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feelbokkie · 19 days

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the one where chan "forgets" your birthday

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: slight angst, slight fluff

pov: 2nd person

description: in which chan thinks he forgot your birthday...but you just never told him

pairing: boyfriend!chan x reader

warnings: swearing, mention of eating

word count: 1,169

You slide your ID out of your wallet and hand it to the waiter. He skips over Chan for a second, ignoring the ID being held between his middle and pointer fingers. His elbow resting on the table, palm facing up practically begging the waiter to take his ID too. The waiter glances at him and finally takes the ID from him once he makes eye contact.

You fail to stifle a laugh at your boyfriend's misery. It's a thing that happens often now when you two go out. Almost every date the two of you go on where the occasion arises for the two of you to be carded, Chan normally doesn't. Especially when he's been working long. The only times you don't get carded and he does is during your very occasional trips to a club. But every week, without fail, the waiter will ask you for your ID and not him, much to his dismay.

Weekly dates, guaranteed time with Chan where you two go out and do some sort of couple thing. Not often do you two order drinks while out, but it's been a long week. Chan's been stuck at the company since your date last week and you were busy with work. The two of you hardly had time to text each other. How you two managed to find time to coordinate this week's date is beyond you.

You place your elbow on the table and rest your chin the the palm of your hand, watching Chan as the waiter double-checked your IDs. He looks better than he did last week. He looked beyond tired, his face paler than normal and the dark bags under his eyes more prominent than you're used to. It's why last week you two just spent a quiet night at your place, cuddling on the couch and watching movies until he fell asleep halfway through the second one. But he looks much more well-rested today. His face has a little more color to it. His black curly hair slightly framing his face. Finally healthy after years of dying and redying. He stares back at you with soft eyes and a smile wide enough to deepen his dimples. He quietly takes your free hand into his, squeezing slightly.

"Here you two are, I'll be right out with your drinks." The waiter hands both of your IDs back. You quickly let go of Chan's hand to take yours back and slip it back into your wallet.

"Thank you," Chan smiles as he puts his wallet back in his pocket.

"You're welcome. Feel free to take a bit longer to look at the menu." The waiter is just about to turn to leave before he suddenly stops and turns to you, "Oh, and happy birthday."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes and just plaster on a small smile. "Thank you,"

You watch as the waiter nods happily before walking off to tend to another table. You shake your head as you put your wallet away.

You don't notice at first, the way that all of the color in Chan's face leaves, turning him chalk-white. Or how his eyes quickly grow impossibly wide as his lips part in silent terror. You can't hear how fast the gears in his head are turning or how hard his head is banging in his chest. Not until you return your hand to his now limp and clammy hand.

"Chan?" Your furrow your eyebrows as you look up at your boyfriend, "What's wrong?"

"I...am so fucking sorry," He speaks with a suffocated whisper.

You tilt your head to the side and squeeze his hand to reassure him despite your now growing concern. "For what?"

His voice cracking and tight, "I forgot your birthday,"

"You--" You start.

"I'm so, so sorry--" Chan pulls out his phone and begins looking for something.

"Chan--" You try a little louder this time.

"--what kind of boyfriend--"

"Chris--" You try again.

"How did I forget it was your fucking birthday--"

"Christopher--" You place your hand on his, trying to get him to look at you.

"--I normally don't forget things like that--"

"Bahng Christopher Chahn," You nearly shout, finally getting his attention.

Chan stops and looks up, his eyes red and on the verge of tears. "I'm really, really sorry."

You look around the restaurant, taking in the atmosphere. The lights are dim creating a calming ambiance. The other patrons quietly talk amongst themselves. You can barely hear them over the soft classical music playing in the background. You and Chan are in a more secluded area covered by a plant to give you privacy from prying eyes.

"You don't have anything to be sorry about. You didn't forget my birthday," You say softly, stroking the back of his hand to calm him down, "I never told you when my birthday was."

"You...never told me? How is that...how did that even happen?"

Truth be told, it just never came up. You met after your birthday and started dating shortly after. With both of your busy schedules, it never really came up. You know Chan's birthday because of all the posts you see circulating on various social media sites by fans. His birthday is hard to miss, it's practically a national holiday.

"I don't really celebrate my birthday. It's...it's a long story. I'll tell you one day. But to me, it's just another day. You know I don't like that much attention on me anyway. I rather just let the day pass, without much of a fuss."

"That's understandable. It scared me though. I thought I forgot and I don't ever want to hurt you like that. You're really important to me. Everything about you is...even your birthday. But if you don't want to celebrate it, I won't push you." Chan takes both of your hands in his, lacing your fingers together.

"Thank you." You smile, "And I should have at least told you so you didn't have to panic like that. I'm sorry,"

"It's okay," He smiles, his dimples reappearing on his cheeks. "Want me to say something to the waiter so they don't do the whole dessert and singing thing?"

"If you don't mind." You sigh, relieved that you’re not going to have to ask Chan to do it for you later.

"I'll tell him when he gets back with our drinks." Chan presses his lips together into a fine line, “Can we at least go get ice cream or something later? I promise not to sing 'Happy Birthday' or anything. I just feel like you should still have something special today.”

You crack a smile, trying not to laugh at your boyfriend’s sudden sheepishness, “Yeah, we can go get ice cream.”

“Can’t I get you a gift? A small one?” He suggests.

“Chan,” You sigh, ready to argue back.

“Sorry,” He runs his hand through his hair. “I just feel bad still.”

“We’ll talk about it more later. For now, let’s just figure out what to eat.”

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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hunnylagoon · 3 months

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Take Me to War

PT1 Friendly Fire

Streamer! Ellie Williams x reader

A writer, I think is someone who pays attention to the world. We are observers, it is in our nature to be off-putting and turn shallow things deep.

Premise: Your neighbour is becoming increasingly loud and you decide to do something about it.

PT 2 Here!

Two things I hate the most?

My neighbour and New York City.

They shared something in common, they never rest. I liked my quiet life in my small town until I was convinced that all of the greatest writers lived in the city, what a joke. I sold my virtue to move to New York and now my body burned with the shame of not belonging.

I worked as a journalist and in advertisement but it didn't fill the gaping mass that consumed me, I felt like a sellout so I quit to do freelance, and now I feel like even more of a sellout. Freelance is making me think that I hate ghostwriting more than I hate my neighbour and New York City.

It's like you do all of the work and get zero reward but I'm desperate to pay the bills and all that stuff I've been telling myself all my life 'I may never be a rich man but the rich man will never have me' well, the rich man most certainly had me. I was paid an almost criminal amount of money to pour my soul into art just for it to get stamped beneath a new name and make a gross income six times the size of what I sold it for.

I look for happiness everywhere but I do not find it. I search for it in things everyone seems to pry joy from; I go clubbing, walk in Central Park, and date around, but happiness doesn't seem to exist there for me.

I plead for it in my morning cups of tea with a spoonful of honey, the sunshine glittering in a puddle after a rainstorm, for a brief moment, it flickers in the light of my cinnamon-scented candle. The truth is I am almost comforted by my sadness and it is in my lowest moments that my creations are the most beautiful, it is like I am dead and I despise those who aren't for I enjoy the company of my silence more than anyone I have ever met.

It was my dream for my name to be above 'New York Times Best Selling Author' but instead, it is just my work beneath it and maybe that's why I'm so bitter.

Right now as I am trying to salvage the bits and pieces I was given by a washed-up pop star for her memoir my neighbour is screaming and laughing incoherently in their apartment, it makes me miss living in an actual house.

The noise usually started up when I would finish up my writing and get ready for bed, then it would go all the way through the night. The dumb fucker probably threw parties every single night; my roommate never faced an issue with this as she worked at a club and was usually working when the deafening noises would begin.

I on the other hand who lived in that apartment and worked from that apartment was always cursed to listen to the random thumps and spats of laughter that sounded all through the night. At least once a night when I'm sound asleep, I hear a bang against the wall and each time without fail, I'm brought awake with my heart thumping.

Trust me, I have retaliated.

On occasion when I'm sleep-deprived and at my absolute limit I'll bang on the walls, that only stops the noise for a minute. I've even complained to my landlord and that one week was heaven until it eased back to the clamour that I've almost grown used to.

Almost.

I still hate it.

I'm broken from my thoughts when my phone rings, it vibrates till it's almost at the edge of my desk and I feel for it; don't worry buddy, I wanna jump too. I read the caller ID and I almost wanted to gag, it was a woman from the publishing company who reached out to me and asked me to write Nicole Elliot's novel. Despite wanting to throw my phone against the wall to stop Noemi's constant checkups and get back at my neighbour while I'm at it, I answer the phone "Hey, Noemi!" I glance out the window where the winter sun has long set, leaving nothing but billboards, street lamps and neon signs to light up the New York night. Under the unforgiving lights I can barely make out the gentle snowfall.

"Hey," She draws it out and I can hear in her voice that she is smiling "I know it's a little late, just checking in, how is the draft coming along?" A loud thump sounds against my wall along with intolerant cackling "What's that?"

"Just some street noise," I dismiss "Anyways, the draft is coming along great, I'm a couple thousand words away from finishing it. I will of course send it to you and I would really love it if you could reach out to Nicole and ask for her opinion on it before I carry on with the final copy," I give a middle finger to my wall, even if my neighbour can't see me, it makes me feel a little bit more formidable "I did follow her outline, which was difficult but I think I salvaged it pretty well."

This time there is a yelp from my neighbour and what sounds like someone slamming their hands down onto a table, Noemi thankfully ignores it "You haven't been in touch with Nicole?"

My eyebrows furrow "She hasn't responded to any of my emails and she's been turning down all of our scheduled Zoom calls, so no, I have not been in touch with her."

"Weird," Noemi comments and there is a brief break of silence between us "She's been M.I.A on our end too," I could hear her scribble something down. "So can you get the draft to me by Friday?"

Two days? If I lock myself inside and don't see the sun then I totally can "Absolutely!" I do work better under a deadline.

"Great," She sounds almost relieved "We will hunt down Nicole, it would be nice to get her greenlight with this but whether or not she approves it, she has already signed off and it will be going to print."

"Okay," I fight the urge to respond with 'sick' or 'aight' because I'm an adult now and someone who is masquerading as a professional.

"Sorry, what was that you mentioned about an outline?" Noemi asks, she sounds more confused with each word "I wasn't aware Nicole made any-

She is swiftly cut off by a crash from the other side of my wall, when I say crash I mean it. It sounded like someone just bodied their car into drywall. My eyes went wide as I saw a crack splitting up my once pristine white wall. I hold my phone against my collarbone as I get up and pound my fist against the wall, giving it a kick for extra measure.

"Is everything alright?"

"Certainly," The nice thing about phone calls is that the person on the other end can't see your awkward habits or subtle outbursts (Or neighbours breaking through your shared wall). After I hit the wall, everything went silent for just a second before laughter sounded heavily from multiple people. "Noemi, thank you for sourcing me out to write this, I am really grateful for this opportunity I will send you that draft on Friday." I try to wrap up the call but she speaks up.

"Well, I've read your work and I was very impressed, I trust you will do well with this. Sorry to have called you so late-

"Thanks, have a nice night now!" I'm talking faster than I can even think, the only thing in my head is the fact that my neighbour is slowly deteriorating my wall.

"Wait-

Before Noemi can finish her sentence, I've hung up the phone. I'm leaning back in my cushy office chair, hands gripping my hair as I stare down the newly formed crack in the wall. I don't entirely like to be confrontational, even in school I hated drama, but I was beginning to think it was necessary.

I saved the progress I had made on the memoir and pushed myself up from my desk. I was clad in nothing more than a t-shirt and some plaid pants, it was my writing attire and in the moment I didn't care much to make a good first impression. It was fucking freezing the second I got up from my desk.

The moulding on my bedroom window was broken which allowed the frigid New York air to slip into my room and make me shiver with each breath. At my desk, I would usually have a throw blanket to shroud my freezing body but the moment I discarded it, I felt regret. I almost wanted to wrap myself in it to confront my neighbour but the pyjamas alone didn't help me look tough.

I did however shove my feet into some cow slippers and march right up to their apartment.

Apartment 2D stood in front of me, the pastel blue door making me angrier with every second that I looked at it. I rapped my knuckles on the wood and crossed my arms to stop me from shuddering.

My nerves built up as I slowly heard a door within the apartment shut followed by footsteps leading to the door. I would just ask them politely to quiet down and calmly work on a way to fix the shared wall that they are slowly ruining.

The door opens and staring me down is a woman. I had expected it to be a man to be truthful. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, the colour teetered on the verge of auburn and brown. The woman is clad in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, it's almost parallel to my outfit.

"You need to be quiet," I say the first words that come to mind "And stop assaulting my fucking wall."

She sucks a sharp breath through her teeth "Are you apartment 3D?" She asks to which I nod "I knew you would be stopping by soon." She has this sheepish and almost sardonic smile on her face and despite the amusement she's portraying I can see sadness brewing in her green eyes like a storm.

"I don't know what you're doing in there where you are up all night, I don't even have a clue how you sleep and work with all this time to spare to be a nuisance." I say and then swiftly feel the urge to backtrack "I'm sorry, that was a little rude, but mate, I can't sleep or work when you're being loud doing whatever you do."

"Fuck," She mutters looking back into her apartment and then at me "I'm sorry, I'll keep it down."

"What about the wall?"

Her eyes look me up and down, settling on my cow slippers "I'll find someone to fix the wall."

I press my lips tight together, looking dead into her eyes, scraping my brain for something else to say. It was almost like I wanted to fight. I had expected this to be a full-out conversation that ended in yelling but god she was pretty and she was telling me just what I wanted. "Okay."

"Okay?"

I regard her once more with what I assume is a cold glare before ushering back into my apartment and slamming the door behind me, the whole time, my neighbour watches me from her doorway.

That was the first night of uninterrupted sleep I'd had in a month.

I woke up earlier than I would've liked when my roommate Margot came home from work at 4:56 on the dot. She made sure to slam every single door and cupboard before throwing herself onto her bed in all of her makeup and musty clothes that had to endure whatever happens at a nightclub between the hours of 8 pm and 4 am, which I can't imagine is very clean.

Still, even though I was a little ahead of schedule I fell into my morning routine. It started with ignoring my phone, this was followed by a mug of Bengal spice tea with a teaspoon of honey and a splash of cream.

Sometimes I would curl up on the couch, though it snowed last night and I loved fresh snow. Freshly fallen snow absorbed sound, it was like soundproofing for the earth. There wasn't anything like the rare peace you could find in New York. I figured I would have my morning tea on the fire escape.

My peaceful image was destroyed the second I pried my window open and crawled through I was hit with the intense smell of pot. "Shit," I mutter, instinctively wafting the scent away from my nose.

"Sorry, man," I see my neighbour leaning against the railing of the fire escape, nursing a joint. It hadn't crossed my mind that I shared a level of the fire escape with her, I had never seen her out here but now the smell of weed that drifted through the damaged moulding on my window made sense, I had always assumed it to be Margot.

