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#it bugs me in fics where the character just starts telling them how nice it was
scenetocause · 4 months
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director's commentary to the logoscar bfu au :)) <3<3
oh this one (do you think it's cute that i'm so fucking stupid?) is funny because it was meant to be just a dumb idea. like i had it after idk, whatever race (miami???? seems about right) and it wasn't even from watching a bfu thing. like my youtube recommendations came up with some ancient thing where the buzzfeed girlies (gn) from ladylike made over ryan and shane to make them dress like attractive people with jobs in video media not some sports bro who doesn't know how his own hair works yet and a poorly proportioned scarecrow that comes alive at night to kill local virgins.
great content and a brave attempt by the girlies (gn) but i think it was still the better part of half a decade before ryan and shane realised they could simply look nice. a core part of the video though was ryan being like "i have 14 basketball jerseys" and them ALL being whatever los angeles team he jerks it for and i was like oh boy i know one guy who would definitely do this.
the emptyhalf thought process doesn't really go all that much deeper than that a lot of the time but i was like alright sweet i'll rewatch the old bfu eps in the mystery house and kinda mash 'em together a bit. job's a good'un. not difficult to project the insecurities of racing to the insecurities of having jobs at buzzfeed, intimately familiar with one via me and the other via some of my friends.
EXCEPT and perhaps this is my shaniac punishment for a flirtation with hauntology but then i'm like. something is bugging me about this. i started having the dreams oscar has in the fic, about the mystery house and i'm like ???? hello ???? it's a dumb tourist trap in a state i've never been to can you chill out up in there.
something about it was playing on my conscience though and i was like hey winchester lady it ain't me selling the main supply of weapons used to murder native americans you leave me out of this. but still, end up looking shit up and being like OH it's not just a dumb tourist trap it's an actively ahistorical tourist trap that covers up extensive parts of its own sad and weird history with a much less interesting version.
so i'm like. very interesting. stupid. hate this for me. but also there is clearly only one course of action because fic oscar would not want to let this lie because fic oscar is a barely disguised projection of me and we've gotta go back to the mystery house. in this fucking fic that barely anyone's read because it's a weird crossover of an obscure pairing and surely no one gives a damn.
obviously spent several days pairing up old photos of the house and finding out what would work as references and then just writing a load of stuff with my brain fully geared into neutral, as always, anyway. but basically this fic probably had the most work i have put into something for fucking ages in it because i was wracked with the guilt i, ao3 user emptyhalf, in a deeply fictional piece of rpf, might mislead the public about the myth a tourist attraction tells about itself.
to paraphrase my own, other, fic: my characters are unhinged but it's not like i'm very hinged, either. clearly.
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lesbiancolumbo · 9 months
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Hi! Thank you for answering my ask!! I love all your and your wife's takes on them :] I was wondering why you think columbo has a husband? (I completely support the idea and have integrated it into my columbo ideas!! I just like hearing how it came to be! :D)
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lol it happened the same way all of my best ideas happen... as a joke. my wife was the columbo fan long before i got into it, and she finally convinced me to watch one episode just to see how it went. when columbo finally showed up, i saw he wasn't wearing a wedding ring and pointed at the tv screen and yelled GAY. after the episode was over (by which point i was like fully obsessed btw) my wife was like. i can't stop thinking about what you said. and i was like what did i say?? (already forgotten) and she was like you said columbo was gay. how had i never thought about that before. and i was like i mean it was a joke but also it would be an interesting read on the guy if he were just gay and had a man at home that he pretended was his wife. after all this is the 70s. and los angeles too! where are the gays !!!
so it made sense to me. i knew right away as we started watching the series that this guy was a Big liar who banked on getting these killers to relate to him or find him to be such a rube that they underestimated him. it made sense that he would tell complete lies. why not lie about having a wife? was that honestly that much of a stretch??? not to me anyway and the fact that we never saw her helped fuel that angle. i also loved the angle of this working class blue collar homosexual man infiltrating high heterosexual society. it was just fun to think about! we never really conceptualized Columbo's Husband into anything concrete until i started writing my novels length of fic (no you can't read these, i am very sorry, they are amazing tho just trust me) and it came time to make him into a real character. i honestly have to credit my wife for coming up with most of his personality and his name. now he's very real to me and beloved by me. also some of the moments in the series are just more poignant to me in the context of Gay Columbo (like, for example, the moment where his house gets bugged in identity crisis, one of the RARE moments that truly fucks columbo up! almost as if he's been found out or something......)
so honestly that's why. mostly just because i think it's a more interesting read than the standard face value "columbo has a wife" interpretation. but tbh i've always rejected the common analysis of him as bumbling small bean cinnamon roll uwu blorbo wife guy because i think the character is way too complex to be diluted into that. and i find that interpretation to be dumb, sorry! columbo is a liar! he is not nice! he deceives these rich idiots and does not really think twice before doing it! he will go to great lengths to fuck over these people! he's smart and acts dumb as all hell..... AND he's gay. 🏳️‍🌈🇮🇹 ✌🏻😎
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Judith! (1, 4, 6, 10, 11, 20, 18) aaaaand.... Flynn (2, 4, 8, 9, 21, 22, 28)
Alright! Thanks for asking!
Judith first.
My first impression of them: Ok, so. I honestly don't remember. I played Vesperia for the first time 14 years ago and I do not remember first meeting her. I'm going to guess it was... "Cool!" Although given how early I started shipping Yuri/Judy, it may have been, "Wow... she should kiss Yuri." Although, I suppose the actual first impression of her was probably, "Who's that dude on the dragon? This guy is cool." Followed by, "Oh, she's hot!"
4. How many people I ship them with: I think... 3. No, 4. I multiship like crazy and after so many years in this fandom I've at least enjoyed considering a huge array of ships. But mostly I ship her with Yuri as my number one preference. And then if not that, Estelle is also good. And Judith/Flynn is also very fun, and I've enjoyed thinking about Judith/Rita too. Also one time I wrote a three-sentence fic about Judith/Kaufman and you know? That's kinda fun to think about.
6. My least favorite ship of them: Obviously there is a whole range of very niche ships that are incredibly squick, but probably my least favourite partner of semi-common Judith ships is Raven.
10. Describe the character in one sentence. A quiet women who is actually quite intense and passionate but keeps all that shit tightly bottled up
11. What’s the first thing you think about when thinking about the character? Just a sort of :) vibe. Cool. Chill. Will beat you to death. An unflappable surface layer that you've got to then dig into to get to the juicy stuff.
20. A weird headcanon: She doesn't really "talk" to Ba'ul, it's more a sharing of emotions, ideas, and images without language. And spending so many years only communicating with him in this manner is why she comes off a bit strange talking to other people.
18. How do you think they were as a kid? (Like, were they shy, noisy, wild, etc) I think she was very curious. Her father was an academic, so she probably got some of that craving for knowledge from him. Probably a bit of a loner, off exploring nature and examining bugs and climbing trees.
And now Flynn!
2. When I think I truly started to like them (or dislike them, if you've sent me a character I don't like) As with Judith, I first played this game so long ago that I don't remember exactly. I know I already expected to like him before we even met him just from the way they talked about him. He sounded like my type. The way he enters the story crashing in to save Yuri's ass, then telling him off, bantering a bit and then immediately getting glomped by Estelle probably sold him to me.
4. How many people I ship them with: Since I tend to fall under the multishipping strategy of "my fave + everyone else," uhhh a lot. So in rough order of prominence.... Estelle is my Vesperia OTP. Yuri can be cool too. As mentioned above, Judith is also fun to explore. I tend to like his relationship with Raven as more of a friendship/mentor thing, but a ship can be interesting to think about too. I've thought about how to make it work with Sodia, too, because she needs to do a lot of growth and their relationship would have to evolve and it would be interesting to develop that. Flynn/Alexei is also one of my favourite angst ships. So that's 6 people so far!
8. Your favorite outfit of them. I like the casual hot spring outfit where he's just wearing shorts and a t-shirt. He's so uptight all the time, it's nice to see him relax and dress casually for once.
9. Your least favorite outfit of them. Ok... possibly my most unpopular Flynn opinion but. This one.
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It just. Does not do it for me. The fur? The monocle? Looks like Playboy Bunny fucked Mr. Peanut and I do not care for this at all.
21. When do you think they were at their happiest?
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Flynn has been under a lot of stress for a long time, and once the game ends he will continue to be under a lot of new stress as they have to start dealing with the ramifications of what they've done. But right now? This moment? This is the calm between two storms and he's so at peace, everything is working out. The Adephagos is defeated, his friendship with Yuri is solid once again, Yuri is thriving and Flynn is so happy for him and also proud of him, he's no longer worrying about Estelle or the succession or an imminent war with the guilds, the Knights are in his hands and on the right track.... Tonight, everything is perfect, and he can worry about what comes next in the morning.
22. When do you think they were at their lowest?
The confrontation with Alexei at Yormgen. The last time he saw Yuri, things were at a breaking point between them. There was the disaster with Belius, he's close to losing his best friend, and he's pushing himself to the limit to follow Alexei's orders with the belief it's for the greater good even if it doesn't sit right with him. Then suddenly he pulls up at Yormgen to realize that everything he's done was not only pointless, but also actively harmful. He's been played this whole time, one of his closest friends has been abducted by a man he thought he could trust, Yuri is rightfully furious with him, and what the hell is he supposed to do now?
28. The most unnecessary thing they ever did? Well... I just talked above about how everything he did for Alexei was unnecessary. But you know what else? This.
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What's with the wet suit, Flynn? Unnecessary. Go tits out like everyone else.
