your living room.

“How are you feeling?” he says quietly. You’re not sure you’ve heard him speak this softly before today, before this afternoon. In fact, you really didn’t expect any of the events of the day; getting shot, the way his hand felt cradling your head, the tenderness with which he soothed you before you were whisked away. It all makes your head spin, and you realize he asked you a question, mustering an answer.

“Just a graze. Doctors say I should be fully healed in a couple weeks,” you reply, sitting down on the couch to swig your water. Javier only nods, seeming to mull over your points.

“Good. Good,” he muses, running a hand over his mustache. “That means I can tell you how fucking stupid you were for not telling us you weren’t following up the stairs—” you can hear his voice change like a switch, whatever softness now lost to anger.

“Oh, I’m sorry, which one of us was right, Javier?!” you yell back, matching his tone.

“It doesn’t matter if you were right, it was a stupid thing to do! And now we lost him and it’ll take months to get him back!”

“Listen, Javi, I’m sorry you lost your catch but I didn’t get him either—we’re still even,” you roll your eyes, the air tense as Javier looks to you incredulously.

“You—you think this is all about the bet?! That—that this is because that asshole got away?”

“If not the bet, then what is it about, Peña?!”

“You could have died! You almost—fuck. I almost—we almost lost you, over some stupid fucking bet!” He’s running his hands through his hair as he yells, stopping on the next words to point an accusing finger in your direction. “You—you’re reckless, and stupid, and—"

“So what? Anything to catch Escobar, isn’t that what you always say? Or does that only apply to you?!”

“You know that’s not—” He looks taken aback, mumbling under his breath, so you continue, fury pouring from your mouth.

“Besides, who cares if I die, right? You’d get them all! You’d win!”

“God—how can you say that?!” He looks honestly hurt by your statement—you didn’t fully mean it, but it’s out in the living room now, and he continues, voice still raised. “I’d care! You stupid fucking—I! Would! Care! Don’t you get it! I--” You stand silently in the middle of the room, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t. His jaw practically snaps shut, his eyes darting over every facet of your face, and in the shocked silence, he moves toward the door, a deep sigh escaping his lips. Your voice stops him in the entryway.

“Javi.” He barely grunts back, but frozen in place, you know he heard you despite the sudden softness in your voice. He idles in place as you speak again. “Finish—finish what you were going to say.” Javier shifts from foot to foot uncomfortably, still facing the door as he seems to contemplate his options.

“I—I love you, okay? And I—I can’t lose you to them. I’ve already lost everything, I—I need—” His voice wavers--he hasn’t turned around, listening to your bare feet pat across the hardwood in his direction. “I need you. I need a—a win,” he pauses, gulping. He can’t see you behind him, but he practically feels your presence, all-consuming and palpable behind him. “Not the bet. You—you’re the win.”

You both stand in contemplative silence for a moment, Javier knowing he’s just put it all on the line. When you don’t speak, his hand travels to the doorknob, ready to accept yet another loss at his hands; instead, he feels you slip his wallet out from his back pocket. He turns slowly in surprise, one hand still resting on the handle as if he needs to make a quick escape as you unfold the wallet and pull out that crinkled envelope stuffed into the billfold. It has his name on it, written in blue ink and your handwriting, the smiley face drawn over the sealed flap proving it hasn’t been opened. You toss his wallet onto the entry table, handing him the prize you had sealed all those months ago. What he would get if he won your bet.

“Open it, Javier,” you say lowly, and he takes the envelope from you, downturned eyes unable to meet your face. He rips the seal slowly, almost afraid of what he will find, pulling out the tattered napkin from that little bar, eyes roaming the cotton and your scrawled handwriting.

“If Javier wins, I’ll finally tell him that I love him.” Below your wager, you have the napkin signed and dated like it’s a legal document, except for the small heart as part of your name. His eyes flit between your face and the napkin several times; before you can explain any further, he turns again, and you think you lost your chance as he reaches toward the door.

Instead of the door, he reaches for your purse, pulling your wallet out from the hook on the wall. He mirrors your movements, unfolding it to uncover the matching envelope to his, your name scribbled in his handwriting. Instead of a smiley face, the back has a crude drawing that you scoffed at showing the seal has never been broken. He hands it to you without a word; you know the instructions. You pull out the same matching napkin, written on in his illegible script.

“If she wins, I’ll ask her on a real date.” Like yours, its signed and dated at the bottom, untampered with since you made the bet all those months ago. You hold the napkin delicately in your hands, like it might disintegrate and this all might fall to pieces, looking into Javi’s deep chocolate eyes. You think he’s trying to say something with them, to convey words not quite formed in his mouth yet; you decide to take the plunge.

“I love you, Javier. I—I always have. All this rivalry, this stupid bet—it means nothing. When he shot me, all I thought of—it wasn’t losing the bet. It was losing you.” Javier gulps so much air you watch his Adam’s apple bob; suddenly, in several quick strides, he’s pressed to you, large hands cradling your face and chin. You can tell he wants more, wants to close the small distance left between you, but he hesitates, speaking instead.

“I—I can’t lose you, cariño. I can’t--”

“You won’t, Javi. You—you won this one,” you whisper, moving to close the gap between your lips. He meets you half way, his plush lips pressing yours chastely at first, hands heavy and cupping your face as he holds you to him, like if he lets you go you’ll disappear. The kiss quickly turns ravenous, all hands and tongue and teeth, the passion you’ve poured into anger and rivalry for so long finally coming out in its true form—love. Eventually, you’re forced to pull away for air, your chests heaving as you catch your breath.

“Does this mean the bet is over?” you chuckle softly, Javier releasing a broad smile as he rests his forehead against yours.

“Fuck the bet. I’ve got my prize right here,” he smirks, and you laugh harder at the cheesiness of it all, letting him pull you back for another deep kiss. He’s right—you both won.

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x y/n #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x you #javier pena x you #narcos #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #wins and losses #7daysnosmutchallenge