"Joint for breakfast?" I ask, half-joking. A dusting of powdery snow adorns each step and railing, creating a delicate layer of white that contrasts with the industrial gray of the metal though it looks like my neighbour has pushed all of the snow off the platform.

"Nah, for dinner I guess, it helps me sleep," She's in the same outfit from last night, except her hair is now loose around her face and she threw a hoodie over her tanktop.

I furrow my eyebrows "You've been up all night?" The slight tension from the previous night has dissolved completely.

"Yeah," She says it like it was a stupid question and it partially was but I hadn't stayed up that late since New Year only because I was the designated driver and was in charge of getting everyone home safe. "I don't sleep much, that's probably why I keep you up all night."

I mean, I'd let her keep me up in other ways "Honestly, I've gotten used to it, it's almost like white noise." I try to sympathize even if it isn’t necessarily true.

"Next time I'm loud, you have every right to bang on my door and chew me out." She takes a drag from her joint and I watch as the smoke escapes her lips, her cheeks tinted pink from the cold.

"Good to know," I glance behind her at the open window and all I see are purple LED lights cutting through the darkness of her apartment. "Now I know that we share a fire escape I'll just crawl through your window and yell at you that way," I joke, taking a sip from my snoopy mug.

This makes her laugh in the slightest, she crushes what remains of her joint on the cold railing and tosses the bud into the pot of a dead plant that's covered in snow and has lived on this fire escape long before I moved in; one time I just about removed it but I felt bad, it's like I was evicting it from its rightful home "Feel free."

"Am I allowed to ask why you're up all night breaking the sound barriers?" I ask, pulling my fuzzy robe tighter around my body to fight the bitter air. "Are you the leader of a cult? Would it be better for the world in the long run if I push you right now?"

The corners of her lips curl up into a smile once again "You've figured me out, just know I've got some big plans with Koolaid," She plays into my teasing.

"It was flavour-aid, actually." I don't know why I said that.

"What the fuck is flavour-aid?"

"Koolaid basically," Silence stretches between us "So what do you actually do all night?"

"It's a bit complicated," She says, of course, it was complicated. "I work from home," She couldn't do something normal, she probably did voice acting or ran a podcast or some weird shit like that.

"Sick," Don't worry, I made myself cringe when I said that too "I work from home too."

"Yeah, you said something about work last night, are you in marketing?"

I shake my head "I'm a writer," every time I tell someone that, I feel a twinge of embarrassment. I know it wasn't a noble career like my parents had hounded me over, but it felt noble to me. I had two absent parents and was raised by a pack of wolves, I would devour as much food as fast as I could because I didn't know when I would be eating next. I was far too emotional to be around all of the narcissists who preferred their own faces to my company, the only friend I had was the written word.

Since then I have been serving my soul up to strangers through word documents.

The thought makes me homesick for the arms that did not hold me and I truly expect my neighbour to make a mockery of me, the way others have. The way they've told me 'It's a tough industry but hang in there!' and pat me on the back like I'm a hopeful child clinging to her mother's skirts.

"That's really cool," She smiles while she gazes out to the skyline, I can see her perfect side profile and ski-slope nose "I wanted to be a writer, I thought myself to be a poet, and then I thought myself to be a scientist and wanted to be an astronaut. Now, I'm here."

"Where's here exactly?"

"Working things out, figure it out as I go," She shrugs like she is unsure of her answer.

I think it's beautiful how everything around me has been touched by human hands and carries so much history. For a quick moment, my mind wonders to those who built this building, the calloused hands that crafted the iron railing and now my neighbour who was leaning against it. "What's the end goal with this whole freefall thing?"

"To make it out alive."

"And your name?"

"It's Ellie."

That night Ellie stuck to being quiet as she promised. The next night was a different story. I was so close to finishing the draft of Nicole Elliot's memoir and was praying that the deadline would pass with no issue.

However, the noise began again. I was coming around to like Ellie and I didn't want to go yell at her again so I shoved my headphones in and turned up my playlist as loud as I could. There is no song I can blast in my headphones to drown it out.

She did say that the next time I was loud I could come and chew her out, I wouldn't do that; I would just knock on her door and quickly tell her that she was being too loud, and then we would both carry on with our respective work.

I stopped in front of the smooth door and raised my hand to knock. Ellie slips the door open just a crack, when she sees that it's me she opens the door. "Hey, Ellie."

"Hello," She smiles "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She had a very nice smile.

We both know the circumstances of my visit but I spell it out anyway "Dude, you're way too loud, it's disruptive and I'm working under a deadline."

"I know, I'm sorry." She looks genuinely apologetic.

"I don't know any office job that needs you to scream for hours on end," Alright, that blows what could've been a simple visit where she apologizes and I leave, I always had to add on.

"Right, sorry," She carries herself with so much confidence that it is like she is wearing armour made of gold though she has these subtle awkward tendencies of someone who has never been loved and was forced to improvise. "It's hard to explain,"

"Yeah, you've said-

"Do you wanna come and see?"

I'm taken a little aback and for a minute I think this is all a ploy for Ellie to lock me in her her apartment and kill me because she is sick of her neighbour banging on her door "What?"

"Well, you've asked a couple of times and if you have a minute I can show you."

I pause, mauling over her proposal. I think of my laptop on my spruce desk, open to the final pages of the memoir and I make up my mind "Alright, just not too long."

"If you say so," Ellie opens the door wider for me to move past her and then shuts it behind us.

Ellie's apartment is what I had expected from her even though it is surprisingly nice. She has a large L-shaped sofa in the living room adorned with throw blankets and pillows and a huge flatscreen with a coffee table in front of it. The layout is exactly like mine but inverted, her open kitchen has some odd knick-knacks that looked like they belonged on an Amazon must-haves list.

I don't go into her bathroom and the door leading to one of the rooms (What is equivalent to Margot's bedroom) is shut. The apartment itself is pretty sparse aside from little bits and pieces as she only moved in a month prior.

On the left side, I see that purple LED spilling out of what I assume to be her bedroom.

She walks in ahead of me and the second I follow in after her there is one question I have to ask "Ellie, are you a porn-star?" There are entirely too many computers in here. Her desk is set up with one of those fancy triple-screen PCs and she has a laptop placed seemingly randomly on a white loveseat that's pressed against the right wall.

There is one of those galaxy lamps that projects that trippy shit onto your walls and ceiling. The screen of her PC is facing our shared wall and I can see a huge hole where I assume that a loud crash from the other night occurred. Plastered all over the walls are posters from video games and movies, many of which I hadn't seen.

"What?" She sounds nearly offended "No," she grabs a folding chair from the corner of the room and unfolds it beside her black florid office chair. She sits on the folding chair and motions for me to sit in the office chair. "Come, sit."

I hesitantly sit in the chair "Are you going to attack me now?" I ask, getting defensive for no particular reason other than it was in my nature "Because I've read The Outsiders and I'm pretty sure I can fight."

She chuckles "I'm not gonna fight you."

"Because I'd win?"

She furrows her eyebrows but has this look of amusement on her face "Yeah, definitely."

"So what is this?" I motion around at all of her equipment.

Ellie puts one earbud in then hand me the other "Chat," She says, looking dead at the camera clipped onto her PC "This is my neighbour who came to yell at me for being annoying, she has every right."

"Who are you talking to?"

"I'm streaming," She said, clicking something on the screen so it changed, instead showing Ellie and I in front of the camera, I looked absolutely lost next to a rolling chat bar full of jokes that I didn't understand and people saying hello to me.

"So I was right," I turn my attention to Ellie "You are an internet person."

"Yeah, I'm an internet person but you weren't right, I don't do porn."

"Not yet," I shrug "Times are desperate," To this, the chats come in even faster than before. "So do you just sit here all night and scream at people?"

"I play video games and do challenges, sometimes I do just sit here and scream at them."

"That makes so much sense," I say "If there's any job that needs you to be obnoxiously loud and annoying, it's a youtube personality."

"Okay, well-

"So you're like Logan Paul?"

Her eyes go wide "No-

"What explains why your eyes are so bloodshot."

"You are a writer," She says it like it's a fact I wasn't aware of "You are in no place to judge, you probably spend as much time in front of a screen as me."

I nod "I hate to say you're right," My attention shifts to the hole behind me "Can you explain how playing video games put a hole through the wall?"

Ellie looks almost embarrassed, she doesn't say anything in response, instead, she just clicks something to screen share with us in a little box in the corner and then goes into YouTube. She types in 'Ellie Williams falls through wall' My eyebrows furrow as I read it, and she clicks the first video that pops up.

The video starts off strong; Ellie is cackling at something that her friend off-camera is saying, her friend then makes a comment that makes her laugh even harder and she throws herself back in her chair. This act breaks it, you can hear the chair snap beneath the pressure and Ellie just lets it happen as the chair crashes against the wall. Her eyes go wide when she realizes she's just put a massive hole into the wall and seconds later you can hear me on the other side banging my hands on the wall. Her eyes go wide and she stares at her friend off-camera, all of the laughter stops abruptly before her friend can't hold it in anymore and erupts in chortles, and the video cuts off.

My hand flies over my mouth to fight back the laughter I so badly want to let out. Ellie and I sit wordlessly, the only sound being donations on the screen and my giggles slipping through. Eventually, I manage to compose myself and look to Ellie, I don't have much to say except for "Oh my god."

A/N: Streamer! Ellie won the poll so here we are. As I was drafting out the other chapters for When I Was Your Girl, I decided that it is most likely to be discontinued unless I do a rewrite which will not be in the near future. I’m not rocking with the plot and there was a lot of mixed feedback, sorry if you were invested I guess, but you have this series to be invested in now!

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nexysworld · 4 months

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Summary: Leon is sent on a mission to carry out a hit for the government. He hated these missions the most, but worst of all you weren't supposed to be there. You weren't supposed to see him. Pairing: ID!Assassin Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, canon typical gore, graphic depictions of murder, comfort sex, mild dubcon, unprotected sex, fem!receiving oral sex, soft sex, angsty sex, hurt/comfort/hurt, dark content, descriptions of wound dressing. WC: 5.2k

A/N: This was a birthday fic for the wonderful @elfven-blog. <3 Title from the lyrics to the song Sextape by Deftones. Edit: I also have a bot based on this fic now: Character AI | Spicychat

Read on A03 || Ask Box || Masterlists

Cool air bristled the hairs on the back of his neck, limbs tingling with the typical anticipation of what came next. Hits weren’t his favorite type of mission, not by a longshot, he wanted to save people, not kill them. But with experience came a certain professional numbness and a way to compartmentalize. It didn’t help that the locale for this affair was in the dead center of a suburban upper class neighborhood. Every home had that same limestone brick or white overlapping paneling. Every door the same mahogany brown, tacky lawn gnomes, overly green grass, white picket fences – the works. The possibility of witnesses was high, the escape routes limited.

Regardless, Leon was a professional, and he would make it work. He always did.

Tilting his wrist, he looked down at the gold rolex, it was a little past 2:30am. He listened closely, to ensure there was no movement inside. The double windowed back doors were his point of entry. The brass knobs were old, the locks inside not quite as intricate as modern ones, all it took was a good smack against the swiss army knife he’d jammed into it for the lock to click open. The door opened quietly, he made sure to not close it completely behind him to ensure he could make his escape.

The house had an eerie quiet over it, almost like the universe knew what was about to happen. Leon cracked his neck and let out a breath, careful to not touch anything as he moved throughout the lower floor, clearing each room. The kitchen was pristine, nothing out of place on the island or counter. There was no homely smell of food, only the lingering scent of some harsh cleaner. Not a sign that anyone had even been down there within the past several hours – a good thing, he noted. Through the archway came the living room, he had been hopeful someone had opted to sleep on the couch, separate targets were easier targets. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t so lucky.

The plush gray sectional was untouched, not so much as a divet into the cushion. The TV remote lay on the dark oak coffee table. Unlike the kitchen, this room felt more homely. The faint smell of some fruity air freshener was all over, the cherry walls were lined with gold plated frames of the family.

His target was some small town politician, Jackson Moore, normally somebody not noteworthy to the government in the slightest, but he made the unfortunate mistake of shaking hands with terrorists, facilitating the sale of some new viral invention through the local pharmacies. The idea of another Raccoon City incident made his stomach turn. He wasn’t sure who he held more anger for, the people like this person who’d bring it about, or the government that he knew turned a blind eye until now – the same government who wouldn’t make the effort to save the people who uphold it.

He shook his head, and pushed his bangs back refocusing for a moment. He scanned over the pictures. Most normal family outings, some graduation photos and holiday ones in there. Hunnigan had told him beforehand that all of the kids were off to college, none due back for several more weeks. The only targets in the house were Mr. and Mrs. Moore.

There was only one more room on the bottom floor, where he was sure his victims were, the master bedroom. Leon made his way over, silently padding down the short hall staring at the door. It was cracked, the sound of light snoring and the smell of mint wafting from the room. He peeked inside, letting his eyes adjust to the dark room, a string of moonlight the only thing illuminating the sleeping lumps on the bed.

He tested the door, it squealed slightly as it opened making him freeze. One of the sleeping forms moved slightly rolling over. He waited, still as a statue until he was sure that both still remained asleep before sliding himself through the narrow opening he’d made.

Looming over the sleeping forms, he pulled his gun out from it’s holster attached to his waist. Even with the silencer, he knew he needed to be quick. One shot would wake the other, and then it was a matter of speed. He cocked the pistol, taking a few more steps towards the unaware persons before him. The gun felt heavy in his hand, but he lifted it anyway, deciding to start with the official target first.

Will the trigger pulled back, the room lit up for a split second with the bang of the gun. Time slowed as he watched the man’s body jolt slightly, blood splattering onto the pillow, the walls. The smell of gunpowder and iron hit his nose. The man’s fingers twitched slightly before his movement stopped. Just like he had expected, his wife was awake instantly, though no noise came from her.

Wide eyed, she stared at Leon, then down at her husband next to her. Her mouth opened like she was trying to scream, but the noise was caught in her throat, tears welled in the woman’s eyes. Blood had splattered onto her too, some chunks of brain along with it dripped from her curlers onto her lap. Her trembling hands reached over to her husband, “Jacks.” She whispered, reaching over and putting her hand on his deformed face. “Jacks.” She leaned over the man, trying to scoop the bits and pieces of him back together.

Leon wanted to feel sorry for her, wanted to wonder if that’s how someone might react to his death some day. But he pushed those feelings aside, she was a target, culpable in everything just as her husband was. He lifted the gun again, pointing it at her.

As she looked at him, eyes wide with fear, her mouth formed the shape of a word. He didn’t need to hear it to know it was a plea. He pulled the trigger again.

Deadshot, like putting down an animal, between the eyes.

Her body crumbled over itself as she slumped forward onto the bed, the back of her head exploded open like a volcano of bone, blood, and brain matter.