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one chance to change your fate - chapter 11
Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: All the sides, character!Thomas, Nico Flores, Dragon Witch (villain), background OCs Rating: Teen & up (see Warnings) Relationships: Loceit, eventual Dukexiety, Royality, background Karrot Kings Warnings: One "haha kinky" joke from Remus; transphobia (the "oh i accept you, but…" kind); mention of eating bugs by mistake; language. Word count: 4870 Notes: a big big thank you to my awesome beta @yougoodfahm!
Read on AO3!
My writing masterpost
start - previous - here - next - masterpost
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reminder that janus’s pronouns are ONLY they/them in this fic (& virgil’s are they/xe)! do not misgender them please!
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Chapter 11
Roman, who had been curled up on the sofa in the sitting room wallowing for some time, looked up at a slight creak of the door. He all but threw down the book he’d been pretending to read when he saw Janus crossing the room towards him.
They held up a single finger as he inhaled to speak—he wasn’t even sure what he was about to say: I’m sorry; are you alright; is Patton alright; I’m sorry; why did you come back; I’m sorry—and he snapped his mouth shut again.
Janus cast a couple of items into Roman’s lap and stood before him, arms crossed and lips pursed.
Roman picked them up. A red rose and an envelope, with his name on it, in Patton’s handwriting.
He glanced up at Janus, hesitant, questioning.
“Open it,” they said, tone cool. 
He scrambled to oblige.
Dear Roman,
Are you doing alright? Jan says you were crying and it made me worried for you. I hope you’re feeling better now. I’m feeling scared worried upset kind of sad and nervous. But I hope think know things will maybe be alright. Jan says they have an idea to fix things, but they won’t tell me what yet. But I trust them, so I’m hoping things will get better soon, even though they aren’t very nice right now. I really do hope you’re doing better when you get this.
Why didn’t you
I wish you had
Was I not
Did you
Anyway, I’m writing this letter to ask if you would please meet me tonight in the rose garden where we usually see each other? I’ll be there at half past midnight. I really hope I can see you. I think we should talk about things.
Love,
I miss you,
See you tonight (I hope),
Patton
P.S. I’m sorry Jan is being grumpy with you. I’m trying to get them to calm down about it all.
P.P.S. I hope you like the flower. It made me think of you.
Roman looked up, eyes brimming with tears, pressing a hand over his mouth to hold back a sob of equal parts fondness and sorrow and longing. Patton had written to him, written in his own words a message just for him, he’d—
“If he’s happy tomorrow morning,” Janus announced, “all is forgiven. If he’s trying to pretend he wasn’t up all night crying, I—” Their voice wavered just barely, but they tensed their shoulders and spoke the rest without hesitation. “I will quit my job and never speak to you again.” 
Roman nodded fast and hard. “Understood.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he added, voice cracking. He was surprised they’d given him a second chance at all, and he had absolutely no intention of wasting it.
Janus twitched one shoulder in a shrug, not quite meeting his eyes. “He said I should apologize,” they added stiffly. “For making you cry.”
Roman was quiet for a beat, not sure how to respond and not wanting to make the awkward tension between them worse. This was possibly the closest he’d ever heard Janus come to an apology, and he suspected it was meant as one—but at the same time, responding with anything directly acknowledging this would likely not go over well. “Lots of things make me cry, Janus,” he said after a moment, forcing a half laugh. “I guess it was only fair you got a turn.”
But Janus only seemed more unhappy at this reply, their mouth tightening in a frown. They crossed their arms harder and stared at the edge of the rug they stood on. “I was cruel.”
Roman winced. “I suppose.” He hesitated. “I… was foolish.” And that was to say the least of it.
Janus grimaced. “I suppose,” they echoed softly after a long pause. They shifted their weight back and forth, chewing their lip and fidgeting with their hands, looking worried and rather lost.
Roman hesitated again, then half-raised his arms in invitation, hoping he was interpreting their fretting correctly.
Relief melted into existence on Janus’s face faster than the sun emerging from a cloud, and they collapsed to sit on the sofa beside him and hug him, thin arms squeezing tight around his ribcage, hands fisting in the jacket on his back, and pointy chin digging into his shoulder.
Roman held them tightly, not bothering to complain about how sharp their chin was because just at this second it was the best feeling in the world. It was alright; it was alright, or at least, now he knew it could be alright again between the two of them, and it would be, and the relief of that knowledge was so intense it practically melted him. “You’re making me cry again,” he said, voice breaking on a noise that was half a sob and half a laugh.
“Shut up,” Janus said thickly into his shoulder. There was a poorly disguised sniffle. “Anyway, I’m still mad at you.” They hugged him a little tighter.
Roman nodded, pressing his cheek against his friend’s hair and rubbing their back. “Understood.”
Roman would happily have sat there and hugged Janus for as long as they would let him, but the noise of a bolt sliding open broke the quiet. Roman startled, looking over at the door to Remus’s suite, which had been taunting him with its blank silence for what felt like hours now.
The door cracked open and Remus poked his head out, wearing a gleeful expression that suggested that whatever was about to come out of his mouth would make Roman regret his entire life. Sure enough: “Very rude of you to call me a brat earlier when you knew I couldn’t say ‘kinky,’” he announced.
Roman groaned and stuck his fingers in his ears. “Oh my stars, shut up shut up I hate you I hate you I hate you I ha—”
Remus snickered and withdrew his head back into his room.
“No wait Remus I’m sorry no no come back wait please—” Roman scrambled over the back of the couch and sprinted across the sitting room, just a second too late, as Remus’s door thudded shut and the bolt slid into place.
“Remus!” he cried, kicking the door petulantly.
He was met with only silence for a long minute. At last from behind the door, Remus’s voice announced, “I’m not done being alone yet. I just wanted to make that joke, now that I can talk again.”
“Are you mad at me?” Roman blurted, desperate.
There was another silence, so long that he thought Remus wasn’t going to answer at all. Then, so quiet that Roman almost thought he’d imagined it—“Not exactly,” Remus said. “Go away.”
“Remus—” Roman pleaded.
“One time when we were five I put a worm in your lunchmeat and you ate it,” Remus interrupted, voice suddenly loud and jarring—which, since it was so horrible and so unrelated, meant that he was really and truly done with conversation and Roman needed to stop pushing now.
“I hate you,” Roman said with no bite. He had long since for his own peace of mind decided not to believe anything of this caliber that Remus said to him.
“Bitch,” Remus retorted, sounding fond. “Gonna ignore you now.”
“Jerk,” Roman retorted back in acknowledgement, and turned away to give Remus his space, drawing in a deep breath. He was not sure if he felt less worried or much more to learn that Remus was “not exactly” mad at him. What did that mean?
Janus was standing near the door out of the twins’ rooms, and, by their single raised eyebrow, had watched the whole exchange. “I’m… not even going to ask what any of that was.” 
Roman snorted. “That’s fair.”
Janus nodded and hesitated a moment more, looking like they wanted to say something. But at last, all they said was, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Roman,” and slipped out the door so quietly it was almost as if they had never been there.
***
Virgil pushed open the door to the fitting room, then stopped in their tracks in dismay. “Mother.”
“Hello, dear!” their mother said brightly, waving them over to herself and her favorite, most kiss-up, seamstress—Madam Solak, who visited her clients by appointment and definitely overcharged Virgil’s mother (not that Virgil blamed her), and was now nodding at Virgil in impersonal, disinterested greeting. The two women were doing… stars only knew what, with far too many bolts of fabric and some mannequins. 
“We’ve been going over patterns for your new clothes while we waited for you!” Virgil’s mother went on, sounding entirely too pleased.
Virgil could practically already feel the headache coming on. “Mother, you know I don’t wear skirts.” Xe crossed xyr arms, half of a mind to leave entirely and not let her fit them for a new wardrobe at all.
But she would find a way to get them to cooperate. She always did. And xe would rather not fight about it, not with all the overly polite posturing that came with fighting with Mother, which would make every time they saw her for the next two weeks an exhausting mind game. So they stayed in the doorway and waited to see what she’d say.
“Virgil, darling, really, now. I’m surprised at you. Aren’t you supposed to be the forward-thinking one of the family?” Mother put her hands on her hips. “Skirts are quite—quite gender-neutral these days, you know.” She almost hid the grimace she said it with. “Particularly in Flores,” she added brightly. “I’m sure the princes will be charmed!” She shot a glance at Madam Solak.
“Oh, yes, milady. I would expect nothing less.” The seamstress smiled politely, all gleaming teeth as she shook out a length of peach taffeta. Like she expected to make something Virgil would wear out of it. Disgusting.
Virgil gritted xyr teeth. “I know anyone can wear skirts.” But skirts were not gender neutral to their parents, no matter how politely they pretended not to stick to customs a century out of date, and as a result Virgil hadn’t been able to bring themself to wear one in years without feeling sickened inside, knowing what it meant to their parents. It infuriated xem, honestly—they’d loved skirts so much as a kid, and now their parents’ stupid attitude had ruined it for xem. “I still don’t want any.”
Mother only raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. “Well, why don’t you come let Madam Solak take your measurements while we discuss it?” she said, crooking one finger in command.
“I’m sure we can find something you’ll be happy with,” Madam Solak agreed, ostensibly speaking to Virgil. Not that Virgil’s opinion actually meant anything here; their mother was the one who was to be pleased.
Virgil huffed and crossed their arms and moved to where their mother had beckoned them to, letting xyr feet fall loudly on the floor to express xyr displeasure but not voicing any of it aloud.
Virgil was in a particularly bad mood today about this whole competition situation—this morning they’d been talking with an acquaintance, an events manager they’d worked with on a few concerts, who’d asked them to meet up at a local cafe. Fae had wanted to personally offer Virgil an invitation to perform in a series of local concerts over the summer. And Virgil, with so much regret xe would certainly have cried if xe’d been a crying person, had had to turn down the invitation. Because they would be in a different kingdom then. Wasting their time doing their best to avoid the competition for some idiot prince’s hand. Because xyr parents were basically determined to ruin xyr life, and destroy the name xe’d started to make for xemself in the local area, and mold xem into the perfect child to brag about by taking away everything interesting in their life. (Not that they knew they were doing that. But still.) It was infuriating and humiliating and Virgil hated it with everything in them. They’d stayed seated in the cafe long after their acquaintance had left, staring into their coffee as it went cold and clenching the cup so tightly they were a little surprised it hadn’t broken.
“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it now?” their mother said sweetly when Virgil stood before her and the seamstress.
“No,” Virgil lied, avoiding her gaze and instead staring at the patches of light on the floor where sunlight was shining through the thin window curtains. They raised their arms to let Madam Solak loop her tape measure around xyr waist. She shot them an apologetic smile that had about as much meaning as the thank-you notes Virgil had written after the last soiree their mother had insisted on them hosting.
“Now, I’m thinking some nice summer dresses—” their mother went on as Madam Solak continued expertly taking Virgil’s measurements.
Virgil gritted their teeth, doing their best to ignore their mother’s chatter and the way Madam Solak nodded along agreeably to all of it. Xe resolved to bring plenty of cash with xem and completely replace whatever wardrobe xyr mother packed xem for this stupid trip.
“—ruffles are so fashionable right now, and—”
Virgil groaned quietly and added “a box of matches” after “cash” on their mental packing list.
This trip was going to be the worst thing that ever happened to them.
***
Roman bid Remus and his parents goodnight early, retreating into his suite as if for the night. But he didn’t go to bed; rather, he remained fully dressed, pacing around his study and occasionally trying to read or journal or sketch or do anything he could think of to distract himself and while away the time.
He swore the clock was moving slower than usual just to spite him.
Just before eleven, it occurred to Roman that the outfit he was wearing was not romantic enough for a clandestine midnight meeting. Frantically sorting through his closet took up a good fifteen minutes, and trying on outfits another thirty. He finally decided on a white silk shirt with an open collar, a fitted red vest, white trousers that hugged his legs, and a delicate gold necklace about his throat. He didn’t attempt to do anything fancy with his hair, instead simply brushing it and sliding a pair of gold bar clips into it, one on either side, to hold the ends out of his face. Finally, he applied a thin stroke of eyeliner to his upper lids and blended out some crimson eyeshadow over it, even though it was nighttime and would no doubt be dark out in the rose garden, with only the moonlight and a few lanterns here and there to see by, so most of the effect of makeup would be lost, but he hardly wanted to present a bare face to Patton—Patton was worth effort. He hesitated over his lipsticks for a moment, then applied a bright red one to match the eyeshadow and blotted it until he was sure it was fully dry and wouldn’t smear or stain. Just in case—in case—well. In case. An in case that had his heartbeat quickening at the very notion, even as he shied away from thinking about it too hard.
He examined himself in the mirror, half twirling in either direction and nervously adjusting his necklace. At last he couldn’t think of anything else to do, and his stomach was squirming with nervous anticipation so hard it felt like a living thing inside him, and the clock said it was eleven-forty-five anyway and that was basically half past midnight, so he steeled himself and unlocked the door to the secret passage out of his rooms. He knew it was supposed to be only for emergencies, but—well—it was probably fine, right? He didn’t want to get caught and explain why he was going outside so late, and he definitely didn’t want the extra guards that nighttime required to accompany him. Besides, Remus had used his emergency escape route for something far less important earlier today, so really Roman felt it was practically entirely justified.
He made his way down to the exit, near the library, and from there it was only a couple of short hallways to another passage that led him out of the palace, and after that it was only a matter of being quiet as he went. Most of the outdoors guards at nighttime were stationed around the perimeter of the palace grounds, not inside the gardens, so it was not difficult to avoid them.
Roman made his way to the center of the rose garden. Gazing about himself, he realized he didn’t know what time it was anymore. It had probably taken him longer to walk here than it would have by a more direct route, but he wasn’t in the habit of using the secret passageways so he couldn’t be sure precisely how much time had elapsed. Patton could be here at any moment. Or Roman could be somehow too late, and perhaps Patton had already come and gone. Or he might not get here for a while still—Roman wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to get onto the palace grounds this late. Or he might have changed his mind and decided Roman wasn’t worth his time. Or—
“Roman?”
Roman whirled. There was Patton, standing at the edge of the little clearing Roman was waiting in, wearing a pale blue shirt with a light gray cardigan and matching gray slacks. His hair was loose about his face and he was hesitating, seeming to have paused almost mid-step.
He was the most perfect, beautiful thing Roman had ever seen.
“Patton!” Roman rushed across the space between them and caught Patton’s hands in his, entirely fixated on Patton’s beautiful dark eyes. “Patton, I—I’m so sorry—I should have told you, I shouldn’t have been such a coward, this is all my fault and I’m sorry and—”
“Hey,” Patton interrupted, sounding flustered, “hey, let’s—let’s slow down about that for a minute, you don’t need to be so mean to yourself about it.” He drew in a breath and gently squeezed Roman’s hands.
Which brought Roman’s attention to the fact that he was holding Patton’s hands in his. He hadn’t even thought about it when he’d taken them—it had been an impulsive gesture—but he discovered that very suddenly it was almost all he could think about. “Oh,” he said, cheeks flushing warm. “Oh, I—” He loosened his grip.
“No,” Patton said quickly, squeezing a little harder. “No, it—it’s good.” He glanced down at their joined hands, then back up at Roman, a small smile making its way onto his face. “It’s nice.”
Roman felt a beam spread unbidden across his face as his heart did a delightful little flip in his chest. “It is, isn’t it?” he asked, shyly squeezing Patton’s hands in return, unable to keep himself from staring at Patton’s full lips as he grinned back.
There was a beat of hesitant silence, both of them waiting to see what the other would do. Roman drew in a breath.
“Can I—”
“Would you—”
They both broke off, giggling softly.
“What were you saying?” Patton asked.
“No, no, you first,” Roman insisted.
Patton nodded. “Would you like to talk about it?”
Roman’s heart was struck by an unbidden jolt of nerves. But he did want to talk about it, wanted to hear everything Patton had to say, and apologize for all the things he’d done wrong, and he certainly owed it to Patton, anyway, regardless of what he himself wanted. He nodded and let Patton draw him over to the marble bench they’d so often sat side-by-side on, their hands still clasped.
“Alrighty,” Patton said, head bent as he stared down at Roman’s hands in his and rubbed his thumb along the side of Roman’s hand. “So.” He sounded hesitant and a little worried.
“I’m sorry,” Roman blurted. He kept going, letting all the words tumble out before he could overthink it. “I’m so sorry, Patton, this is all my fault, I—I should have told you. I really should have. I was—I was scared, and I told myself it was because I was afraid I would be pressuring you to make a choice you didn’t actually want to just because you felt sorry for me, but—Janus says I’m just afraid of letting myself be happy, and I—I think they’re right, and I let myself hurt you because I was scared, and it was so selfish of me, and I should never have done that. I’m—” His voice cracked and he sucked in a breath, doing his best to steady himself. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I should have told you. I was wrong.”
Patton was quiet for a moment, still staring down at Roman’s hands. Roman’s heart thumped loud in his chest, in dreadful suspense as he waited, biting the inside of his cheek to force himself to stay quiet and not fill up the silence with nervous cheery words.
“It—did hurt my feelings,” Patton said at last, very quietly, “that you kept me from knowing—all the things. About the contest. I’m—I’m more upset about it than I let on to Jan, they were overreacting enough as it was.” He drew in a long breath and let it out. “And it—it doesn’t make it all the way better to know why you did it.”
Roman pressed his lips together and tried not to cry.
“But—” Patton went on, and Roman dared to hope with a bubble of anticipation in his chest so large that it hurt, “it does help. And I—I appreciate you wanting to protect me and respect me, and I appreciate you being honest about it all with me now. And I understand that none of your options were perfect.” He looked up and met Roman’s eyes at long last, his own eyes big and dark and beautiful behind his glasses, his face solemn and intent and softly sad and Roman wanted to kiss it better so badly—but he forced himself to refocus and keep listening.
“It’s not better,” Patton said carefully, “but I accept your apology, Roman. I forgive you. And I’d like to try and fix it together.”
“Of course,” Roman agreed at once, giddy relief rushing through him, “anything you want, I just—” He hesitated. “Shouldn’t it be my responsibility to fix?”
“Maybe,” Patton said, examining him up and down. A tiny smile quirked onto his face. “But I like you. So I want to help.”
He was perfect, he was perfect, and so good and so lovely and so handsome and so sweet and so funny and Roman wanted to kiss all the breath out of his lungs and then come back for more, but he settled instead for a choked, delighted little, “Alright,” because he was pretty sure there was nothing in the world he wouldn’t give Patton if he asked for it.  
Patton broke into a full smile. “Good. I’m glad. That’s settled, then.” He began rubbing his thumb along Roman’s hand again. “It is a little bit of a relief,” he added after a moment, quieter again.
“What is?” Roman asked, trying not to be entirely distracted by how nice the sensation of Patton’s calloused thumb against his skin was.
“Knowing all the parts of why you didn’t tell me.”
“Why?” Roman asked, not understanding what he was getting at.
Patton bit his lip and looked away. “You have very soft hands,” he said after a moment, a clear and sharp change of subject.
“You have very gentle ones,” Roman returned easily. “Patton, why is it a relief?” he pressed, something anxious tightening around his heart.