Not dwelling on it, he put his finger to the device in his ear. “It’s done, Hunnigan.” “Good work Leon. I’ll make sure that –”

“Hey mom, you still up? I thought I heard something.”

The soft voice pulled Leon from his conversation, there were footsteps out in the hallway and the sound of a lightswitch clicking on. ‘Shit.’ He cursed to himself inwardly. He took a few steps back from the door, whispering to Hunnigan. “You said there were no other targets here.” “There aren't –” “The daughter is home.” “Does she know you’re there?” “No, not yet.”

There was a moment of silence on the line before she spoke again. “Leon.” Hunnigan’s voice was serious, she knew him well enough after all these years to know his thoughts. “Leave no witnesses.” “There won’t be, she doesn’t even know I'm here.” The sound of the fridge opening and closing indicated the girl’s location. “Everyone at the location is a target, Leon. Everyone at the location is a witness.” “Not if she – “ “Leon, this is an order.” “I can wait for her –” “Leon –”

“She doesn’t have to die.” “Dad, is that you?” The sound of his voice, despite him doing his best to stay at a whisper, must've alerted the girl. There was shuffling around on the other end of the line, the next voice he heard made his blood cold. The head of the D.S.O shouting into his ear. “Kennedy, this is an order, kill her! Complete the mission. Do you understand me?”

“Understood.” He said flatly, disconnecting from the call. In a worse stroke of bad luck, the door to the bedroom swung open nearly at the same time.

And there you were.

Glass shattering as it hit the floor, water splattering around as the light from the hallway lit up the room from the opened door. You trembled in place as you processed the sight of things. Leon was frozen where he stood too. You were an adult, but young, more importantly innocent in all of this. Rarely in his forced-on-him career has he had to kill someone completely innocent. Usually it was the partners of criminals, civilians caught in crossfire. But never someone as young as you, never in a situation so targeted.

He hardly registered the shriek you made before you bolted. Acting purely on instinct he took off after you, the delay of his own shock didn’t matter much when he noticed the slimy trail of bloody footprints from where you’d ran through the glass left in the hallway. His own boots crunching it against the ground as he moved. If you had been smart, you’d have turned for the front door, or even the back. Instead, nearly sliding on your own blood you went for the staircase, the one route that would trap you on the upper floor. You let out a yelp of pain, trying your hardest to only use your less injured foot to bounce up the stairs as quickly as you could, the blood matting down into the carpet with each step.

It didn’t take long for Leon to catch up, thumping up each one loudly as his boots made contact. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t take his gun out, why he was even letting you attempt this unwinnable escape, he also didn’t know. Maybe it was just delaying the inevitable.

He reached out for you just as you made it to the top of the stairs. A simple shove was all it took to send you flying into the decorative hall table that waited at the top. A sickening crack was heard as your head collided with the dark wood, knocking it over as you rolled over with a groan, dazed from it. Managing to prop yourself up on your elbows, Leon could see the trickle of blood that began to run down your eye and cheek, along with the starting to swell shiner from your high-speed table collision.

You scuttled backwards, as best you could, haphazardly tossing the vase that had fallen at him. It missed, and went crashing onto the stairs. Tears mixed with the blood on your face, diluting the color, only leaving the dry specs stuck there. You looked pathetic and terrified in a way that made Leon’s heart twist.

“P-please… don’t.” You pleaded, putting your hand out and up as if that simple gesture would be enough to stop him, distance him from yourself.

He couldn’t do this, at least not like this. He kneeled before you, cupping your uninjured cheek in his hand. “Shhhh. Shhh.”

“P-please… I won’t tell any–” “It’s ok,” he cooed. “It’s not my style to hurt pretty girls, you know that?” He added as he scooped you up from the ground bridal style. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. Getting his DNA all over you, getting your blood on him. This wasn’t a clean kill, this wasn’t what the upper brass wanted. For the moment though, he didn’t care. “Where’s your room, Sweetheart?”

You didn’t point or make a sound, your eyes darted from him to the cracked door next to him and then back to him as you shook in his hold. He wedged it open the rest of the way with his foot, before gently placing you down on your bed. It didn’t look right, all the blood staining into the fresh and plush sheets. It was different than your parents downstairs, the whole room screamed you. From the decor on the walls, to the laptop on the nightstand, your college hoodie hanging off the back of the chair at your desk. More reminders that you didn’t deserve this.

Before you could, he swiped the phone off of the side table, stuffing it into his pant pocket. “I know you hurt right now.” He said sweetly, “Give me a minute and we’ll get you all cleaned up, alright?” He gave you a moment to process his words. ‘What the fuck am I doing?’ He asked himself, as he held your hand, patting your arm gently. He could see the confusion in your eyes as the gears in your head turned to try and make a decision – timidly you nodded. He shot you his signature smile. “Atta girl. Stay here for me, no funny business.” Pointing a finger gun at you before he slipped out into the hallway and into the upstairs bathroom.

The suddenly bright lighting stung his eyes, he saw himself in the mirror, your blood speckled onto his jacket, some dried to his face. He looked rough, a cold sweat broken out onto his face, blue eyes distant looking back at himself. He splashed some cold water onto his face to calm his nerves before digging around to see if there was anything he could use to alleviate some of your pain, even if temporarily. The medicine cabinet was well stocked, though nothing would be enough to really combat the pain of your cracked head and torn up feet. He bit his lip as he grabbed some bandages and the bottle of peroxide.

First aide wasn’t really his specialty, but he knew enough from training. Along with the other supplies, he filled the empty cup on the counter with warm soap water, and took the washcloth with him.

To his surprise you were exactly where he’d left you, splayed out on the bed, looking scared and exhausted. Your head rested against the pillow, eyes staring up at the ceiling. “I’m going to take a look at your feet first.” Not that he really gave you the option, but you nodded in return. Leon was no stranger to gore, guts, and the rest, but something about them gave him pause. There was so much blood he could hardly see what was skin and what was glass. “It might sting just a little.” He assured, pouring the cold liquid out onto your feet. You hissed and squirmed a bit, but he placed his arm over your ankles to keep them still, watching as the peroxide bubbled, clearing away the redness of the blood. Small pieces of glass fell with it onto the now stained carpet. He opted to speak to you, see if he could get you to calm down some more while he worked, pouring more over the wounds. “You’re in college?” There was something about you that was indescribable to him, familiar to him, and he wasn’t sure why.

“Yeah.” Finally you answered with words, voice barely above a whisper. “Shouldn’t you be at school then? I thought the semester was still going.” He as he checked you over for any more obvious glass. When it was clear the peroxide had done it’s job, he took the bandages, gently wrapping them around your feet, gauze padding them.

“D-dropped out.” You squeaked out. “Last minute decision, had to come home.” He tied off the bandage before moving to look at your face. “School’s not for everyone. You’re probably better off without it.” Leon dipped the washcloth into the cup, wringing it out over the carpet, not really caring about the mess. He dabbed it gently against your injured face, helping to remove the remaining mess and to get a better look. Luckily the cut above your eye seemed superficial and the blood had stopped running, it was just a matter of cleaning up the dried mess that was left over. He was careful around the tender purple skin as he cleared as much as he could. “You have a boyfriend you leave back at school?”

“No. Never had one at all actually.” You replied, wincing when he accidentally touched a painful spot. “Never had one?” He asked more for himself than as a real question to you. ‘Hasn’t finished school, never had a boyfriend. This is so fucked up. She can’t be any older than Ashley was…’ He thought to himself, debating whether the court marshalling would be worth letting you go. In the same train of thought, he considered what would happen to you if he did. The government would probably send someone else just like him, someone less soft. He bristled at the thought, sitting up straight on the side of your bed. “That’s a shame, I would’ve thought a cute girl like you would be drowning in guys asking her out.” “Not really” You seemed to relax a bit now, well as relaxed as a person could be in your state. He could still tell from your blown pupils and 1000 mile stare that you were still in shock. Probably a good thing. “My parents are… were, strict.” Your face contorted like you were about to be sick at the memory.

Leon went back to stroking your cheek gently for comfort. “So no boyfriend, ever have your first kiss? First time?” Now that he had a better chance to really look at you, all cleaned up he realized who you reminded him of. Not so much Ashley, she was more strong willed and you didn’t quite look the part either. It wasn’t just the age, no…your voice, mannerisms, the way you looked. It was so very much her. Someone he hadn’t thought about since before even Raccoon City.

“Yeah. Wasn’t very good, some drunk frat boy.” You admitted leaning slightly into his touch. Silence passed between you both, nothing but the ceiling fan whirring above you. An automated air freshener spritzed roses and lilac into the air, barely covering the distinct peroxide and blood smell. Leon was surprised when you finally spoke again. “Why did you do it?”

The look on your face gutted him more than it should have. “I had to.” “Because of his job?” “Something like that, yeah.” “Did he deserve it?” “Yeah.”

You nodded, turning your eyes away from the ceiling to look at him. There was another tense silence before you spoke again. “Are you going to kill me too?”

He felt a chill ran over his body at the question. He leaned forward pressing his forehead to yours, moving his hand up to stroke your hair. “I don’t want to.” It wasn’t a real answer and he knew that, but it was honest. “Why are you being nice to me?” “I told you, I don’t like to hurt cute girls.” “That’s not it.”

How you read him for filth like that he’ll never know. “You remind me of someone.” He leaned back just enough to look at you again, but kept your faces close, so close he could feel the warmth of your breath on his face. “Who was she?” “My first girlfriend.” He admitted. “What happened to her?” “We broke up.” He said with a short laugh. “Right before my very first day as a cop.” While the conversation was far from appropriate for the situation, he supposed it worked to calm you down more as he felt you relax into the bed. His internal struggle was still playing tug-of-war with his psyche, not sure of how to proceed.

The piece in his ear picked up with some static before Hunnigan’s familiar voice was heard. “Leon are you there?”

He ignored her in favor of continuing to dote over you, hand gently running through your hair, taking in your features more. That trepidation never left your eyes – he understood it. He probably looked psychotic right now, a murderer who was being eerily kind. He was self aware enough to know that much.

“Leon, we haven’t heard a status report. Has the last target been eliminated?” She spoke loud enough this time that while it couldn’t have been above the lowest whisper for you, it was obvious you heard it, eyes widened again, mouth opening slightly. To keep you quiet he leaned forward pressing his lips to yours, a soft kiss you didn’t really return. “Stay quiet for me, ok?” He mumbled against your lips, before sitting up again. He considered replying to Hunnigan, but looking down at you, he took his earpiece out, tossing it to the other side of the room instead.

Hey eyed you again, before adding another kiss. ‘I shouldn’t be doing this.’ He reprimanded himself, as he placed another this time to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then jaw. Another on your neck for good measure. ‘I should’ve done it the second she opened the door. I should’ve done my job.’ Despite his mind’s dialogue he continued now at your collar bone. ‘Like ripping off a band aid…. I can’t let her last moments be like that.’ He began to rationalize as he looked up at you. “Let me make you feel good.”

“Wh-what?” “You deserve better than a drunk frat boy. Let me make you feel good.” He repeated. “Why?” “Because I want to.” He could clock the nervousness in your voice immediately. “You can say no.” He added. “I’m not a rapist.”

“A-are you going to kill me if I say no?” “No, of course not.” Again, it wasn’t technically a lie. He wouldn’t be doing it because you declined, but he felt mild disgust with himself for side-stepping the reality of the situation again. ‘It’s better this way though. For her.’

“Ok.” You said, nodding at him to continue. He treated you like glass, gently working your thin tank top up and over your breasts. He continued by kissing each one tenderly before taking your left nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it until he felt it pebble. When you whimpered at the feeling, he began to suck on it, kneading your other breast with his hand. When he pulled himself off with a pop, he looked down at you, lips parted, eyes closed. Enjoying so much despite him having done so little. Adorable.

He ran his thumb along your bottom lip until he saw those pretty eyes crack open before capturing your lips again, taking the chance to slip his tongue inside once parted. You were sloppy with inexperience, but tasted like dessert, sweet. It made his cock twitch against his pants. He groaned slightly into your mouth, ignoring his own need. Pulling away he let you catch your breath, giving him the chance to move down your body one kiss under your breasts. The next above your naval – stomach contracting slightly. He added one more above the hem of your night pants.

He looked up at you, silently checking with you if it was alright to continue again. When you nodded, he helped you out of the pants. Gently tugging them down from the waist band, lifting each separate leg himself, careful to not hurt your already injured feet. “You alright?” “Y-yeah.”

“Let me know if anything hurts, ok?” “Ok.” “Good girl.”

Leon tugged his leather jacket off discarding it on the floor before rolling up the sleeves of his button up. He claimed a spot between your legs, lifting one over his shoulder for better access to what he was about to do. He gave a reassuring kiss to your thigh, using a free hand to part your folds, rubbing his thumb over your clit gently. He eyed you watching as you melted under his touch, soft whimpers tickling at his eardrums. “Such a pretty girl.” He cooed, replacing his thumb with his tongue, swirling it around the sensitive bud.

He had to grind down on the bed himself to relieve some of his own tension, reminding himself to keep his focus on you. His grip on your leg tightened as you arched your back, squirming more and more against his touch. “God…oh god…” You chanted, head tossed back, the leg draped over his shoulder kicking at his back. He knew you were close when your voice cracked, soft gasps escaped your lips. He continued lapping at you as you ground against his face, letting you ride through your orgasm – only stopping when your hands made purchase in his hair to get his attention. “C-can’t…can’t.”

Pulling back, he wiped your slick off his chin with his forearm, looking down at you. He watched as your chest heaved slowly, returning to a normal rhythm. Your uninjured eye was lidded less with shock and more with that familiar coming down of pleasure. He went to move back when you grabbed his arm, looking directly at him. “What about you?” He was a little shocked by the words, your concern for him. “I said I wanted to make you feel good.” He chalked it up to your likely traumatized and now lust hazed brain. “Don’t worry about me.” Leon made the motion to move again. “Wait.” You called, grip on his arm tightening. “What if… what if I want to?”

He didn’t move, unsure of how to respond. He’d already fucked up the mission, already covered you in his DNA, yours on him – but he couldn’t do what you were asking. That was too far.

“P-please?” You choked out, tears now welling in your eyes, spilling over and staining your cheeks again.

And just like that he was taken back to that day again, right before Raccoon City. A night he swore was the worst of his life, until he knew better. Sitting there across from him, begging him not to go – you sounded just like her too, like she was frozen in time beneath him. Even worse, this was the opposite of what he wanted, he wanted to make things easier for you, relax you. “I just want to be close, please? Please?” You were full on crying now, face scrunching up, barely able to catch your breath. “Ok. Ok.” He said, leaning down to kiss you again. “Shhh, don’t cry. Don’t cry. How do you want me to take you?” Your words came out between sniffles and hiccups. “Any way, you want.”