Patton shifted uncomfortably. “Well—I was—at first—I mean, before Jan explained it all—I was afraid it was—was an easy way to get rid of me. That you didn’t want me after all.” He stared at one of the rose bushes, not meeting Roman’s eyes, his shoulders tense and nervous.
It was a question, Roman realized, and a confession as well. Speaking aloud what neither of them had yet quite actually said. Even so, the answer was so obvious, so all-encompassing and so permeated throughout every part of Roman’s worldview, that it felt bizarre to see Patton so shy about it.
“Of course I want you, Patton,” he responded, eager and easy as breathing. He rose up on his knees on the bench, shifting closer to Patton.
Patton met his eyes again, looking up at him now from the change in angle. “Oh?”
Roman nodded fervently, clutching both Patton’s hands tighter and lifting them to hold against his heart. “Of course I do,” he repeated, choking up slightly with emotion. “With everything in me. I—Patton, I’ve been in love with you since the first time you gave me flowers.” He still remembered it with perfect clarity, even with how it had become almost a routine every time they saw each other since then; it had been a month or two after they’d met, and the sunshine had been gleaming off Patton’s hair, and he had been giggling at a pun Roman made in response to his own, and he’d clipped a rose right off the bush and tucked it into Roman’s hair and said the flower was almost as pretty as Roman was, and Roman’s heart had tumbled head-over-heels right into Patton’s hands and never left.
“Oh,” Patton breathed again, eyes wide and lips parting, gaze fixed on Roman’s face and hands clinging tightly to Roman’s. “Oh, you—you have? That’s—” He swallowed. “Oh,” he repeated, awed and emotional.
Roman nodded hard. “Of course I have, darling,” he assured him. “You’re you.”
Patton drew in a shaky breath, a smile just hovering at the corners of his mouth. “I could say the same about you.”  
Roman was struck by an impulse, and he let go of Patton’s hands for just a moment, half regretting it as he did just for the loss of his touch. He leaned away, reaching towards the nearest bush.
“What are you—?” Patton began.
“For you,” Roman said in explanation, plucking a white rose off the bush. He settled back on his knees before Patton, leaned in, and carefully tucked it into his dark hair. “It makes me think of you,” he added, half teasing in using the same phrasing Patton had, but also oh so serious. His hand lingered on Patton’s hair, finding a loose strand and smoothing it into place.
“You are a sweetheart,” Patton said, with a look in his eyes so adoring it made Roman’s heart ache with delight. He hesitated. “Roman?”
“Hm?” Roman replied in an unabashedly besotted tone, still playing with Patton’s hair.
“What were you going to say? Earlier. When we both spoke at once.”
“Oh.” Roman’s breath caught at the idea of how forward he had nearly been. “Well, I—I was—” He swallowed. “I was going to ask if I could kiss you,” he admitted, cheeks warm.
Patton was quiet for a beat, and Roman’s heart practically thumped out of his chest. Then he reached up and caught Roman’s hands in his once more, lifting them down from his hair, and looked up to meet Roman’s eyes.
“Well, what took you so long?” he asked. “Go ahead.”
Roman gasped, which made Patton’s eyes crinkle with a fond little smile, and Roman was not sure how this much love could fit in one person. Heart in his mouth—he had wanted this for so long, how was this real, how had he gotten so lucky?—he leaned down, slow and careful, not wanting to miss a second of it. Patton tilted his face up to meet him, their hands still clasped between them.
Roman took a breath and closed the remainder of the gap and pressed his lips to Patton’s.
It was only a quick little peck at first, neither of them daring to do more, but Roman barely pulled away at all, pressing his forehead and nose to Patton’s and gazing into his eyes.
Patton giggled, and it broke the tense anticipation like a charm.
And then both of them were laughing, shy and delighted, their faces so close together still, and after that it was the easiest thing in the world to lean in once more and kiss Patton, much longer and more surely this time, relishing in the way Patton sighed against his lips, and the way his mouth was so soft and warm and sweet, and the subtle scent of soap and plants that he always carried. Roman kissed him again, and again and again, barely stopping for breaths, and at some point Patton’s arms made their way around Roman’s neck and Roman’s hands cradled Patton’s face and then tangled in his hair, and they both slid closer to each other on the bench till they were pressed together, kissing and kissing and making up for all the months they had waited.
Roman was not sure if he had ever been so happy as he was now, but he was kissing the boy he loved and holding him in his arms and that was the most perfect thing in the world, so really nothing else mattered.
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Taglist (ask to be added/removed!): @the-sympathetic-villain @just-a-little-anxious @theimprobabledreamersworld @crazydemigod666 @nightweirdo @emoprincey (also hi @thecrowslullaby ur not actually on the taglist unless u want to be, but ik you’ve been waiting for the next update, so. just letting u know this is here now lol)
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villainship · 1 year
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[Writing WIP Questionnaire]
Reflecting on my drafts folder w/ the previously-skipped section of the questions I was answering here.
If you read this: . . .don’t look @ me. LOL. (Exposing my secrets -- and also hiding from them.)
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Sum up one or more of your wips!
Most aren’t for tumblr-posting, mind u. But:
(Divided up by which character has narration rights)
-a Vette story I keep forgetting abt, where she is trying to figure out TD’s post-binge fate on Nar Shaddaa, having decided she’s actually invested in this weird Sith’s wellbeing.
-Quinn experiencing TD’s response to betrayal (TD: “I’m not mad, I just want you to acknowledge your life is in /my/ hands. Forever.”)
-like 4 separate WIPs of ‘joint midlife crisis’ Zahied & TD engaging in their unsanctioned fraternizing in early times/getting to know each other -- however eagerly (TD) or reluctantly (Zahied). -Alliance-era, mid-50s Zahied thinks hard abt where he is, tells TD he ready to dump him (probably. Soon. --For real, though. NO relapses. When it’s done it’s /done/, 100%. Swearing off this shit- . . . Yes, he’ll still teach ur damn kids their hand-to-hand fighting.)
-Alliance-era TD, fraught with relationship issues/feelings(???) beyond his comprehension (dumped by his boyfriend; wife still touchy that he is hot for his boss; boss ignoring him b/c 1. she has never considered him significant or attractive 2. she’s busy with the happiness of being reunited with her bug husband), takes a team (incl. his Apprentice) to Hoth for a mission, where they lose contact with home base & can’t send an update to confirm they’re still alive. --He thinks that’s fine he didn’t want to hear from anyone there for a While anyway-- (but something else Will go wrong.) -Agent Vensys is assigned as chaperone for traitor-on-probation Sith Lord Liio (going Where? idk) -- which may be AU content, or I might make it canon. . . or I might split off into 2 different versions (one where they potentially makeout a little, & one for sailing the crack ship onward to far-distant horizons that veer OOC for at least 1 of them). Lolll. -(?canon?) Kallir has a nice day. -Kallir runs afoul of a posse of Imperial troops privately harboring anti-Sith sentiments in a garrison on Taris (? question mark). (Visiting pumpkin Agent was witnessed holding hands with a Sith who recently came by) -- I’m evaluating how much violence I’ll include as canon. (Less than I wrote. . . but some. He definitely gets bullied. Punches someone in the throat. Maybe knifes a guy a little bit?? I wrote that scene, but I’m not sure it’ll fit.) -Kallir undergoing an entire ordeal living among space pirates & becoming slightly unhinged. -in AU: Kallir (the Minister of Intelligence), dragged away from the tail end of a formal ball, puts up with Vensys plying his charms at him (again)
-total shipping AU: Kallir, Liio, & Zahied, lonely hearts club, attempt to distract one another from mountains of baggage in the only way that comes to their minds when they recognize everyone else is hot and thirsty. (Fellas. . . you’re a mess. Sorry I’m so into that.)
Which story took the most research?
Well- the extent of research I’m willing to do is stuff like “what’s this place/object look like in SWTOR?”, or “what does the internet say about these star wars aliens?”
Which story has the most lore?
TD going to Hoth to blow up a Star Fortress maybe (regrettably, I don’t know the relevant lore & I’ve been incapable of doing the gameplay I want to do to get there).
Current word count of all your main wips?
I do Not track those stats. . . I think I know which are the longest, though.
-Part 1 of Liio/Kallir/Zahied AU is. . . 54 pages (for. . .3-4 scenes, essentially. dkfshgkjf). -Part 2 combined WIPs are 15 + 6 + 3 + .2 (a paragraph) (split up due to time-jumping mid-draft, starting a new file, & returning to unfinished business when I feel like it)
Fic that isn’t a total departure from character canon: -Part 1 (of the in-depth edition) of Kallir’s pirate story is a 32 page WIP, w/ an 18-page side chapter (which might not get any longer) -Part 2: 6 pages so far.  -Aftermath follow-up: 7 so far.
How many projects do you have going on right now? Are there any that you doubt you’ll ever finish?
(My answer to question 1 is more-or-less my entire list) It’s hard to say I Won’t finish anything, but also--I don’t often finish writings.
What was you first major project? How far along is it?
And I wouldn’t necessarily call any of them ‘major’ projects (pirate fic got pretty big--but. idk). . .
My first SWTOR fic was for TD & Quinn, and I got lost on it. lol. It’s one of those drafts that feels convoluted to look at (there’s a lot of patchwork pieces), & I’m not sure exactly how much of it is worth having in there or what I actually Want to write into it. (Quinn is hilarious to write, though.)
What are some tropes and character dynamics found in your wips?
. . . gay little scene-slice stories of charged & intimate interactions--aggressive or/and soothing. Just people having their emotional problems in various Situations (sometimes amid danger/stress. . . sometimes when they are trying to enjoy themselves. . . Sometimes those mix).
So. . . tame (generally tame.) psychological whump (mainly psychological.) I Guess. H/C-aligned.
Describe the setting of one or more of your wips
All my stories are in settings of Convenience, and usually defined more by who is there than details of the place itself. (eg. I’m picturing “Kallir gets bullied for having a Sith bf” somewhere on Taris b/c it seems like the kind of place where the military doesn’t get a lot of oversight). Nothing too exciting (or original).
What are some things that inspired your stories? Real events? Maybe a dream?
Game events sometimes, of course. ehehh.
I also have. . . not uncommonly come up w/ concepts for scenarios based on outfits. (Pirate fic arose b/c I previewed the Belsavis zap collar on Kallir. Vensys’ formal outfit was the starting point for that AU fic with the formal event)
What story are you the proudest of? Why?
I dunnoooo-- I have. . . a weird relationship w/ my writings. I don’t have consistent feelings about them (whether I think anything is so good or absolutely Unbearably terrible/cringe changes based on my own moods), and. . . A lot of the time I’m ashamed even making some/most of them for various reasons.
. . .BUT. I was (and still am) pretty proud of how I wrote our charas in the pumpkin-meets-Severine mini-story from a While back (which I just re-blogged cuz of the improvement edits last night). hehe. On fire w/ that one, writing a couple of my favorite personalities--successfully (I’d say) channeling a character that’s not even mine. 
And I don’t feel like I wasted my time if it’s a gift 4 a friend & I’ve been able to make their day with it. <3 We luv our charas. hell yeaaaaaaa
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pugszler · 1 year
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re fanfic ask game: ✏️, 📬, 🎡, 🪜
thank you blake!!! <3
✏️ The first fanfiction you ever wrote? (doesn’t have to be a posted fic)
hmm well technically i did start out in middle school writing crack/humor fic for kingdom hearts (albeit they were in the form of screenplays). i had a huge ass fucking binder of them and there were A LOT, all hand written on wide ruled paper. i never technically uploaded them online (sometimes i shared mini ones in comment sections on a fan site i used to troll on... 😬) but i did have an audience at school! i had two friends (who i prob bugged relentlessly) to read my stupid stories but i honestly think they liked them and were always super nice to me about them and gave me praise. one of my friends even drew fanart for some of them :')
📬 The best comment you ever recieved?
aaaah omg i can't remember specific ones off the top of my head but i Know that the best comments i've ever received on my fics were from both @icannotweave and @artiemisiaa!
raye, you've left enormous essay-length comments on multiple fics of mine and you rlly made it clear to me that you loved what you read and each part that you liked the most and just. gosh i'll always remember just how much interest you showed in my dumb self-insert fic w kohei despite never having interacted w the canon material. your comments were basically love letters to my writing and i'll never forget your kindness and enthusiasm :'))) <3
artie, i know it's been a long while since i last updated domino effect, long enough that Both of us have kind of lost most of our interest in bnha, but i just want to say that your chapter-to-chapter comments Really helped me keep writing through the bulk of that fic! it was SO NICE to know that someone was enthusiastically following along w each update i uploaded and that you were having fun while reading! you also praised my ideas and characterizations a lot and that was... incredibly validating for me :') i worried A Lot during my time writing domino bc i was afraid of how well i was writing my favorite characters, but you assured me multiple times that i was doing them justice. you're my favorite type of commenter, thank you again <3
🎡 Your favorite scene to write in -insert fic-?
aw blake, buddy, dude, my pal... "-insert fic-" means you gotta specify one of the fics i've written before lmao ah well don't worry i'll pick one for ya :P hmm i think my favorite scenes to write in Any fic are funny ones (i like to pretend that i Am actually a comedy genius sometimes lmao). i remember one of the scenes i loved writing the most was from "gradual shift" (aka the fic where shouto gets turned into a cat) and izuku attempts to hide cat shouto in his hoodie while he sneaks him into the dorms but then he runs into shinsou at the elevators who is absolutely delighted to meet a new feline friend and izuku is just freaking tf out and shouto is just like "mrow" (mrow meaning hi)
🪜 Tell us a random fact about any fic!
by some miracle (i.e. prior to 2015 when my mental illnesses started to wreak havoc) prob half of the fics i wrote at first were basically All written within the course of a 24 hour period. several of them had actual deadlines (like for events and exchanges) so that really got me into that last minute panic kind of productiveness (which makes sense since i was attending college just around/before this time period so i was Very familiar with this method of getting important projects done lmao). i pulled full all-nighters for Many of them and honestly... it was a blast. prob one of the best experiences in my life lmao. writing entire ass fics over the course of a single evening until the sun rises is a wild experience. felt really fucking good once you finish.
(link to ask game)
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yet another writing ask game
This is in response to @caffelattedellequattro 's writing ask, and once more i'm not bothering to wait for socialization and answering them myself!
I've done this before, actually, twice- kept the original work but redid them to better suit my skill style. One was one of my first works on the Archive, so I kept it for the feeling, and the other was a gift for a friend, so that had to stay as well. If the muse comes back, I might go back and edit/expand on my series of guides, but that entirely depends on me being in the right mood and having the time.
What I 'can't write but want to' entirely depends on my muse and motivation. I can cling to a project all I want, but I'll only get so much that flows before having to lose it because I lost motivation- usually, but not always, coinciding with a switch in what fandom I'm interested in reading right then.
I write very narratively- it's a weird thing, but I write like I'm telling the tale out loud, and there's a lot of introspection, then dialogue, and I'm prone to skipping over anything I don't want to tell and just mentioning that it happened. This happens a lot with action scenes.
My OC is technically a self-insert and I'd never actually write anything with her, but at the same time it's nice to get a handle on characters by running mini-scenes in my head where her interaction helps flesh them out.
9. Cliffhangers can be nice if used properly, and I'll admit I've used them regularly, but at the same time if you're not adding more in a timely fashion they can be annoying.
13. My worldbuilding skills I'd call a 7- it's nowhere near Tolkien, but I like to understand the world and how people interact within it before I start. Some stuff is contrived but honestly, even if it's contrived, I don't care, I did it for a reason and it makes everything else flow better.
16. One-shots are absolutely underrated! They can be wonderful- whether to break up tension or just to explore something that doesn't necessarily need to be a whole big thing. I'm not amazing about posting, but enough of my works are one-shots that I'm definitely for them.
17/18. Third person past. I can't do first, I'm never in my stories, and second person is really only good if you're doing a lot of character stuff- and it's a little weird because I already pick up enough stuff from what I read that the bleedthrough gets worse. And past tense just fits best with my whole 'storytelling' shtick.
20. Generally I'm only writing one thing at once, but I'll leave one thing undone to go work on something else for a while. I have enough WIPs to always be able to procrastinate on one by writing another, and there's no update schedule to 'make' me write.
23. Description. With dialogue, I either have such a clear picture of what's going on that it feels clunky, or I have no idea what they're doing and it feels too back-and-forthy. Plus I do too many three-or-more-person conversations for somebody who doesn't tag her dialogue that well.
24. Not in the main body of work. At the beginning or end of a chapter or work, perhaps, but unless it's incredibly plot-relevant it feels confusing. Flashbacks can be done well, but it's difficult. Flash-forwards are really only good for timeskips and to wrap up things.
25. I prefer to at least have a significant chunk written before I post or all of it done, as sometimes I edit big chunks, and if I stop because I ran out of inspiration, I'd rather not leave my readers hanging.
35. Writing challenges can be fun, but with my motivation, they're not for me. I recently started writing with the pageless function becuase the page lines were bugging me and it's actually nice- I can still get an idea of how long I've been writing, I somehow ended up with over 50 pages of fic on what I thought was a pretty short thing, but I'm not noticing the page breaks.
37. I research as I write or a little beforehand- sometimes just a quick Google to find a word I forgot, sometimes looking to see a community's experience, sometimes just poking around for a detail I'll use later.
38. 'This never happened' in terms of character actions or 'this happened but' in terms of scenarios. I'll adjust actions or motivations by changing backstory, but I like to keep canon event chains mostly happening unless it's stupid with what happened. My reasoning is I'm only changing some people, and they chose what they did in canon for a reason. People react differently, though, especially when warned or when they have time to grow, and that's fascinating to explore.
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platonic-prompts · 3 years
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Whump Prompt #6
A’s friends have been ignoring them lately, and A has no idea what they did wrong. A sinks deeper and deeper over the course of a week, and when they walk into their house and find a surprise party, well, A handles it as well as they possibly could. By freaking out, but not in a good way.
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things they do when they love you
Characters: Kageyama Tobio, Tsukishima Kei, Tanaka Ryūnosuke, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Kozume Kenma, Tendō Satori, & Ushijima Wakatoshi, all with a Fem!Reader
Warnings: literally nothing - pure fluff <3
A/N: sorry for the lack of content lately! I’ve been super busy with work and school and I feel myself starting to get selfconscious of my work again so I’m hoping I can break through the writers block it comes with! Hope you enjoy! Also thank you to @thisnoodlewritesao3​ and @satan-ruler-of-hells​ for listening to me talk about this fic probably a million times lol
haikyuu masterlist
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Kageyama is awkward with telling you how he feels so he just tries to give you things to show you. like you mentioned once you liked the protein bar that Coach gave you guys and now he bought every single one of them from the store and is bringing it to your house. Oh did you say you liked milk too? Well I guess he’ll just have to bring you the whole fucking vending machine. Just wants to show he will provide you with all the things you love, pls love him back. I feel like he’d also be bugging his older sister all the time - asking her all sorts of questions about girls. She’s the reason your first date wasn’t at a volleyball game (and also the reason why he no longer thinks your first date was the first time you attended his games. “Tobio, a date is supposed to be where the two of you are hanging out together.” “But.... we are together. She’s watching me play.” “.... somewhere where your whole team and the whole of the Miyagi prefecture isn’t!”)