He nodded, sitting back enough to help you sit up, slipping your shirt off all the way. “Can you flip over for me? Lay down flat on your stomach.” He helped you comply with the command, still careful of your injuries. He could see the bandages on your feet had turned a slight pink. Once you were laid out the way he wanted, relaxed, face down into the pillow, he worked his own shirt off, tossing it over in a pile atop his jacket. His gun was removed from the holster, he was careful to lock the safety, discarding it with his other items. He left his pants on, undoing them enough to free his half hard cock, the head still weeping.

He spat in his hand, giving himself a few good tugs, feeling himself hardening fully again. “You ready?” “Yeah.” He crawled forward, gently lifting your butt up just enough for him to line himself at your soaking entrance. He grunted when he pressed in, you sucking him in warm and wet. He let you take a moment to relax down again as he leaned forward, pressing the entirety of his bare chest to your back, sinking his cock in slowly until he was buried all the way inside of your heat.

He kissed up your shoulders, and neck, rolling his hips into your slowly. “God you’re tight baby.” He whispered against your ear. He didn’t have the heart to rail you into the mattress, wanting to abate your request for closeness, intimacy. “S’big…” You lazily mumbled into the pillow. “I know, I know.” He crooned your neck just enough for him to lock your lips together again. “But you’re doing so good, taking me so well.” Letting you rest, he returned to focusing on the motion of setting a steady but not too rough pace, angling himself so that he hit that spot inside of you that had you whimpering again. He rewarded the noises by rolling you both onto the side, where he could wrap an arm around you like a tight hug, leg gently pulled over over his own so he had a better angle. Likely for the best, Leon was close already, he slowed down more, returning to simply rolling his hips as he trailed his hand down your stomach, ghosting it over your naval and thighs before rubbing at your clit for a bit as he kissed and sucked softly against your neck. He fucked you like he would’ve done to her, like you were his lover, the most important thing to him.

Your velvet walls felt like heaven as they squeezed against him, closer and closer to your own second orgasm. “That’s it baby.” He whispered hotly against your ear. “One more time for me, ok?” He sped up his fingers, feeling you tighten around him so much that he nearly felt his own eyes roll back. “G-good girl.” He praised, gripping your hip to speed up his own movements, his balls tightening as he came, cock throbbing as spurts of his seed painted your insides.

Leon held you like that for a while, curling in on you, offering soft praises as he nuzzled into your neck from behind. He didn’t move a muscle until your breath evened out completely, and he could tell by the low thrum of your heartbeat that you were incredibly close, if not already asleep. He looked up at the clock on the nightstand – 4:45am it read. He had about 20 more minutes max before someone from HQ would be sent in as backup, now that he’d been MIA for so long.

Now fully soft, he gently pulled himself out of you, and carefully rolled off the bed. He watched you for any more signs of movement as he buckled back up and redressed. There was that eerie silence settling over the house again, he felt heavy with the weight of the evening crushing against him like an invisible force. He wished for a moment that the world would swallow him up where he stood so he didn’t have to face his responsibilities, the consequences.

You looked peaceful laying there. He knew it was just the exhaustion, shock, and grief, that kept you tugged under the waves of unconsciousness, but for his own sake he pretended you were in a truly relaxed state. Moreso, he was glad you wouldn’t experience any more of that pain or fear tonight. Leon clicked the safety off the gun, watching you for any signs of movement. Not even a twitch as he cocked the gun again. He walked over, sitting at the side of the bed again, eyeing you over one more time. It felt like he was saying goodbye to a lot of things at that moment, his ex all over again, your future, another piece of the man he wanted to be. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this, you know?” He whispered, mostly to himself as he pressed the barrel of the pistol to the pillow.

He couldn’t look this time. He wouldn’t look this time. His chest tightened, having to take a moment to stop the bile trying to work its way up, and the urge to cry that had him wanting to heave against the floor. He grabbed his earpiece as he made his exit.

“This is Kennedy to HQ – the last target has been exterminated.”

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mayfieldss · 1 year

Text

Cover fire - JJ Maybank

Warnings: robbery, guns, violence, language.

Summary; When you and JJ become the subject of a carjacking robbery, JJ does his best to keep you safe. - PART TWO HERE

AN: ngl besties idk what this is, she's short, badly written and insane just like me.

"JJ." It's a whisper, a panicked breath, and JJ turns as you grab his hand. When he saw the gun, his main instinct was to grab, shield, and hold you so impossibly hard that you might break. But there was a man, face covered, pointing a gun directly at your head. Moving too fast right now was a bad idea.

You were looking straight ahead, too afraid to lock eyes with your attacker, holding your breath as if one release of air could cause the gun to fire.

"Get out of the van." the man's voice is rough as he opens the passenger side door, pulling you out of it and toward him to ensure JJ won't do anything stupid. You're forced to let go of JJ's hand and JJ rounds the van slowly to meet you on the other side, taking deep breaths as he does. He's terrified, but he can't show it. If he does, it will stress you out more. He needs you to know he'll keep you safe, but as of right now, he doesn't know how he's going to do it.

"On your knees." The man gestures to JJ, waving the gun toward him, and JJ obeys. The whole time, he keeps his eyes locked with yours in a silent plea. He's communicating to you without words; 'focus on me, not the gun, just look at me.'

"JJ," you say his name again, and it rips the breath from his throat.

"It's okay, baby, we're gonna be okay." he isn't sure what he says will turn out to be true, but he hopes, prays that it will.

"Quiet!" JJ doesn't recognize the voice, but the sound of it is like nails on a chalkboard—scratchy and irritable. The man shouts right next to your ear, and you flinch, eyes shutting tightly. "Hey, no Y/N," JJ calls to you despite the man's order, and you open your eyes. "Keep looking at me, baby, it's okay. Just focus on me."

You nod and the man nudges the gun against the side of your head, a warning to stop communicating with each other. "Wallets, now."

JJ carefully pulls his wallet from his back pocket, tossing it to the man with eyes on you the whole time. He's afraid if he looks away for one second you might leave him.

"Yours, where is it?" The man shoves you again, but you have nothing to give him. "I don't have it on me, I left it at home."

"Liar," The man's gun is now pressed firmly to your back, his finger a lot closer to the trigger than JJ would like.

"She doesn't have it, man!" JJ knows he shouldn't shout but he does, anything he can do to keep the man's attention off you is worth it. "She's broke as shit, what's the point of carrying it around when there's nothing in it? Let my girl go right the fuck now! "

"A girl needs her ID" Though his face is hidden, JJ can see him frowning, the bandana over his mouth and nose shifting as his face contorts in anger.

"It's in my phone case, my ID." You let out a harsh breath and JJ can only watch as a few tears escape you. He has never wanted to strangle a man more in his life than he does right now.

It happens fast and you cry out as the man throws you to the ground in front of JJ, your head banging harshly on the side of the road. JJ knows he shouldn't make any sudden moves, but he takes his chances, pulling you to him in an instant. His body is over yours like a shield and you grip him just as tight, a sob breaking through.

"You're good baby, I got you"

The man searches the Twinkie, checking every minute that you and JJ haven't moved. You both know John B is going to be pissed that the one day you take out his van, you get robbed. He'll give you a break though if you survive this.

The man comes back around a few minutes later, gun pointed firmly at the pile that is JJ shielding you with his body.

"Get the girl up." the man is speaking to JJ directly and he looks up just enough to lock eyes with the man. "Fuck no."

"I'm the one with the gun and I say the girl comes over here with me." the man has the aggression of a grizzly bear, but JJ doesn't flinch once. His top priority is you and there is no way in hell he's handing you over without a fight.

"Get the fucking girl over here!" He's waving the gun around like a maniac and JJ can feel you shift under him. He knows what you're thinking, and he won't allow it. "No. No way Y/N."

His words brush against your hair, and he can't feel the pattern of your breathing shift. "JJ, he'll shoot you if I don't get up."

"And he'll shoot you if I let you get up." JJ's voice is firm but you're both on different pages right now. You care for him just as much as he cares for you, you're never going to let him get hurt if you've got a way to stop it.

"I've got a plan, baby." JJ's whisper is a lie, but it's the only thing he can think of to say that will stop you from walking toward the barrel of a gun.

"Get her up!" The man shouts again, voice echoing across the empty road. JJ prays that another car will drive past, preferably the police as much as he hates them. JJ turns his head to face the man again. He won't give him the satisfaction of fear, so JJ looks back at him with a blank stare and spits at his feet. "Fuck you."

GENERAL TAGLIST; @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreads @hiya-its-amber

OUTER BANKS TAGLIST;

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hanjisick · 1 year

Note

Hey how do you feel about writing yandere stray kids with fem stylist darling, like for Chan it’s romantic but for the rest of the kids it’s platonic, kind of like a little yandere family where neither the ‘parent’ or the ‘kids’ want their darling to leave them.

STRAY KIDS ‘FAMILY’ HEADCANONS.

a/n. okay, bare with me. i love this concept so much and had so many ideas for it— and i also had no clue how to organize it all. i hope this works!

warnings. violence. kidnapping. yandere themes.

word count. 2.1k

stray kids was a popular boy group that you didn’t know very well

you were chosen as the main stylist for the boys.

each of them were very kind boys, but specifically, bang chan stuck out to you.

and you had no idea what you would be getting into.

it began with how kind he was towards you and the backstage team

he would show off his charming smile and thank everyone any chance he got

even onstage during concerts, he would take a moment to thank the staff

then you began to realize how attractive he was.

you couldn’t help but stare as he would come backstage in a rush, sweaty from performing, tearing his shirt off, with the other boys following close behind

hesitating, you would hand him the next outfit for him

he’d flash you a smile and a quick ‘thanks’, running a hand through his damp hair as he changed

you didn’t know if you were just being hopeful at first, but you began to realize that he formed an attraction to you as well

you would be tugging on the cloth of his shirt, smoothing it out, fixing every wrinkle and misplaced accessory on his body

and chan would stare at you unapologetically, even if you met his gaze

there was obvious tension between the two of you

one day, he lingered for longer after an event to chat with you, ask you for tips on what colors would work best on him, what to wear in his weekly livestreams, and more

the rest of the boys lingered around him, quietly— which was quite unusual for them, there was rarely a time where they weren’t yelling

“i know this is technically against the rules, but would you be willing to take a visit to our dorm room and go through my closet with me? i really need fashion help. id be willing to pay.”

“it’s okay, i’d love to do it for free.”

you weren’t as oblivious as you pretended to be.

you knew he didn’t just want help with clothes and you could think of a billion other ways that he could easily figure out what to wear

but the biggest giveaway was the desire in his eyes, looking at you in ways that would never be considered a professional relationship

“do you want my number? i could text you the address, just don’t leak it, please.”

“you have my word.”

that night, you drove to their dorm, knocking on the door to be greeted by chan in his natural habitat— a hoodie and sweatpants, messy hair, no makeup, and a shy smile on his face.

“sorry for the mess, me and seungmin were trying to clean before you got here.”

you stepped into the dorm, finding exactly what you’d expect from eight boys living together. a complete mess.

but what you didn’t expect was for changbin to immediately guard the door after locking it.

“you know, me and the boys were looking for someone else to help take care of them.”

you fell right into their trap. and there was no escape from this sick, twisted family roleplay that they forced you to be apart of.

BANG CHAN.

he would never allow you to leave the house under any circumstances.

he would be the one to go to your apartment and grab your absolutely necessary things

he was also extremely possessive

you are only allowed to refer to him as your husband or darling, anything else will get a member of your actual family killed.

he’s absolutely obsessed with playing the role of a wonderful husband

it’s almost sickening how well he pretends, as if he actually loved his “wife” and his “kids”

of course, nobody could love someone if they’re keeping them captive, though.

pet names came naturally to him. he was always referring to you as his sweetheart, his honey, and most importantly, his wife.

your daily tasks involve waking up the kids and helping with breakfast, then sitting together to eat as a family

while he is gone, he expects for you to clean the house, do the laundry— typical housewife things

of course he would help you with these tasks normally, though, as a good husband should do, once he is home

when he gets home with the boys, however, he expects a kiss on the lips, and to be asked how his day went

dinner must be started, and chan never fails to comment on how good it smells.

it’s almost like every day is a repeat, the same script over and over.

and any time that you go out of line, chan will simply ignore you, and eventually you learned to just play along

at night, you must lay beside chan, wondering how you somehow used to be attracted to the monster as he held you tightly in his arms from behind.

LEE MINHO.

minho, labeled as the oldest child, was cold and eerily quiet at first

he didn’t talk to you, instead choosing to hang out with one of his ‘brothers’

once he was sure that you wouldn’t escape, he would begin to show little signs of acknowledgment towards you

things like a nod or a wave when he walked in the door or thanking you for cooking him food

soon he would ask you questions about yourself like asking about where you grew up, or how you became a stylist

soon, while he didn’t exactly follow you around obnoxiously the way that jisung would, you would always find him nearby, keeping a watch on you

“can i help you cook dinner?” he eventually asked, avoiding eye contact

when you agreed, he would perk up, immediately washing his hands and helping to get the ingredients

that became you and minhos thing. every time you would cook for the boys, which was at least twice a day, often three, he would join you

“getting along well with mom, i see?” chan would ask him with a grin.

“i love mom. she’s wonderful.”

“i knew you would eventually warm up to her.”

SEO CHANGBIN.

changbin was the first one that you learned to despise

he was deemed as the guard for you, since he was the strongest, and therefore was always the one to catch you first when you tried to leave multiple times

“where do you think you’re going?” he would growl, his expression full of what you thought was hatred

if he was so annoyed by you, why would he keep you in the first place?

although chan claimed him to be your “son”, he easily manhandled you, picking you up and dragging you back into the house despite your thrashing, and throwing you down as if you were the child.

but as your escape attempts became less and less frequent, you began to see a different side of changbin

one that was softer, kinder, less scary to be around

he would help you around the house with chores, such as doing the dishes or making the beds

“i wanted to make you smile”, he would say, causing your heart to skip a beat

he would grow on you quickly once his outer shell broke

HWANG HYUNJIN.

“why do you want to leave, mommy?”

most of the boys called you mom, but hyunjin was insistent on calling you mommy.

it made your stomach churn in an uncomfortable, frightening feeling

“i promise i’ll be good. i’ll make sure my room is clean and i’ll brush my teeth every night. just don’t try to leave again.”

you would grit your teeth and watch him beg, as if they weren’t holding you hostage, as if chan hadn’t done the sickest things to ensure that you would stay.

you didn’t know what kind of issues hyunjin and the rest had, but you didn’t want to be a part of them.

most of the time, hyunjin acted like a fragile child, like he would start to cry at any moment

he always wanted your attention, more than the other boys

“can you hold me, mommy? and sing me to sleep?”

you wanted to say no, but you couldn’t, or else he would tell chan.

“of course. come here.”

you would shakily comb your hands through his long hair, rocking him back and forth until he fell asleep on top of you.

HAN JISUNG.

clingy cuddle bug number one

jisung was always at your side if he wasn’t being swept away by minho to play

“where were you? why were you gone for so long?” he would ask on your first night trapped in the house

he played the role a little too well, as if you had genuinely left without any reason for his entire life

but now you were back and he wasn’t going to leave you alone

“do you want to draw with me?”