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Tsukishima will let you pamper him lol. He likes the attention so when you’re doing face masks, he’ll like look through them and ask you questions about them. Sometimes it comes off as he’s judging you for spending money on this stuff but he’s really just waiting for you to ask if he wants to try one. You bought a dino face mask specifically for him but you thought he’d laugh at you if you asked. So you just kept it with the rest of your sheet masks. You’re putting one on one day and he’s like …. is that a dinosaur. And you’re like…. no? And immediately he’s like well now I have to have it please show me how to put this one. Lol cut to: it does nOT look like a dinosaur (have yall seen those ones that’s supposed to like look like a penguin or lion or something and just looks psychotic??? yeah that). He still likes it and even lets you take a picture of his first face mask cause you just look so happy that you’re doing it with him. It becomes a ritual and any time you’re doing face masks, he’ll do it with you and you just spill all the tea to him about shit you’ve heard at work or school and he just listens and aggressively calls everyone stupid  lol
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Tanaka aggressively praises you non stop but like in a good way haha. Did you just post a photo on instagram? He’s liked it first, commented a thousand different things about how he loves your outfit and your expression and how you’re the light of his life, and then he sHARES the photo to his story and is like look at how pretty my girlfriend is yall wish this was you. Oh did you just get a good grade at school??? Non stop bragging to his teammates about how he’s dating a genius (“I mean anyone’s a genius compared to you” “Tsukishima that is NO WAY TO TALK TO YOUR UPPERCLASSMAN YOU ASSHOLE”). If you’re feeling upset about something, he’ll comfort you and all but also tell you that you’re such a badass you could handle anything. And it’s not like empty compliments either - he genuinely believes that you are the most amazing human being to ever walk the planet
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Yamaguchi (okay I got this idea partially from @/paige.ipairs on tiktok but it’s so cute that i had to put it here) likes doing anything with you so he likes it when you’re out shopping and you help him pick a new outfit or you style something for him. But his favourite thing is when you’re painting your nails and he’s like … that’s a nice colour… and you’re like Yamaguchi would you like… your nails painted? And at first it’s just the one finger and it’s a matching colour with you. Like on his ring finger to symbolize he’s with you but then soon he’s with you at the mall looking at different colours and picks out one’s he would like for you to paint for him and he just carries them over to you like .. o.o pls
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Kenma will actively look for 2 player games that he can play with you. He’ll pretend like it’s nothing and that he just wants to try the game for the 1 player story but he’ll leave a controller out and just kind waits for you to ask to play or pick up the controller. He really likes it when you play, even if you wander around a lot and aren’t super focused on the story line. Minecraft with the two of you is always fun. He thinks it’s really funny how aggressive you get trying to save your animals from the zombies even though they won’t get hurt. You teared up once cause the pen you made for your chickens got blown up by a Creeper and he actually felt so bad even though you told him it was definitely not his fault. Cut to: you screaming aggressively when it comes to any Creeper as revenge for the chickens who were lost in the battle.
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Tendō starts reading your favourite mangas and watches all of your favourite series/movies before you two really started dating because he wanted to know what to talk to you about. But now that you guys are together, he’ll plan dates where you can binge-watch all of your favourite movies/shows or just lie around and trade mangas (you had this man actually crying at some of them, he wasn’t ready for the hURT). If you’re not the biggest fan of horror films, he’ll insist that you guys don’t need to watch them but he loves when you stick it out with him cause it means extra cuddles and more snacks as comfort! If you do love horror films, he’ll always buy tickets to the new movies so the two of you can watch it together right away.
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Ushijima will hold you no matter where you guys are. Big beefy boy doesn’t really understand why he wouldn’t hold you, even if you guys were in public. When you guys first started dating, you’d avoid reaching out for his hand because you figured big stoic guy like Ushijima, he wouldn’t really be a PDA kind of guy would he? Wrong. Well right, but also wrong. Boy probably doesn’t even realize what PDA is but he’ll reach for your hand and hold it anytime. And if you guys are waiting in line somewhere, he’ll just hold you in his arms in front of him. He has no sense of when not to do this. It’s like you’re his comfort person (which you are). In front of his Coach? Suddenly has you in front of him, hugging you to him. Being interviewed by some reporters? Oh look, you’re here too. Reminding Oikawa that he should’ve come to Shiratorizawa? You’re right in front sticking your tongue out at the Aoba Josai boi like the child you are lol. Honestly, he doesn’t think it’s weird but he knows deep down that he’s just really scared you’ll leave. He likes knowing you’re around because it reminds him you’re always there. 
Haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to join!)
@al0ehas​ @aurumk​ @devilkittymusic​ @thisnoodlewritesao3​ @satan-ruler-of-hells​ @trashy-simp​ @jeppiet​ @lucyheartfilias-wife​ @darkvadeeer​ @haikyuutothetop​ @livy384​ @babyshoyo​
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duuhrayliegh · 3 years
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my hero - request
request: anon: hi could you write a sebastian x female reader fic where she suffers from anxiety and feels bad because of it but he comforts her and tells her there’s nothing wrong with her and how strong she is even though she has this disorder
pairing: sebastian stan x female!reader
warnings: self-esteem issues, anxiety, toxicity in the fandom, language?
a/n: hey nona! you weren’t super specific on what type of anxiety that you wanted to reader to have, so if this isn’t what you had in mind, lmk and i’ll write you another fic! other than that i hope you like it!
p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!
xoxo ray
check out my m.list
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You and Seb met at a coffee shop in New York. It was totally cliche and seemed straight out of a storybook. You had somehow managed to spill coffee on that specimen of a man, and he was kind enough to let you pay for his dry cleaning. Your relationship didn’t grow until you ran into him again while you were at a bar with your friends. If he had any say in telling the story of how you met, he spotted you from across the smoky bar and he knew then and there that he had to get to know you. Truthfully, you liked his version, but the real one was just indescribable. It seemed, to you at least, that you were destined to be with this man. Seeing him twice in one week? Come on, that’s possible if you were in the small town you grew up in, but not New York.
You obviously had recognized him as an actor, but really you didn’t care. That’s what drew Sebastian to you in the first place. You treated him as if he was any other guy on the street, he was able to be a normal person around you. Now, two years later, you lounge on the couch of your apartment in LA that you shared with the man you love. He’s still auditioning for any role that catches his eye and you’re supporting him no matter what.
His fans for the most part adored you and your relationship with Sebastian. The fans who didn’t like you were your only issue with this whole affair, but they had nothing to do with Sebastian other than flood his socials with nasty messages about you. You weren’t perfect, that you knew all too well, and you tried to let the comments roll off your shoulders. Most of the time you were successful in your efforts, but other times they clung to your skin like an unwanted disease.
Sebastian was currently promoting his new project Endings, Beginnings. You were so unbelievably proud of Seb, he was doing something that made him happy. In this particular film, he was acting alongside Shailene Woodley, who was just amazing. Seb always came home gushing about the new inside jokes that they had come up with. One of your favorite things that Seb did with you was run lines. You liked having the inside scoop on his new works, but this one was harder for you. It had quite a few sex scenes between Seb’s character Frank and Shailene’s Daphne.
Not that it bothered you. Nope. Didn’t bother you. At all.
...mmm, okay maybe it bugged you a little. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Sebastian, it was… well you couldn’t really describe what it was. Whatever the case may be, it was putting you deeper and deeper into a funk, one that you were having a hard time coming out of. And Seb’s fans who weren’t in your corner, weren’t really helping you any.
A few nights ago, Seb surprised you with a casual night out in LA. He texted you before he got home and told you that he was going to be taking you out. Did he give you a dress code for the evening? No, he did not (wonderful, thanks so much Seb). You decided to dress in a half business casual, half rail me when we get home outfit. You ended up wearing an adorable bustier top that was embroidered with pretty blue and pink flowers, a pair of destroyed jeans covered your legs. You finished it off with a pair of nude heels, when you looked in the mirror, you thought you looked hot as fuck. It was around seven when Seb picked you up, mouth hanging open, in awe of your outfit.
“Oh my god. You look so beautiful, Y/N.” He opened the passenger door of his car after he hugged you, giving you a small peck on the lips. Sebastian drove you to a restaurant a block off of Thai Town called Home Restaurant.
“Babe, this place is so cute!” You squeezed Sebastian’s upper arm, jumping up and down beside him. “How’d you find this place?” Sebastian shook his head, smiling at you.
“I asked Shai, actually.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, and your heart sank a little. Why did it do that? “She said that the paps hardly ever come around here.” He leaned down pressing a kiss to your temple. “I thought that draga mea deserved a quiet night out on the town.” His voice rasped as he spoke in his native tongue, making a shiver race down your spine.
“Well, tell her I said thank you.” You offered him a small smile. He wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing circles on the exposed skin above your jeans. He spoke with the hostess as your mind drifted away. You were pulled out of your thoughts when he guided you to your table. Sebastian sat across from you, staring deeply into your eyes. You brought your hand up to rest your chin on it, staring back at him. “How’s everything been going?” You were genuinely interested in the answer and it made your heart warm watching his face light up.
“It’s been going really well. Everyone we worked with was real nice, it made all the scenes more comfortable.” Seb’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the scenes and you knew which ones he was referring to.
“Oh, right.” You tried not to let your emotions show.
“Yeah, we’re about to start teasing some of them to promote the show.” Seb sighed at the thought of having to use social media, you shook your head at him.