“i have to make the beds.”

“can i help you make the beds?”

“you’re gonna mess them up, jisung.”

he would stare at you silently for a moment.

“call me sungie,” he would whisper, his entire expression changing in an instant

your breath would hitch as he continued, “or else i’m gonna tell daddy. and he’s going to hurt grandma. really badly, too.”

with tears brimming your eyes, you would restart. “sungie, you’re gonna mess the beds up. let mama do it.”

a switch in his brain seemed to flip, going right back into character. “why do you always have to do boring things? why can’t we play?”

“why don’t you play with lixie until i’m done?”

LEE FELIX.

felix was always more gentle than the others even from the beginning

when he found you crying, he would be the first person to wipe your tears, hushing you, telling you that it would all be okay

he seemed like the closest to sane one in the house

you felt like you could trust him, that he actually had a heart

maybe, just maybe, he was being forced to play along too, maybe he was being held captive

you could tell by the pained look in his eyes when he saw you being scolded by chan for trying to run away

which is why you came to him with your plan.

“felix,” you pulled him into the laundry room, “i think i’m gonna run away.”

“you’re going to what?”

“you need to help me. we can act like we’re together so that bang chan doesn’t get suspicious.”

his eyes were wide, crazed, as he shoved you against the wall, harnessing strength that you didn’t think could come out of the soft boy.

a knife was pulled against your throat, the harsh metal digging into your skin.

“you are never going to run away from daddy and your children, mom. you should forget about it,” his deep voice boomed throughout the house

KIM SEUNGMIN.

seungmin really didn’t seem all that attached to you like the other boys

but he was quite the troublemaker

chan would call you to scold him for teasing the others or to break up arguments

he was definitely exhausting to deal with

“minnie! don’t call hyunjin that!” or “what did i say about throwing food?”

what was the most agitating is that both seungmin and chan seemed to enjoy it, as if they had decided that the family needed a troublemaker.

he would stick his tongue out at you, egging you on, thinking that you wouldn’t do anything just because you didn’t want to be his real mom.

“go to your room!” you would yell, as chan smiled behind you, “or i’ll have to drag you in there!”

“fine!” he would groan out in defeat, slamming his door behind him.

“good job, my sweetheart,” chan would praise into your ear, “you’re finally acting like the mother that you are. but hyunjin is crying because of seungmin’s words now, would you be a darling and go comfort him?”

YANG JEONGIN.

as the youngest of the boys, everyone seemed to deem him as the most important thing in the world

you could admit that he was definitely adorable

but the way that the others treated him was unbearably obnoxious

“can you cut up jeongin’s food?” chan would ask you sweetly, his arms wrapping around your waist in the kitchen

you grimaced, thankful that chan couldn’t see your face, “of course my love.”

cutting up food for a twenty-one year old was something that you never thought you’d have to do

but as long as nobody else died, you would do it.

“can i have apple juice?” “can i have the smallest fork?”

it was never-ending with the babying of the person that you couldn’t see as anything but a full grown man.

but at night, you would find him slithering in between you and your husband, his chest replacing chan’s against your back and hot breath against your ear

“you love me, right, mom? don’t you love baby jeongin?”

#skz #stray kids #yandere stray kids #skz yandere #han jisung #bang chan #yandere skz #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids imagines #skz fanfiction #skz fanfic #minho scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #seungmin x reader #skz x reader #kim seungmin #stray kids scenarios

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lamaery · 2 years

Photo

The second theme of cosmere fashion week is Masquerade. I decided to go for costumes that are reminiscent of what the spren/human companions usually are wearing with a bit of a high fashion tweak... and lots of masks... fancy masks. Also I think these three are the pairs where I actually have designs for both of humans and spren in shadesmar form (maybe apart from Design and her talkative radiant). Again another lesson in if you’re not entirely convinced by your painting just slap a lot of effects on :D Image description (by @cosmereplay and myself) below the cut:

[ID: Three Images showing Kaladin, Syl, Shallan, Pattern, Adolin and Maya in costumes inspired by each other. Image one is Kaladin and Syl, sitting on two overlarge steps. Kal is sitting on the bottom step, leaning back against the top step with his hand in the air, making a pinching motion with his index finger and thumb, palm up. His head his hunched forward slightly, his face pointed slightly downwards but his eyes looking up at the viewer. He wears a blue masquerade mask which covers the area around his eyes, though his forehead brands are still visible. His hair is black, wavy, and medium length, tickling the back of his neck and brushing his cheekbones. He wears an incredible suit. It's a sky blue, slightly reflective pantsuit. The trousers are notched slightly at the ankle. The suit jacket has only two buttons at the waist, and otherwise hangs open, revealing a shaved chest. The sleeves go to the elbow, and cascading out from inside are tulle-like, flowing sleeves in various shades of blue. More tulle emerges from under the bottom of the suit jacket, too, flowing like vapour, but still clearly fabric. It's magical. Syl wears a uniform. She has a white blouse with a small tight collar around the neck, and the sleeves are rolled up to the elbow. Over that she wears a blue vest with a strong black and grey collar that criss crosses over her chest and presumably ties at the waist. She wears grey trousers and tight black knee high boots. She's thrown her uniform jacket over her shoulder with a confident smile. Her hair is up in a bun with her bangs loose and curly, bouncing on her temples. She wears a masquerade mask that covers the area around her eyes plus her forehead. The mask is the colour and texture of Kaladin's skin, and it has Kaladin's brands on the forehead. She is sitting on the top step, leaning casually with her hand behind Kaladin. Image two is Shallan and Pattern sitting in front of a magenta background. Shallan is sitting on the ground, leaning to one side with a cocked and confident shoulder. She wears a black dress and her hair is pulled back tightly. Centred where her hair is parted is essentially a Cryptic, which covers an area above her head and down to her nose in a black pattern that evokes both language and lace. Her blue eyes shine out from between convenient spaces in the pattern. Her dress is evocative of a cryptic. The skirt of the dress is long and flowing and almost velvety in the way it absorbs light, and she wears gloves that reach her upper arms. Incidentally her deltoids and her lips and jaw are the only parts of her that are uncovered and I'm all about that delt life, you know me Lamaery. The bust of the dress is a phenomenon - black, reflective plastic shapes fit together to make an almost gem-like pattern around her waist. Because the top part of the dress is hard, it is able to extend upwards past her shoulders, kind of like someone punched two holes in a plastic cup and she stuck her arms through, but only in the shape sense. Every bit of this is striking and elegant Shallan holds a closed fan on her lap and she purses her lips because she knows exactly how amazing she looks. Pattern is standing behind Shallan. He wears a light blue havah with a thick gold edging that criss crosses his chest, and frames his shoulders and the end of his safehand sleeve, which is extremely long and exaggerated, hanging down almost to the ground as he reaches out behind Shallan, using his light coloured clothing to contrast Shallan's pure black costume. His face is a pattern, exactly like the one Shallan is wearing in front of her face. He is holding a clear glass mask on a long glass stem. The mask is a theatre style, with a straight line across the forehead and down all the way to the chin. It has a neutral expression.

Image three is showing Adolin and Maya. Adolin wears a loose grey green sweater with a green and golden striped vest and a ripped dark green jeans. He is barefoot. His faces is masked by a golden, crumpled cloth strip with holes for his eyes. Maya wears a blue uniform coat with the chest part with a double row of buttons being very cropped the sides and back of the coat glaring down to knee length. It has a dark blue high collar and silver ornamentation with silver cords falling from the shoulder. Underneath the front is a slim light violet vest with an asymmetrical cut on the bottom. She wears light blue pants and dark knee high Boots. Theee quarters of her face are covered by a golden smiling mask rimmed with golden and black feathers on top. The right upper side of her face, showing some forehead and the scratches where her right eye was are revealed. Adolin‘s left hand is propped on top the hilt of the sabre, it’s top standing on the floor. Maya’s right hand lies on top of Adolin‘s.]

#roshar fashion #cosmere #cosmere fashion month #masquarade #fashion #kaladin #sylphrena #shallan #pattern #cryptic #mayalaran #adolin #swapsies #stormlight archive #cfsbf

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simplych3rry · 7 months

Text

-Drunken Giggles-

Freddy Carter/Fem!Reader Platonic Crows Cast x Fem!Reader

Description: Freddy takes care of his drunken friend crush after a party

(Request from @opheliaofficial07: Hello, can I request a Freddy Oneshot where reader is a friend of one of the cast members and they get drunk and Freddy takes care of them)

Warnings: drinking, nausea, headaches, vomiting, clubbing

____________________

“And you’re completely sure this will be fine?” Y/N questioned, running her finger along the edge of the gift bag.

“Yes!” Jack exclaimed for the millionth time that day. “He will love it, I swear,”

“And you’re sure it’s okay for me to come along?” She asked yet again, leaning back against the passenger seat staring at her best friend as he drove.

“Yes Y/N, they all loved you, I swear,” he glanced at her before turning his eyes back to the road. “Now hush before I crash this car,”

She snickered, rolling her eyes, before turning up the volume on the radio station currently playing as her and Jack sang along to the cheesy pop songs blasting from the speaker.

Jack Wolfe had been her best friend since nursery she supposed. She couldn’t remember life without him. They had been there for each other forever. He was practically her brother if you thought about it.

She had been over the moon when he was cast as Wylan Van Eck in Netflix’s upcoming show ‘Shadow and Bone’ and even more delighted when he recently introduced her to his cast mates, which was only fitting as he wanted his new found family his own sister.

They all, naturally, loved her. With her witty jokes and dazzling smile, she was a hit and blended in seamlessly with them despite not even being on the show alongside them.

Freddy, in particular, had paid close attention to this beautiful girl and couldn’t keep his mind off her since.

So now, she had been invited to Kit’s birthday party and was freaking out constantly asking Jack for his reassurance that she wasn’t going to be awkward there and that she would be fine.

It wasn’t that she was nervous about seeing them again, well maybe only Freddy, but she felt like an intruder. Trying to mix in with an already established group.

She watched as Jack reversed into a parking space and switched off the engine, before opening the car door.

Quickly checking her appearance in the overhead mirror, she grabbed the bag in one hand and her purse in the other before swinging open the door and stepping out into the cool breeze.

She shut the door behind her with a bang and smoothed down her silky dress.

She and Jack walked side by side to Kit’s chosen club of the night. The sun was beginning to set and, since it was late October in England, it was already freezing.

“Remember to call a taxi on the way back,” he reminded her, flicking her with his finger.

“Yes, dad,” she groaned, smacking his hand away, laughing

She ran her hands up and down and her arms trying to keep herself warm as they neared the club.

The line was relatively short at this time so they got to the front fast enough.

They flashed the bouncer their ID’s before stepping inside.

As soon as the door shut behind them they immediately lifted their hands to their eyes trying to block out the colourful ribbons of light shooting out from every direction possible.

Loud music filled their ears as they turned to look at eachother.

The dance floor was completely packed with bodies already so it was hard to see anyone in this dim light.

Y/N turned to scan the crowd and noticed a certain brunette boy smiling at his friends.

“Look, there’s Freddy,” she said, raising her voice over the crowd even though she doubted she was heard.

She pointed in their direction and took Jack’s hand to make sure he followed her.

She wove her way around several bodies, grinding to the beat, or flailing their arms around, almost spilling drinks, before reaching her intended destination.

She leaned forward to tap on Freddy’s shoulder but as if sensing her arrival, he turned before she could actually make contact with him.

She did an awkward little half wave with that arm before lowering it.

“Hi,” she said, smiling.

“Hello," he returned the smile.

She was just about to open her mouth before Danielle crashed into her, hugging her tight.

“Hi Dani!” She giggled, hugging her back.

She took turns greeting the rest of the cast in similar fashion before turning to Kit.

“Happy Birthday!” She beamed, thrusting the gift bag forward. “I hope you like it,”

He gave her a hug and thanked her for the gift and coming along too.

Just then Calahan and Jack returned with a tray of drinks, everyone turning to grab one.

Let the party begin.

*****

Somehow, one drink turned into about five.

Well, six by the time Y/N finished gulping down the glass before joining Kit back on the dance floor

By now she was completely drunk.

As were many of her friends around her.

Kit and Y/N were drunkenly dancing, Dani and Amita had taken to loudly laughing at every little thing.

Only Cal, Freddy had remained sober enough, only downing a drink or two.

Jack had left earlier as he told her he had to see his dog? Or was it his mum? Y/N couldn't remember.

The alcohol blurred her thoughts together as she continued dancing.

Eventually, she all but tumbled, very ungracefully, into the seat next to Freddy, pacing just one last shot.

“Easy, easy,” he laughed, warmly, that sound wrapping around her like a blanket.

She laughed back, looking up at him, captured by his outrageously gorgeous eyes.

She leaned forward, a bit boldly, to brush away a strand of hair stuck to his eyelid. He blushed at the contact but it was quite dark so she wouldn’t have seen it.

“Thanks,” he replied but Y/N was already bounding off towards Kit and Dani, who was slow dancing with Amita, again.

He smiled at her dark hair, wildly flicking everywhere and how carefree she looked while dancing.

If only she knew how much he liked her.

*****

“Doing alright love?”

Y/N looked up at the sound of his familiar voice, shivering in the late fall chill.

“Helloooooooo,” she replied, staring into his eyes and leaning against the brick wall, furiously rubbing her hands down her arms for some warmth but to no avail.

Almost everyone had gone home now but Y/N seemed to have forgotten her phone in Jack's car before they left so she was stuck here, drunk and cold, with no way home.

“And who's coming to get you?” He asked, looking around at the street as she was alone outside and it was dark, not the safest of situations.

“I c-cant finnnnnd my phooooooneee,” she hiccuped, looking around her bag again even though she had checked like a million times.

“Oh,” his brows furrowed.

He couldn’t leave her here alone, not while she was drunk.

“I can drop you off,” he offered, searching her face for her reaction. He never would have said it if it wasn’t for the way she was shivering, or maybe it was the drunken smile on her face, the way she still looked perfect despite her current situation.

They had both been dancing around the flames of their attraction, not wanting to ruin their friendship and also completely oblivious to the obvious spark there.

He should’ve just ordered her a taxi but whatever. He cared for her.

Besides, she probably wouldn’t remember this tomorrow.

She nodded aggressively in agreement and bounded off towards the car park.

He laughed before calling, “Wrong way!”

She turned on her heel, remarkably fast for someone who was wearing heels, and let Freddy lead them on.

At some point, and she could not remember when, her feet had gotten so sore she ended up leaning on Freddy, with his arm draped around her protectively.

She was obviously shivering and he felt a slight twinge in his chest.

“Here,” he said, shrugging off his jacket, “Wear this,” he draped it over her shoulder so she would at least have some protection.

She sighed in relief and thanked him before hiccuping again.

He was absolutely freezing but the smile on her face warmed him up just fine.

He sensed the paparazzi would obviously show up soon enough and it was bad enough that Y/N was in this state so he didn’t look around for the occasional flash and focused on getting Y/N to the car quickly before she did something that would end up on tabloids tomorrow.

After what seemed like an age, they finally neared his car, parked in a separate car park a couple of minutes away.

He made her lean against the car frame as he opened the passenger seat for her.

He helped her in and gently shut the door, making his way around to the driver's side.

He settled in and slammed the door shut with him, sheltering himself from the cruel cold.

He rubbed his hands together before starting the engine and turning on the heater.

He looked over at Y/N who was leaning against the window, smiling, in her own world.

He gently tapped her on the leg to get her attention.

“What’s your address?” He asked as she turned around to face him.

She rattled off her address as he keyed it into his sat-nav and buckled herself in.

He slightly raised the volume of the radio station playing so it could fill in the awkward silence as he set down the road.

“So…” he cleared his throat. “Have a nice night?” He asked awkwardly.

He wasn’t really sure what to say.

“Y-yeah,” she hiccuped. “Ffffffabuloussss,”

He laughed warmly as the conversation grew a bit smoother as the journey continued.

Soon enough, they reached her apartment complex as he parked outside.

He turned off the engine and looked over at her, she was slightly snoring.

His lips tipped up in a smile knowing that she was comfortable enough with him to fall asleep.

He opened his car door and got out, rounding the car to her side and opening it.

He nudged her gently, trying to slowly awaken her.

“Y/N,” he murmured, “we’re here,”

She opened her eyes and blinked confusedly in his direction for a second before recognition flickered in her eyes.

He helped her out of the car and blipped it shut behind him.

They made their way towards the entrance.

“Ugh, I’m g-going to chooooop my f-feet offfff,” she groaned, wincing in her heels.

“That’s a bit dramatic,” he laughed but bent down and prised them off her feet.

She practically moaned when her feet were flat on the lobby ground.

He bent down slightly and stabilised his hand beneath her knee and armpits before scooping her up, not willing to let her walk on the dirty ground.

She murmured her floor number and relaxed in his embrace and he thumbed the button and the lift ascended up.

The building was practically silent at this time of night so nobody would see them anyway.

As the lift doors opened and he stepped out, she pointed to which door was hers.

He put her down for a moment, her heels still in his hands, as she fumbled around her purse for a key.

Eventually, she found it and held it in her shaky grip and unlocked the door.

She all but stumbled inside, collapsing on her velvet couch with a ‘thump’.

He shut the door behind him and placed her heels on the ground.

He looked around at her flat, while it wasn’t in the best state it definitely suited her, he supposed.

Chaotic yet beautiful.

He supposed he should go now, now that she was home safely, but he didn’t really want to if he was honest.

“Well, night then,” he waved, turning around to the door.

“Wait,” she exclaimed and shot up on the couch holding out a hand.

His eyebrows furrowed and he turned around facing her.

“Ssssstay, p-please, don’t l-leeeeeave me aloooone,” she slurred, clasping her hands, begging.

“Are you sure?” He asked, uncertainly.

She was drunk and wasn’t thinking right.

“Yes!” She gasped as if it were the most obvious thing on this planet.

He nodded and turned around towards the door again.

“Wait! W-where arrrrreeee you goinnnng?” She hiccuped.

“To lock the door,” he laughed, turning the key and hearing the satisfying click.

She sunk back into the couch and just lay there.

He laughed as she started snoring softly again.

He pushed open a door which he was correct in assuming was her bedroom.

The sheets slightly ruffled as if made in a rush, an overflowing makeup case strewn on her desk, clothes hanging from railings.

He pulled back the bedsheets and went back to the living room and scooped the sleeping beauty up. He lay her onto her bed, taking off the jacket, and pulled the duvet over her.

He supposed her dress wasn't the comfiest thing to sleep in but he didn’t want to invade her privacy like that.

He grabbed the water bottle beside her bed and filled it up with fresh water for her incase she woke up thirsty.

He also dragged a bin beside her incase she threw up.

He smiled softly to himself as she had already made herself comfy in her bed.

He flicked off the light and shut the door, leaving it fractionally open.

He looked around for a couple minutes before he found a spare blanket and he made himself comfy on her couch.

He lay awake thinking of the day's events and what led up to this before sleep began to overtake him too.

His eyes flickered open and shut as he listened to the sleeping girl in the other room, his breath subconsciously matching hers.

*****

“Bleuch,” she heaved into the bin.

Perfect start to the morning really.

She’d woken up with a pounding headache, the driest mouth, the sorest throat and the most aching body ever. Not to mention the nausea that had been rolling around her stomach since she’d finally gotten to her senses.

God, she was never drinking again, she thought as she spewed into the bin again.

Then she heard footsteps approaching her bedroom and she got confused.

Then flashbacks of last night hit her. Oh. It was Freddy. She had asked, no, begged him to stay. Fabulous. She threw up again.

The door tentatively opened and Freddy poked his head inside.

When he saw that she was leaning over the bin, he stepped fully inside and rushed over to her.

“Are you doing okay?” He wrinkled his nose at the stench of vomit.

Without lifting up her head, she gave him a thumbs up before falling back against the bed.

“I am never drinking again,” she stated, voice hoarse.

Jeez, how much did she actually drink to be this hungover.

He snorted, “How are you feeling?” He asked, but she instantly shushed him and he forgot how loud he might sound to her. It felt like a jackhammer drilling into her skull. “Sorry,” he whispers.

“Like I’ve been run over. By a truck,” she groans. Wincing, because everything hurt.

He went over to the window and pulled the blinds up about a quarter way, so the room was still dark enough, then opened the window to get some fresh air in here.

“Why don’t you go shower?” He mused, seeing her rumpled state. Hair matted to her forehead, face pale with nausea.

“I think I’m just going to wait here,” she winced, eyes shut.

“For what?” He scrunched his nose in confusion.

“Sleep? Death? I don’t know,”

He chucked before telling her again: “Go on, shower,”

“That’s if I can even stand,” she muttered before weakly swinging her legs over the bed frame and pushing herself up, grasping onto her headboard.

Freddy stepped forward, grasping her arms and helping her up.

He wrapped an arm around her and helped her hobble to the bathroom.

She smiled at him gratefully and locked the door as he stepped back.

She heard his retreating footsteps and she limped over to the sink and almost had an aneurysm at the sight in the mirror.

She looked dreadful. Her eyes widened alarmingly. How hadn’t Freddy ran away yet?

She groaned quietly. Her eyes were so bloodshot ,that it was genuinely scary, which stuck out even more on her extremely pale face. Her hair was matted in all kinds of ways which made her wonder if she would ever be able to detangle it. Her makeup was smudged and sticky and her party dress was all rumpled.

She stripped off everything in record time and practically cried in relief when that cool water hit her skin.

Meanwhile, after he had cleaned out her bin and replaced it, Freddy set to making breakfast for them. He had settled on a simple avocado on toast for Y/N seeing as she couldn’t stomach much anyway.

For himself, he decided on scrambled eggs and started making them.

The eggs hit the pan in a sizzle and he started to smile to himself as he heard Y/N humming in the other room, sure it was tuneless and random but he loved seeing her comfortable around him.

As he plated the eggs and placed them on her small dining table, he heard the shower turn off and the bathroom door open.

He scoffed down his breakfast in record time, not haven eaten dinner from the night before.

When he finished he washed his plate and left it in the rack for drying.

He gave her a few more minutes before picking up her breakfast and walked to her bedroom door.

“Come in,” she said, voice hoarse.

He opened the door and crossed over the dim room to her bed and lowered the plate beside her.

“I’m not hungry,” she sighs.

He frowns before raising his eyebrows, “You need to eat,”

“No,”

“Yes,”

She stuck her tongue out at him before grabbing the plate and taking a small tentative bite.

Then she let out a soft sound of pleasure: “Oh this is so good,” she moaned, crumbs dropping to her bed frame which she brushed away.

“Stubborn woman,” he muttered, smiling.

“What did you say?” She raised her eyebrow.

“Nothing, nothing,” he chuckled, and felt himself blushing.

“Better be,” she smiled back, heat creeping up her face, invisible in the dark room.

*****

They were both sitting on the sofa watching a movie, despite Freddy’s half hearted arguments that he should leave now, when someone knocked on the door.

He placed his empty soup bowl on the table.

Freddy looked at Y/N before he got up and walked to the door.

Y/N paused the TV and turned her attention to the door, curious to see who was there.

Freddy pulled it open, only to find Jack standing there.

“Oh,” Jack gasped, double-taking over Freddy’s frame before his eyes widened. “Hi,”

Freddy’s face went red, not expecting any of their friends to see them like this.

“It's not what it looks like Jack,” Y/N tried to call but her voice cracked half-way through the sentence.

“I’m here to drop off Y/N’s phone,” he explained, handing it over to Freddy, amusement lighting his eyes, this was unexpected. “She left it in my car,”

“Thanks,” Freddy smiled, not knowing what else to say at this moment.

“Well I’ll leave you guys too it,” he smiled, waving them both goodbye and instantly pulling out his phone as he started down the hall, no doubt to tell the group.

Freddy waved him off awkwardly and shut the door behind him.

He turned back to Y/N sniggering on the sofa like a child.

“Oh shut up,” he rolled his eyes, handing her her phone back.

“You look so embarrassed,” she laughed.

“I'm not,” he countered, laughing along with her.

She pressed play on the movie and they both settled back down to watch it.

Eventually, she had shuffled right close to Freddy, leaning against him with his arm around her.

She looked up at him and whispered in his ear even though there was no one around.

“Thanks for nursing me back to health,”

He looked down at her face and pushed a strand of hair back, smiling back.

“Anytime,”

———————————

So its finally written!

Thank u very much for the request and I hope I did it justice.

Please reblog and comment for what other fics you would like to see! (Check out my first post for characters I write for)

Have a fabulous day/night and thank u for reading!

#freddy carter x reader #freddy carter #shadow and bone cast #kit young #amita suman #danielle galligan #jack wolfe #calahan skogman #six of crows

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nijigasakilove · 1 month

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Of course one of the greatest anime ever made had to go out with a bang. A beach episode with enormita and tres magia is exactly what the girls and us as fans needed.

Erotica and fan service was on point today starting from the very beginning of the episode with that dressing room shot. The girls looked great in their swimming suits.

Man I’m really gonna miss Kaoruko and Kiwi trying to kill each other and constantly at each other throats. They were absolutely hilarious all season long, but especially in this finale. Just fighting nonstop like cats and dogs lol.

I KNEW the octopus on Kiwi head wasn’t just a coincidence. Little Chekov’s rifle, or in this case, tentacle. Fitting that it’s Kaoruko who gets the brunt of it after making fun of Kiwi for having an octopus on her head lmao. They held nothing back in that scene, after last week’s pussy massage I didn’t think it could get crazier but it did. Straight up violated her then drank her tears man wtf 😭

Sayo and Utena bonded a lot earlier in the episode, so it’s only right the big battle is between Baiser and Azure in the finale and man her new transformation looks so damn cool. That transformation sequence was great and the design is just perfect. Totally wiped the floor with Baiser and Enormita. Fitting since she started the season getting her ass beat by Baiser lol

And then a nice nighttime beach scene to send us off. Utena really has got so many friends now and she’s come so far since we first met her. You can really see Baiser bleeding through more into her every day personality, just in terms of her confidence. Her role as leader of Enormita and having her friends around her has truly brought her out her shell.

Awesome finale for an amazing show. Did justice to the source. Will be missed

Review: https://myanimelist.net/reviews.php?id=519929

#mahou shoujo #mahoako #mahou shoujo ni akogarete #gushing over magical girls #gushing magical girls #animanga #animangahive

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bunnieshoneys · 4 months

Note

i voted hockey but ONLY because there was no "both" option!! but listen, i'm starting to think you have crawled into my brain somehow, because i feel like your stsg fic is for meeeee

much like i waited and waited for an f1 au, i periodically check up for figure skating fic and hockey fic and now you're telling me??? that you????

give us the hcs plsssss

(also also i haven't had a chance to read the new oneshot yet but i am ALL OVER that shit tomorrow)

ily!!

ill do figure skating purely because i am a figure skater, not a hockey player, and i would wanna do quite a bit of research into how NHL drafts work in canada / the US before id write it but a lot of these probably could apply to both aus

- gojo singles skater, one of the greats, holds some world records (id base his skating off nathan chen’s or yuzuru hanyu’s, probably) and he keeps trying to land 4a even though yaga chews him out for it

- shoko / getou in pairs (PAIRS, NOT ICE DANCE!!!!!!) and they’re pretty dominant too

- getou used to skate singles and had a rivalry with gojo in early juniors but switched to pairs after a minor injury that made it difficult for him to continue to work quads/triple axel. shoko can land quad throws though

- yuuji, megumi and nobara are all singles skaters, still in juniors

- mechamaru and miwa are ice dancers :)

- yaga coaches all the singles skaters

- gojo does biellman spins which are rare for men - hes flexible compared to his competitors

- haibara is a hockey player and hes like the figure skaters’ pet even though they all hate hockey players

- thinking about making maki and yuta a pairs team but honestly they also could both be in singles

- yuki and choso were in pairs until choso sustained a pretty major injury, yuki coaches getou and shoko now

- yuki and choso ice dance on a national level post retirement

- most of them work the counter at the ice rink for extra cash, especially the juniors who are straight up BROKE lol

- gojo is super popular with the locals and when he comes into the rink everyone starts behaving immediately

- gojo and getou, when they work the counter together, have this uncanny ability to a) not bang into each other and b) to send hand signals at each other from across the rink so that they can steal penguin skate aids from children who are annoying them

- nanami is the long suffering rink manager, who used to skate singles but got priced out of the sport, when he comes down to actually work the counter they all know theyre in deep shit

- gojo’s best jump is 3A and 4Lz and his technique is pretty perfect too

- toji is banned from the sport for pulling a tonya harding

- yuji started late but he’s annoyingly good at picking stuff up fast. he turned up at the rink begging gojo for lessons and gojo was like alright kid seeing you fall will be fun and then yuji is acc mad good and gojo’s like .. wait..

- megumi is the most technically proficient of the three, he has a quad salchow and a triple axel, yuuji has a quad flip and a quad lutz but can’t land a 3a to save his life (hes working on it!)

- mai would be like trusova/valieva/sherbakova. horrible technique but quads!