“I’ll help you with it, you dork.” You laughed to hide your discomfort. “Which scene did they approve for the posts?” Sebastian began to speak when he was interrupted by your waitress. After the two of you ordered your food, the waitress returned with your drinks. Sebastian took a large gulp of his before answering your previous question.
“They want me to post the trailer and then the scene between Frank and Daphne at the bar.” You tried to think back to the script, remembering the context. Frank and Daphne were meeting after Daphne had gone out on a date with Jack. Daphne was claiming that she didn’t want to be a wedge in their friendship, then proceeded to make out with Frank. If you were recalling correctly, Frank and Daphne’s first sex scene followed soon after.
“Okay, we can do that. Do you have any behind the scene pictures you wanna post too?” Seb got out his phone, scrolling through his camera roll to see. He had several different photos of him with Jamie and then him with Shailene. He showed you his phone on a picture of Shailene leaned against him on a couch, her arm over his waist. A red filter colored the photo, you had to hand it to him, it was a good one to use. “We can post it whenever we get home, love.” Sebastian locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket, to focus solely on you.
“How has your day been, draga mea?” You bit your lip as you thought about what you’ve been doing. You’ve been working towards your Master’s, so your days have been filled with preparing for your dissertation. On top of that, you’ve become a bit of an influencer on different social media platforms. Really, you believe your popularity came from your relationship with Sebastian. You’ve been giving his fans the content that they’ve always wanted. Not only that, but you’re active with them.
“My day was good today. I had to edit a few papers from my other classmates but other than that I didn’t do much. I did make a few TikTok videos, but really today was a bit of a lounge day for me.” Seb smiled at you, proud of how hard you’ve been working.
“I should be getting a few days off soon, so we can relax together in the apartment, if you aren’t too busy with your classes.” He stretched his arm across the table, palm up waiting for your hand. Seb pulled your hand up to his mouth, placing a sloppy kiss onto the back of it. His eyes settled on you lovingly. To Sebastian, you were the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.
The two of you managed to finish your meal in peace. No fans came up to Sebastian asking for photos, no paparazzi swarms when you left, just a quiet meal for a normal couple in love. After you got home and you were snuggled in your pajamas alongside Sebastian in your comfortable bed, he handed you his phone to read over his post for his Instagram. The paragraph was sappy, about his time working with Drake, the director, and working with the rest of the cast. Seb always was a softy, never was able to hide it, especially in promo posts.
“It looks good to me. Are you going to post it now? Or wait until tomorrow morning?” Seb debated, he probably should wait and do it tomorrow, but he was most likely going to forget to do it. He clicked post, putting his phone on charge and snuggling into you.
“Thank you for always being there for me, Y/N.” He kissed your jawline, nuzzling his face into your neck. “It really means a lot to me, baby. I love you so much.” He wrapped both hands around your waist, pulling you to his front. You smiled wide, momentarily forgetting all of your troubles.
“I love you too, Seb.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s get some sleep, love.” Little did you know that a single post could ruin all of the progress that you thought you had made.
*********************
You woke the next morning, alone in bed. You could hear pots clanging in the kitchen of your home, bringing a smile to your face. Before you left the safety of your bed, you checked your socials out of habit. You opened Instagram first, seeing an absurd amount of notifications this early in the morning. Your smile dropped as soon as you opened the first post. Comments on Sebastian’s post about Endings, Beginnings and his chemistry with Shailene weren’t entirely out of the ordinary. They were to be expected, they were playing parts in a love triangle. People were ‘shipping’ Shailene with Seb and Jamie, so that wasn’t too crazy.
What hurt you were the comments saying, “living for shailene and sebastian! she’s a much better match for him than y/n.”
“never thought that y/n girl was going to last, glad he’s going w shailene”
“shailene and seb supremacy”
“yes! i’ve always supported seb in everything he’s done, but i rlly questioned him when he got w that y/n girl. what was he thinking?!”
Tears gathered in your eyes as you continued scrolling. You never thought you and Sebastian never fit. You knew that people had issues with your relationship, but you never let it get in your head this bad. You checked your explore page, pictures of you and Sebastian from last night were riddling the page.
Your heart dropped.
There were pictures of the two of you from last night with parts of your body circled. The exposed skin above your waistband, the excess skin on your neck and arms. You don’t know where they got these pictures, but your stomach was steadily sinking with each picture you saw. The door of your room opened, revealing a smiley Sebastian with a plate full of eggs in one hand and a cup of orange juice in the other.
“Good morning, baby.” You quickly shoved your phone away from you, wiping your tears away from your eyes to meet his. His brows furrowed immediately. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You snuffled quietly, before answering.
“Uh, nothing. I’m just so proud of you.” You smiled at him, not wanting to bring down his already happy mood with your problems. Was that entirely healthy? Probably not, but you were doing it anyway, consequences be damned.
“Oh, well you don’t have to cry for me, Y/N. Even if you’re proud.” He walked up to your side of the bed, placing the cup and plate on your nightstand. He brought his hand up to your cheeks, wiping away your tear streaks. “You know that I only like to see tears whenever it’s me causing you so much pleasure you beg me to stop.” He winked at you, smirking at your rising blush. To say that didn’t lift your spirits for about half a second would be a lie. Sebastian brought the plate to your lap, waiting for you to start eating. At this particular moment, after seeing all those horrible pictures of your body, your appetite had gone out the window, but he was so smiley.
“After you eat, I want ya to shower.” Sebastian’s hand came up to your jaw, cupping it as you used it to chew the eggs. “We’ve got a long day of lounging and enjoying each other's company ahead of us.” Sebastian stood from the bed, throwing a wink at you as he left the room dramatically. You stopped eating soon after he left, the food tasting like ash on your tongue. At some point, you got into the bathroom, staring at the reflection in the mirror.
Your phone was in your hand again. The pictures flooding your Twitter feed. Shaky breaths left your mouth as you watched your reflection tilt its head. Tears began gathering in your eyes as it felt like you weren’t in your own skin anymore. You had worked so hard to be comfortable in your own body.
It’s amazing how just one picture can ruin everything.
You leaned forward on the countertop, hands holding up your weight. You shifted towards the mirror, examining every miniscule detail that your eyes could see. Your lids came down quickly, tears dragging down your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes closed, shaking your head back and forth.
“You are not going to let this get to you.” You took a few deep breaths as you turned on the shower. Not wanting to be around the mirror anymore, you kept your bath short, talking to yourself the whole time. By the time you left the bathroom, it was steamed completely, you couldn’t see your reflection even if you wanted to.
“He loves you.” You had a mantra and you continued to repeat it as you walked into your shared closet. “He loves all of you.” You pulled one of his old t-shirts off a hanger. “Sebastian loves you.” A pair of your underwear and his loose boxers covered your lower half. “Sebastian loves all of you.” You shoved your feet into a pair of fuzzy pink socks, leaving the closet still muttering to yourself. You tucked your phone into your waistband after checking your socials again. You know you shouldn’t have, but there was some part of you that just wouldn’t let you not.
The same shit covered your For You page on TikTok. Videos from the trailer of Seb and Shailene and then videos of you and Seb, comparing the two relationships. “They do fit well together.” You thought to yourself. A part of you wondering why Seb was with you in the first place.
“Did you say something, love?” Sebastian looked at you from the couch. A blanket was strewn over his lower half, his upper body inviting, waiting for you to join him. His smile dropped when he took in your glassy eyes instead of your usual happy expression.
“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” He started towards you, eyes running over your body for any outward injuries. An understanding look crossed his face when he saw your phone clutched in your hand. “Y/N, talk to me, baby.” Sebastian’s hands rested on your shoulders, lightly caressing your biceps. You recoiled from his touch, feeling uncomfortable in your own body.
“Just some stuff that some fans posted.” Seb’s thumb traced just under your eye, wiping away the tears. He held his right hand out for your phone, to understand what you were talking about. His brows furrowed deeply as he scrolled, not fully processing how destructive his fans could be. Sebastian always believed that they were the best fucking people in the world. He knew that they could be mean, but this was something else.
“They don’t know what they’re talking about, Y/N.” Sebastian’s voice was firm. It was almost strong enough to cut through the fog invading your brain, but not quite. You had officially zoned out. Dead to the world. Lost in your own thoughts. No matter how destructive those thoughts may be.
Sebastian noticed that you were already too deep, having experienced this with you many times before. He was aware that you were self-conscious, insecure, however you want to describe it. Your anxiety always got worse when you were stressed. Prepping for your dissertation was definitely a stressful time. Add on top of that, Sebastian was constantly pulling you from your work for various reasons. Had he contributed to this? Scratch that thought, he didn’t have time for that. He needed to bring you back down to Earth, back to him.
“Y/N.” His hands hovered over your hips. “I’m going to touch you for a second.” He directed you to the couch, settling on the coffee table in front of you. His fingers lightly traced circles onto your knees, as he assessed how he should approach this.
“Y/N. Baby?” Sebastian hesitated before bringing his fingers up to your chin, not wanting you to react badly. “I’m right here, Y/N, it’s Sebastian.” His left hand hadn’t left your knee, continuing to trace small patterns into your skin, giving you something to ground yourself with. He watched you blink and swallow harshly, inhaling sharply before opening your mouth.
“Why are you with me?” Your chin trembled with unvoiced sobs. “You deserve the world, Seb. I’m not even--” Your sentence was cut off by a loud whimper causing tears to start streak down. Sebastian wasn’t sure if this was a situation where you wanted him to be involved, so he waited for a sign.
“I’m not even worth a glance from you.” Your hand came up to wipe at your runny nose. “They’re so right. You need to be with someone like Shailene.” A bitter sob racked your body, making your body fold in half. Sebastian caught you before you hurt yourself.