- nobara has a 3A which makes her competitive, but yaga refuses to teach her quads

-stsg dating rumours at the rink go round every year at xmas. theres a betting pool for when theyll finally get together. only shoko getou and gojo know theyre already dating and have been since their junior days

- nanami also knows, but doesnt care

- gojo drives the zamboni and honks at kids who watch and getou rides on the back sometimes

- yuji asks to learn how to drive the zamboni and gets it stuck. he never asks again

- megumi throws a penguin at an annoying customer one time on christmas eve because they come back and ask to switch skate sizes six times in thirty minutes

- getou’s artistry and musicality is unmatched but gojo’s performances are almost as good

- gojo shakes the vending machines to get free food even though hes a millionaire from sponsorships

- theyre based in japan! :]

anyways yeah my thoughts on this au is that it would be SO SILLY

#bunny answers #jjk #jjk figure skating au #jjk au

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slutforfiction · 9 days

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"GUILTY AS SIN" = GWYNRIEL (PSA THIS IS MY OPINION MY ANALYSIS MY SPECULATION! its for fun only-) On this day saturday 20th of april 2024 9:18pm AEST time i am officially calling that guilty as sin is was and always will be ABOUT GWYNRIEL. SPECIFICALLY GWYN BERDARA. the signs are all there sjm said so herself that it was on repeat but whose she writing it to??! Well acotar 6 is next, so shes prob writing about azriel whose a potential love interest? GWYN. "Drownin' in the Blue Nile" Gwyns a river nymph and the Blue Nile is a holy river, gwyns a priestess, she doesn't wear her "holy" invoking stone so it could be like shes drowning in unworthiness/feeling unholy "My boredom's bone-deep This cage was once just fine" Cage= the library, if i was a writer id make the peak of gwyns arc 'completed' if she leaves the library- it would symbolise freedom and healing with the strength to go face the world, the library would be her "cage"- once fine with staying in the library but wanting to leave it. gwyn talks about leaving the library at one point too "I dream of crackin' locks Throwin' my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks" Cracking locks (her trauma) that binds her to fear and anxiety. Throwing her life away to the fears- or the 'wolves' that she battles with. Or even the ocean rocks, shes part river nymph and it wouldn't come as any surprise if she misses the water and the ocean.

"Crashin' into him tonight, he's a paradox" SELF EXPLANITORY- azriels literally a paradox of a person, gwyn 'crashes into him tonight'

"I'm seeing visions Am I bad or mad or wise?" Could be alluded to her trauma, visions of what happened and the self doubt that comes with it. "I keep recalling things we never did Messy top lip kiss, how I long for our trysts" Fantasies, as a self appointed smut reader...we know all about it gwyn ;) "Without ever touchin' his skin" THE POWER IN THIS- the importance of emotional intimacy before physical intimacy though?!? (Although for the song itself its just about horny fantasies so maybe i shouldnt think too deep into this one...) "How can I be guilty as sin?"

Firm believer of gwynriel friends to lovers and lets be honest it feels pretty sinful to think about your friend sexually- "What if the way you hold me is actually what's holy?" The holy way of holding somebody without the sexual physical aspects, the emotional way they have the power to hold each other up in both emotionally and mentally?!? Gwynriel.

"How i long for his tryst without ever touching my skin" BANG GWYNRIEL CODED its so important for gwyn and az to have that emotional intimacy (ik ive mentioned that word approx 2395728357 times) to understand each other and their inner workings before focusing on their bodies, for az, his hands/scars doesn't define who he is as a person and people need to SEE az for who he is, all his flaws and personality and quirks. For gwyn sex wouldn't be the first thing she focuses on (it COULD be) but after what shes been through i believe she'd focus on emotionally getting to know somebody fully, letting them see her soul, personality, who she is. And physically touching somebody doesn't have to be the first priority ESPECIALLY WITH GWYN AND AZ.

"They don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly I choose you and me religiously"

They could haunt each others every thoughts, the romantic aspect AND BEING EACH OTHERS FIRST CHOICE?!? like- Well there concludes my rant guys :))

#gwynriel #acotar #sjm #sjm universe

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beansprean · 2 years

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My life as told by hair

(ID in cut and alt)

[ID: Bust drawings showing stages of the artist's hair by age. 0 to 3: Bald! A tiny white egghead baby with blueish eyes frowning with a pink bow stuck to their head. Text reads: "bow glued on so people wouldn't 'mis'gender me at Walmart." 3 to 5: hairspray helmet. A slightly taller child with green eyes and short blonde hair slicked back at the top and sides and held down by clips, excess curling behind the ears. Text points to clips and specifies "butterfly clips". 5 to 7: 'cut my own bangs' consequences. A slightly taller child in a black tee shirt with a T-Rex on it that says "T-W-r-e-c-k-s". They are grinning with buck teeth, curly blonde hair carved into a sloppy mullet with various clips holding back uneven bangs. Text points out "buck teeth", "whoops mullet", and "real shirt I had". 7 to 10: feral Gene Wilder. Older but not taller child with a wild mane of white-blonde ringlet curls, deeply tanned skin, and a giant grin with the front teeth missing. Text points out "teeth will grow back bigger" and "deepest farmers tan in the 5th grade". 10 to 14: brush mistakes. A taller, slightly less tan preteen wearing small oval glasses and frowning, shoulderblade-length dark blond hair wavy and frizzy from being brushed out. Text points out "achieved eyebrows" and "did not know how curls worked because I was the only one in the fam with 3a". 14 to 16: socially mandated straightening. A teen (no taller than before) in the same oval glasses and frown, wearing a happy bunny tee shirt. Their hair is straight, damaged-looking, down to the waist, and dyed a muddy reddish-orange. Text points out: "loooong" and "red hair dye experiment results in sloppy joe color". 16 to 18: big curly!! A slightly less tan but no taller teen looking very surprised to see their hair, now blonde with darker roots but just as long, is fluffed up with big ringlet curls. They are wearing a red shirt that says "bitch" in the coca-cola font. Text points out "got contacts" and "you ever forget? cuz I forgot". 18 to 21: baby's first lesbian combover. A young adult grinning happily in a sweatshirt that reads "what about second breakfast", hair buzzed short at one side and loose ear-length curls flopping over onto the other. Text reads: "tfw you find the one dyke hairdresser in the county". 21 to 25: manbun era. Now in a tee shirt and plaid flannel with black studs in their ears, the young adult smiles slyly. Their hair is buzzed short on both sides, the top bleached out and tied into a loose bun. Text reads: "tfw the one dyke hairdresser in the county moves away so now you cut it yourself". 25 to present: green period. Now caught up to the present, the artist gives a big smile and makes a 'ta-da' pose. Their hair is cut in a sloppy bowl, curls sticking up randomly every which way, and dyed bright green (sideburns visibly brown). They are wearing a black tank top with a skull and have a few indistinct tattoos on each arm. Text reads: "the transmascening" /end ID]

#self portrait #hair journey #hey artists everyone do this it’s fun #my art #personal #would this be considered a #draw my life #?#ok to rb!!

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tabibitto · 2 years

Text

Until I Met You | Xiao x GN reader oneshot

character - xiao

Ship - Gender Neutral Reader x Xiao

Type - Hurt with Comfort, nsfw mentions, memories and mentions of self harm scars, some fluff :)

AN: i was feeling sad today for no reason and decided to share whatever came to mind as i think of my golden boy.

“Bosacious and the others always thought that when the world would be at peace, that they would want to live a mortal life. I think….I was the only one who didn’t think that way..”

Until I met you…

My world, ever since i gained consciousness, it was always cold and bitter. It stunk of dead and rot.

I remember my body shaking like id stepped out the shower, bare and into a cold room.

Truth was, no matter the temperature..the shaking never stopped.

I remember my stomach, how i loathed it and sometimes wished to rip it out with my bare hands and eat it how id devoured so many dreams.

Its emptiness brought down my energy..my head felt fuzzy and i felt a headache so heavy and piercing in my pale forehead it felt unbearably painful to open my eyes.

I remember the cold headaches i recieved during winter. Though i ate dreams, they provided no nourishment. No true nourishment for my body.

Thus, the soft yet bitingly cold snow beneath my shaking form, would fill my blood stained mouth.

The colors mixing into a pale salmon. My brows furrowed as i fought the cold in my body. It had no taste, but since nothing happened, I thought it was fine.

“You can’t eat snow silly! Its on the ground it has bacteria babe you could get sick!”

Oh.

“Hmph, mortals are truly and pathetically tragic if mere consumption of snow could make one sick.”

That day, his frown towards the white hills that adorned Liyue’s usual sunny weather deepened. His thin lips parted and he jerked back upon feeling warm touch connect with the cheeks he didnt know were cold.

He looked down at your figure with those golden yellow eyes, which you had insisted looked like that of a cat, and only under your gaze were they ones of a small kitten starved of touch, Foreign to love.

He had let out a sigh as your hand snuggly cupped his cheeks, his head melting into your hands.

God were they warm.

So warm and comfy.

So loving and gentle when they traced over the scars on my arm. Those id inflicted long ago.

What was strange however, is that whenever i brushed them in the same way…i could not feel tears of want and desire for comfort and love. But a dull and growing ache, an itch for more. It reminded me of the reason they were there, of why any touch sparked the thought again, and i could merely scratch away to not make new scars.

Yet when you grazed your gentle and slender fingers over my marked skin, the gentle thud of my heart suddenly banged against my ears in shame…and when you dipped your head down from behind me, pressing your ever so soft and sweet lips on each disgusting mark—

“Theyre not gross my darling..” Their voice read his mind, hushing thoughts and demanding silence. It received pure devotion and obedience as a response.

Xiao leaned back and let out a soft whimper as his eyes filled with tears that unfortunately blurred his lover’s pretty figure.

His whimpers got louder and his body shook as the kisses on his wrists and hand got higher, over the gentle curve of his shoulder, into the depths of his neck and the plush of his cheek. Before meeting the soft yet cracked entrance of his lips.

Your lips were so soft too, and warm. So addicting, every time they slid from mine i needed more. I needed it harder, faster. Wetter. I needed all of you. We ended our nights sweaty and sleepy as a result on multiple occasions

But we never fucked…not usually. Though it was arguably more pleasurable to the body. Nothing was more blissful to me then the gentle jerks of my hips meeting yours, the way my hands slid across the thin layer of sweat that coated your body, gently pressing a thumb into your mouth before kissing you sweetly.

Your sweet and hesitant sounds of pleasure, sounds i caused you to make.

You were my drug, and i had no intention on getting sober.

No, i needed more. Nothing was ever enough. A kiss should be made two. Hugs turned into snuggles.

Your pretty moans became strings of whimpers and gasps. A beautiful song only for my ear to hear.

There were many ballads of yours i enjoyed too. Many which i did not know i needed.

Until I met you..

When you sung gentle whispers into my ear, your fingers slipping under my mask and revealing my twisted grin and dull eyes. Bringing to it a lively tenderness and life.

“Your enough.”

“Your all mine.”

“Im yours.”

“Ill always be yours.”

“My pretty baby~”

How enchanting…how…how do i deserve to hear such gentle whispers from a kind soul. For a ragged body, full of hatred and blood that oozed down my hands of both the innocent and the traitors

For such dirtied hands to touch you, feel you, pleasure you and hold your own. It felt sinful

But when I stare into your eyes. A Bloom of Kaleidos. Warm and Carrying a world inside. A world where only me and you exist. A perfect world. Much different from the terrors and unjust one we sit in now.

Never in my 2,000 years of life have I ever desired to give or receive love, physical intimacy, quality time, words of affirmation, acts of service, gift giving…

Until I met you

I was born with what my master called a gift. But what everyone around me, including myself thought of as a curse.

I could eat dreams, nightmares. I was..different. My difference not only made me an outcast, but it made me a bloodhound for a person who sought to use my body for their advantage, using the things i needed emotionally to manipulate me. Until i needed nothing no more

Strings that held my limbs, that controlled my every thought and move, every word and bite of food. It all needed my masters precise approval. Until i required nothing else

I was a puppet

I was nothing. I came from nothing.

Arguably, i am still, indeed nothing.

My only purpse has been to slaughter, protect through slaughter, defend through slaughter.

Perhaps this reason, which has been imbedded into the minds of every yaksha, is why Brother Bosacious died doing that very thing.

He was kind, playful, strong.

And out of everything he ever desired, a mortal life. A family…in the end,through his insanity….the only thing his lost mind could guide him to was slaughter

I contemplate at times, if being with you truly is okay. If this is truly right as much as it feels like it is. If perhaps one day, through all we have been through. Even my mind will trade the fond and comforting memory of you for something so…pathetic.

If one day you will mean nothing to me, if one day you become an obstacle, one day you become another number in the vast of my dead

For this, is when i fail you. When your soft voice in the wind that calls out my name, my gifted name.

At first with curiosity…concern..before the shake and sadness in your tone is all too clear. Like it was whispered to me.

It hurts…it hurts me to hurt you…but.

As a yaksha. The last living yaksha. I am bound to an end of misery. To insanity. This, even Rex Lapis who saved me from my suffering cannot undo my fate.

Until i met you did my death and life mean little to me. The days were simple. The nights were quiet and empty. The sting of a cut a mere bite of a fly. The thought of my end in madness, the agony of my karmic debt. Things i looked at fearless

Now…i long for a millennia to come. I long for when my quiet nights are filled with your voice, the sweet sounds of your pretty whimpers in pleasure. The calm breathing of your sleeping body as i hold it dear to my chest. Every fight is fought more carefully, as I do not wish to see your brows furrowed in worry. Every agonizing moment of my karma, how i loathe for its end much more. I cannot stand your crying

I wish to eradicate the earth of whats made you so sad. The sound of which annoyed when i was alone me now angers me when in with you, fills me with despair. With want for nothing but to replace your frowns into smiles, in whichever way i can.

The fate i knew more then anything, clearer then a crystalfly, inevitable as the rise of a new day…i fear nothing more.

Until I met you, have i now succumbed to mortal fear and emotion for misery and death.

Because now I will bear the responsibility that is you. One i have honored since the day i made you my first promise

Call out my name, Adeptus Xiao. I will be here when you call

No matter what. I will fight my own fate with my two hands. No matter who I have to hurt, how i have to battle, i will always return to you as unharmed as can be. No matter how..in pain i am. I will always be strong for you. Because of you, do i have someone to live for, fight for. Because of you do I fear the debt i cannot escape. Because of you do I crave to feel love. A selfish request. Something undeserving of your gentle hands and soft lips.

Because of our promise, our contract. Will I forever remain yours, no matter how much of my mind is lost to my unchanging fate of madness, the only thing i will know is you. Even if one day i do not remember your name, your touch. I will never be able to forget the person who saved me…not from a master, or a battle, or the smell of approaching death. But the human who saved me from myself.

Even as Adeptus Xiao stares into the dark blue sky, lit from within the faraway lights of Liyue Harbor. Was his night no longer empty. But loud with thoughts of his lover. His past, his future, his present. How this date, upon all the days of the year was the happiest hes been. Happiness…hah…a word that truly does not belong to the Guardian Yaksha.

And yet, he so selfishly took it for himself when he realized how much he loved the person sitting next to them. How the xiao lantern in their hands illuminated the thoughtful face in the dark that wished for better days, for a good meal tomorrow, for wealth. All the common wants of mortals he heard a dozen times over the many Lantern Rites hes lived through.

Every prayer for good health, every desire for the dream guy or girl. Every wish for something so mundane as Mora. He heard it all. It was all background noise at this point since the foundation of the city he was bound to.

Yet, among all the hushed and thrilled voices. The loudest was their calm and shy whisper, as gentle as the breeze. No other wish was more important then this:

‘I wish for many more lantern rites with Alatus, I pray for his health, I pray for his happiness, I wish i could love him as much as hes loved me all these years’

Alatus could see the gentle pink decorating his lovers cheek as they whispered, knowing he could hear their wish before the lantern was released among all the others. Though they never talked about how he could. Instead, they pretended it was a secret for the sake of the festival

He could feel warm liquid pool in his eyes as he stared at them, feeling his tight jaw unclench, his cheeks and face melt into the warm light of the fire in the lantern. How he couldnt stop the movement of the corners of his lips as he gazed.

‘How could I ever deserve you…’

“Done! Your turn my sweetn—”

They stopped, frozen as they stared at the short male across from their spot on the grass.

He was smiling…Xiao never smiled.

The little human’s lips began to tremble in joy as they stared at his happy face, and all before they could break into a sob, did the man lean in to leave a gentle kiss, calming the quiver of their mouth.

“I wish that…no matter happens to me. That i never forget you..until i met you nothing mattered. Now, you are what I fight for, my dear. I daresay…i would break any oath…all for you..”

#genshin fic #genshin impact fanfic #adeptus xiao #xiao #xiao fluff #xiao smut #xiao x you #xiao x reader #hurt/comfort #self h@rm #cuddles #xiao comfort #oneshot #genshin impact fluff #genshin imagines #genshin drabbles #genshin impact scenarios #alatus

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astradreaming · 1 year

Text

Last Man Standing...

A/N: It's mostly the Marble Hornets storyline but I sort of added the Creepypasta proxy storyline (at least for Hoodie), so I hope it makes sense <3 ♡ Hope you enjoy it! Have a good day/night lovely's ♡ Word count: 1,215

masterlist

You hadn't heard from your beloved boyfriend, Tim in a couple days. Although it wasn't something that was necessarily unusual as of lately he'd become more and more distant. Leaving unannounced from your flat randomly, not calling or texting for days at a time and not seeing each other in person sometimes for as long as a couple of weeks at a time.

He'd brush it off, different excuses each time, his boss wanted him to work overtime, an old college friend needed help with some film, his friend needed help finding his missing girlfriend. It was all very strange and didn't help soothe your anxieties and worries.

However every time he'd come over, come home. He'd be himself. He'd be apologetic and make up for the days he'd missed with you. It wasn't until one night he'd banged on your door at 3am. His hair was a mess, clothes were equally dirty. Standing next to him a also tired and messed up Jay who stood behind Tim awkwardly.

The two had cleaned up and you'd heated up some leftovers for them. After setting Jay up on the couch for what was left of the night. Tim hadn't wanted to talk about it, he'd said in the morning. Yet when morning came the pair were gone. That was three weeks ago. You hadn't heard from Tim or Jay. Neither responding to your call or texts.

Flicking through the Netflix shows, you decided to re-watch your favourite show for the hundredth time. Halfway through you got up to make a cup of tea. Trying to relax after your long day. Lately, you'd have a bad headache you couldn't get rid of. It never got worse it was just aching.

Just as the jug flicked off, finally finished boiling. Your phone rang. jay's caller ID glared up at you. Instantly picking it up, you were met with quiet static.

"Jay?"

Nothing. Static.

Then his voice. It seemed distant, he was yelling. Something about a school?

"Jay? What's going on? What school?" Pure confusion and worried filled your senses.

Alex! Alex's old school. What was he doing there?

"Jay, what's happened?"

He sounded scared, panicked like a wild animal. The static was coming back slowly. Something about Alex being dangerous and something about Tim?

"Is he okay?"

The static came back but you could make out a yelling, angry voice. Alex.

A loud bang rang out through the phone. It was loud like a- Like a gunshot!

"Jay!"

"Hello?"

The static got worse, so bad you had to pull the phone away from your ear. Then your phone cut out.

Looking back at your phone, the call ended apparently on jay's end. Then your phone died. Weird you'd just charged it...

Grabbing your keys, you run to your car. Alex's school. Only an hour or so away...

The school must have been on break. There was only Tim's car out the front. Seeing a hall down the road with the door flung open, you begin to run toward it.

Creaking open the door, the old wooden hall stretched out before you. Heading in you called for Tim. Turning a corner you reached a pair of glass doors, a figure lay still on the ground there. You quickly pushed the doors open, kneeling before the man in a ski mask. He was wearing a worn yellow hoodie, and the ski mask had a red stitched frowny face.

Just as you'd begun to remove his mask, he seemingly began to awake. What a strange place to sleep. But who were you to judge. He groaned and flinched away from the light grasp you had on the man.

"Are you alright?"

He seemed to be what you assumed was staring at you. Maybe he couldn't speak?

"Do you know where a Tim or Jay is? They're supposed to be here somewhere? Do you know them?"

All he did was stand up, and point to a set of dark brown doors across the room, before leaving where you just came from.

"O-okay thanks!" You managed to yell out as he'd left the room

On you went through the building...

Walking through a long dark decrepit hallway. There on one of the many doorways was a smeared bloody handprint, running into the room you were met with nothing. It was just another dusty empty room. Except for the small pool of blood on the floor near the wall... without its owner.

"Tim? Jay?" Your shaky voice echoed through the abandoned walls.

You decided to keep going forward. Finally reaching the end of the hallway, was a staircase going both up and down. Looking down, the further it went the darker it got, you couldn't even see the bottom.

Going against every horror movie ever, you went up the stairs. Turning around and around. Up and up. When you turned yet another corner, there lay a camera at your feet. Looking up at the stairs in front, Tim. Blood covering his hands up to his elbows, face down on the floor hanging off onto the stairs.

"Tim!"

Rushing up to him, your shaking hands grabbing his shoulders, turning him around.

"Tim, you've gotta wake up!" Shaking him as you had many other times when he would refuse to wake up earlier than he'd like in the mornings when he'd stay at your place.

"Tim, baby please" Your voice cracked. Tears stream down your face, falling onto his arm soaking in the blood.

You don't know how long you'd sat there holding onto him, trying to wipe the blood away with your hands, the blood now dried and stained both of you. When he jolted awake like he'd woke from a nightmare. His face contorted in pain, not physical that much you knew. His hands found you, clinging onto you a bit too tight to be comfortable but you couldn't feel it, too relieved to see him awake, alive.

"Tim w-"

He cut you off, hands cradling your face. His eyes scanned, searching you.

"Are- Are you hurt?" His voice was scratchy as if he'd been yelling for too long, he mumbled as if he didn't really want any other answer than 'No'.

"Are you? What happened? Where's Jay? Whose blood is that? Jay said something about Alex? W-"

"I-i'll explain it, explain everything" He sighed and placed his forehead against yours, eyes tightly shut.

"It'll be okay, everything's fine now."

"I don't understand Tim"

You were about to tell him about the man you'd seen earlier when a faint buzzing filled your head. It felt funny. Suddenly that was all you could focus on. The way it felt. Like tv static but inside your head.

Your sight on Tim became blurry, he seemed to look stressed, and scared. Even though he was right next to you, you could feel his hands on you, he seemed so far away. It was like he was getting further and further away. In the corner of your eye, blurry black tentacle-like things came closer as if the owner of said tentacles was right behind you. When suddenly all you saw was black. You could faintly hear the course yelling from Tim, after a while it all went quiet.

Was this Death? Or was this something else?

The Ark.

#marble hornets #marble hornets x reader #tim wright #tim wright x reader #jay merrick #alex kraile #hoodie #brian thomas

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lesboygamzee · 5 months

Text

ACT ONE - PART ONE

in reading homestuck again im going to try my best to analyse it to my fullest potential ; while i definitely like to enjoy homestuck Casually i think that doesnt necessarily mean i need to abandon fullblown analysis . i can acknowledge Hard Canon and The Implications in the same way i can acknowledge silly stuff + how im usually going to write characters . something something you have to know the rules to break them . thisll be half rambling half ( poor ) attempts at analysis and a bit of me going Hehe joke funny also i will use the characterses canon names and pronouns for simplicity + i feel its most suited . the exception is tavros because i have tried to not she/her tavros before and it was difficult and Painful i would never do that to her ... anyway .

[…] My intent was always to make the start date a very significant number in the story, recurring frequently. Consequently, I decided to make him thirteen years old, thus making the story about four thirteen-year-old kids. There are more references to this number than can be mentioned casually, some of which are serendipitous. Playing cards, which have a good deal of relevance later, are comprised of four suits of thirteen cards each, for instance.

(page 1 author commentary)

i wont point out every case of 413 occurring but i will point out cases i find particularly interesting or fun :o) the suit of cards thing isnt something i picked up on at first but thats interesting to know ! on page two john is incorrectly named ' zoosmell pooplord ' . zoosmell being a reference to an older comic ( series of comics ? ) of hussies . i read it to see if theres anything of value i can find in there ; even in the silliest and least plot driven media you can find some sort of significance to an authors later work . maybe an idea , a character archetype , or just the plot structure . zoosmells holds no value at all and is stupid though so

im not sure if i talk about it much but i do really like how each main characterses room is in homestuck . not only are they typically really good at getting across a characters basic interests but early on with the beta kids they really sold the whole ' webcomic pretending to be a game ( that is actually a game pretending to be a webcomic ) ' thing . the simplicity of it all , the items of interest scattered around in sometimes nonsensical places , even shit like how the walls are drawn just gives the impression of a guy who you can walk around and play as . and you can ! eventually .

Your name is JOHN. As was previously mentioned it is your BIRTHDAY. A number of CAKES are scattered about your room. You have a variety of INTERESTS. You have a passion for REALLY TERRIBLE MOVIES. You like to program computers but you are NOT VERY GOOD AT IT. You have a fondness for PARANORMAL LORE, and are an aspiring AMATEUR MAGICIAN. You also like to play GAMES sometimes. What will you do?

(page 4) time for analysing interests . while characterses interests definitely dont mean NOTHING in the greater scheme of things theyre probably not as important as most other shit . i find them fun to look into , though :o3

really terrible movies - i need to actually watch these , and i plan to ! im not much of a movie guy unfortunately . i dont think theyll be the end all be all of john analysis but i doubt theyll hold NO value . apparently theyre quite shit but i willing watch the big bang theory so i think ill be fine programming computers - john is the ' player character ' in a story that is currently quite programming-joke-heavy . the fact that hes kind of dogshit at it adds to this . guy doesnt know what hes doing yet and neither do you ! simple enough . paranormal lore - johns interest in ghosts is relatively significant but id consider it more ' iconic ' . the guy likes ghostbusters , his tshirt is a knockoff slimer , etc. i think all of the kids have one of these . it doesnt matter much in the greater scheme of things but i think its cool to see what interest a character is sort of built off of even if it gets overshadowed by other shit quickly ameteur magician - im a little lost on this one honestly . it can kind of go hand in hand with pranks i guess ? maybe theres something worth looking into with regards to characters and their relationship with magic . john seems to specifically focus on magic tricks which is opposed to roses interest in Real Fucking Magic . probably not though thats stupid

on page six is a rare appearence of the cursor . its a remnant from the homestuck beta where every panel was going to be a flash panel . it was ditched for good reason

its also one of the most blatant parts of the video game feel of early homestuck . thats a reader input interacting with a fictional world ! thats all there really is to say on it though i just thought it was neat

biggest plot twist in fucking history

You stow the SMOKE PELLETS on one of your CAPTCHALOGUE CARDS in your SYLLADEX.

(page 9)

i love sylladexes . johns is obviously based off a stack data structure . john rose and dave all have data structure inspsired moduses which i appreciate but i kind of like the silly ones that come into play later on too !!! like all of jades . unfortunate that they get dropped almost entirely eventually :o(

i should give characters that dont get one them . theyre pretty awesome i think

John: Examine Problem Sleuth Poster.

PROBLEM SLEUTH MENTION !!!!!!!!!!!

John: Read note on drawer. This note is rich with the aromas of FATHERLY AFTERSHAVES AND COLOGNES.

(page 12)

i made a seperate post awhile back on how dadbert is a sort of symbol of masculinity of fatherhood of manhood etc etc and more specifically how this interacts with reading jeggbert as transfem or otherwise Not A Dude . i still think that holds some decent value

In any case, you now feel like you have gathered enough things to get down to business and do some really important stuff. The next thing you do will probably be exceptionally meaningful. John: Squawk like an imbecile and shit on your desk.

(page 15)

snrk . anyway , since it reminded me : regarding analysis that strongly take timelines into consideration when i look at a lot of homestuck character analysis i see a lot of people try and make a point of ' oh the homestuck characters dont actually HAVE these specific character traits because in ANOTHER TIMELINE they did so and so ' and while i get that , timelines are interesting as a concept and its fun to think about , it doesnt exactly have a place in character analysis . homestuck is ultimately a story and the characters are less like people and moreso tools to tell that story . this is simple shit i am well aware i am not acting like what i am saying is revolutionary but it does lead to people losing the plot a little ( literally lol ) but like .. character a doing something instead of character b or character c sparing character d or whatever blah blah blah . did these all happen ? yeah sure probably . hell you can explore that in an au and ill probably go ' woah , cool ! ' because again its fun to think about . but it doesnt matter .. homestuck tells a story and while it focuses on multiple timelines . just because john took a shit on his desk in one timeline doesnt mean i need to be factoring in ' probably took a shit on his desk at least once ' to how i write him as a character . he would not fucking do that because he does not do that in homestuck . go and write your shit-on-desk-taker!john au but it has no place in canon analysis and you dont really need to think about it all that much

typheus is a wind god etc etc basic observation . i would really like to read more on the denizens and what gods theyre inspired by but the sources i find are really long and hard to parse .. ill have to look at other peopleses analysis if i want to understand anything i will be honest

on page 25 is the first pesterlog to appear in homestuck , between john and some loser nobody cares about . in a post i unfortunately dont have the link to , said loser is compared to a sort of tutorial character for early homestuck , similarly to johns status as the player character . obviously as homestuck goes on more characters become ' playable ' , as in you see the story through their perspective . but its a pretty neat observation for the early comic !

TG: but who cares about this lets stop talking about it TG: did you get the beta yet EB: no. EB: did you? TG: man i got two copies already [...] TG: why dont you go check your mail maybe its there now EB: alright.

(page 26)

^ classic tutorial conversation . go do your objective !!! your first quest !!!!

[...] The red flippy-lever thing means you have new mail. And that means the beta might be here!

(page 28)

FACT CHECK : this is false === SHITTY ASCII 'BANNER' THAT OF WE ARE DONE HERE ===

anyway it is day two of me working on twenty eight fucking pages and it just hit midnight which means i am going to play miitopia . this is likely going to be one of the shorter posts but i hope i get less rambly as i go on so i can read more than an average of fourteen pages a day jesus fucking christ . Anyway

#homestuck #gamzreread

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