“Y/N. I love you.” He always heard you say that to yourself when you thought he wasn’t listening. He knew that you suffered from anxiety, so he was always watching. Always paying attention to your little cues. The little things that he could use to help you as much as he could. “I love all of you.” He held one of your hands, running his thumb over the back of it.
“I don’t care what they say, baby.” He lifted your face to his, steel blue eyes locking with your cloudy pair. “I picked you.” He pecked your right cheek. “I want you.” A peck to your left. “I want only you.” One to your forehead. “It’s always been you, Y/N.” Another on your chin. “I love all of you, Y/N.” Sebastian landed a final short kiss to your lips, lingering for only a second.
“I want you to understand something, Y/N.” His gaze never left you. “I’m not going anywhere.” His brows raised as he hardened his voice. “I’m especially not going anywhere at the behest of my fans. I love them to death, but they don’t get to decide who I love.” Sebastian shifted to sit next to you on the couch. “Is it okay if I put my arms around you?” All he got was a brief nod in return, which was expected.
“I’m yours, Y/N. As much as you’re mine.” His arms descended around you, wrapping you in a loving embrace. You turned to face him fully, bringing your own arms around his waist, shoving your head into his neck.
“I’m sorry you have to deal with all my shit, Seb.” Sebastian almost missed your comment because you spoke into his shoulder and through loud snuffles. He backed away to look you in the face.
“I signed up for this, Y/N. I’m here for whatever we go through.” He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “We go through ‘your shit’ together, Y/N. This is a partnership, a two-way street.” He looked at the weak smile on your face, heart warming slightly at the sight. His face turned serious, casting a glance at your phone on the coffee table.
“How long have you been sitting on this?” He knew how quickly your mind could twist things, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. You bit your lip, not meeting his eyes anymore.
“Just since this morning.” He held you away from his body, watching your expression.
“Is this why you were crying earlier?” You gave him a meek nod in response. “Baby, I thought we talked about this. We have to talk to each other when we think we’re going to go into a funk.” The two of you had talked about it before, but you didn’t think this was going to be a funk.
“I should’ve been able to just shake this off because I know you love me and you won’t leave me because of something that some people on the Internet say.” The words left your mouth before you could process everything, your mind quick to defend itself.
“It’s okay, Y/N. You don’t always have to be able to shake something off. We just have to keep each other in the loop.” Sebastian looked over your tear-stained face, pressing a kiss to your forehead again. “Let’s ditch the phones today. Just spend the day in each other’s arms, how’s that sound?” You smiled softly, nodding at the man in front of you. He got up quickly hiding both of your phones in the kitchen somewhere.
This definitely wasn’t a solution to dealing with your anxiety, Sebastian knew that. It also wasn’t dealing with the toxic people on the Internet, but you didn’t need that right now. You needed to be immersed in an environment that accepted what you were going through without judgement, Sebastian could provide that. Seb hummed happily when you snuggled into his side under the covers on your couch while he searched for a movie. He kissed the top of your head and he felt you smile against his stomach.
“I’m proud of you, draga mea.” You turned to face him, a confused expression lacing your features.
“For what, Seb?” He stroked your face with a single finger, mapping out your features.
“I’m proud of how you handle yourself. I’m amazed at how strong you are, even when you think you’re not.” He leaned closer to you, whispering his next words. “You’re my hero.” One corner of your mouth twitched upwards, not wanting to accept it. You rolled your eyes playfully, settling back onto his stomach before speaking.
“I love you, Sebastian.”
“And I love you, Y/N.”
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shotorozu · 3 years
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TITLE : CARTOON KISSES
pairing : todoroki shouto x reader
synopsis : it looks like your boyfriend doesn’t understand why you like miraculous ladybug, but i guess you could say that he was more jealous, than confused. thus— why he did that
legend : [Y/N = your name, L/N = your name] afab! reader with they/them pronouns, quirk not specific
note(s) : self indulgent because yeah, my birthday‼️‼️ yes i’m an aries. the episode i’m referencing in this fic is backwarder— season 3, episode 4, and dark cupid, season 1, episode 10
this is a birthday fic for me 💅🤍✨‼️
Lately, everything has been hectic— on both sides anyway.
Was it really your fault? Or was it his fault? In fact, it wasn’t either of yours faults. UA was just very meticulous about what the students should be doing when and how.
Then again, it wasn’t like you never saw your boyfriend— Todoroki Shouto; the boy with dual colored hair that could easily blend in with the peppermint candy isle. That’s not the point though, you do actually see him
The only time you get to actually spend some time with him, is when the two of you are in each other’s rooms. Either enveloped in each others arms, or really— doing the most random things, at the most random times.
Or the other possible outcome, watching shows together. Which would rather be right about now.
Shouto lays right beside you, his right arm draped around your shoulder to keep you in his firm hold. Meanwhile, you’re cuddled up right on his side, occasionally pressing your face into his shirt because why not?
“For crying out loud! can’t they just date each other already?!” You exclaim in absolute agony, watching the two main protagonists— Ladybug and Chat Noir, be playful with each other mid-battle.
Shouto’s gaze averts down onto you, and in reality— he doesn’t look all that invested, compared to you, who’s making commentary everytime something drastic happens in the episode. If he wasn’t, you couldn’t really blame him. He only just started watching this show with you merely a few days ago (really, it has only been 2 days.)
“Aren’t they like.. the same people?” He’s puzzled. The masks hide nothing! Even he could piece together that the two heroes could be linked to their civilian selves— most especially, Marinette. Since her persona doesn’t really have a drastic change her appearance, in comparison to her partner.
“Yes, that’s what makes this entire show so.. interesting! They’re so.. oblivious! And this has been dragging on for several years!”
Shouto’s confused, in all honesty. Really, what even is the love square? can’t they just say who they are? he’d guess that the mechanics are different, compared to the real world— where people already know who you are (excluding special cases)
He has so many questions, and his train of thought is put to an end, when he hears a high pitched squeal—
“DID YOU JUST SEE THAT?” You practically squirm in his hold, thrashing back and forth as you replay the scene of Chat Noir kissing Ladybug’s hand, as he bids farewell to her.
“He.. kissed her hand?”
“Yes!” You replay the scene, and you thrash around in your spot on the bed, practically fawning over the simple gesture. His expression falters when he sees you slip out of his grasp, and he can only gently pull you back in
When you kiss his cheek goodbye, as you part ways with him, he’s left sitting in silence. He doesn’t know what to think
I mean, it really could be a stretch of a situation. Why else would you be squealing watching such simple acts of romance— and it all seems too easy. Maybe you like guys similar to Chat Noir? who are natural romantics, and people that are just oozing of confidence? Maybe you love hand kisses? (It’s not like he doesn’t give you them, but.. out in public? not really.)
Or maybe.. there’s something else.
And maybe you like being called M’lady, and names similar to that? he doesn’t really know.
Which is why, he decides to binge at least half of the show, and understand the lore of “Miraculous | Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
You’re puzzled when Shouto starts acting differently
I mean, it could be a dare for all you know— but he doesn’t seem like the type to drag out a dare for 5 days. He wouldn’t be that committed to a.. what would you call this?
It’s.. just different. He’s acting differently, and you could just hope it’s a prank, or even a drawn out consequence of a bet he manage to lose— it would be nice to know about the sudden change of attitude.
He says nothing the next time you guys have another miraculous marathon, nothing out of the ordinary! however, the youngest Todoroki seems to be wanting to do.. something.
As per usual, you’re seated next to him, a change compared to the usual times where you’re slumped against his side, which really— bugged your boyfriend.
Your eyes stayed glued onto the screen, as you attentively watched Chat Noir pull Ladybug down from a dangling roof, chest to chest, shushing her, as if he wanted to tell her all of the things that were on his mind at that exact moment
“It’s happening, it’s happening!” You squeal, as if it wasn’t the 10th time you played said scene— and by the looks of it, you’re a ‘ladynoir’ fan.
You can’t see it, but his two toned eyes narrow down into slits— and he grumbles, knowing that he probably should just.. do it. There’s not stopping it now, he’d take the chance.
When the moment nearly happened, you body made an impulse— and simply moved on it’s on, without much thought.
You wouldn’t have noticed it, due to the awfully large (to an outsider, it wasn’t a large distance, but to him, it was.) distance— but you’re awfully aware of the warm hand trailing down your forearm, your body immediately relaxes when he tugs on your arm with care, peppering kisses along your forearm, and going down to the backside of your hand.
“W-what are you doing?!” You exclaim in surprise, your cheeks heating up like a fresh batch of toast coming out of the toaster. Yet, your hot-cold boyfriend says nothing, and continues to plant kisses onto your skin with no hesitation.
Then, he makes a point to trail back higher and higher, every time his lips press against your skin, you only grow closer to the brink of overheating.
“I figured you’d be interested in such a gesture,” He mutters against the crook of your neck, not caring at all if the kiss he just pressed against your delicate skin, was rather damp at all.
You’re still stunned, you’d question whoever wouldn’t! A second ago, you were just watching cartoons and.. he was—
“I thought it would be nice to.. replicate them.” His gaze shifts onto the screen, referring to the cartoon, of course.
He.. was copying the show?
“You mean by.. flustering me like how Chat Noir flusters Ladybug?”
“You said it, not me.” Which only confirmed your previous theories and questions. You don’t know why and how you didn’t see this all before— but it does make sense now.
You fall forward, bursting into laughter. The effect of his actions seem to be the opposite of what he was hoping for
“I’m sorry, did I..”
“No! You actually got me, don’t get me wrong. You absolutely wooed me!” You poke at his cheek, in a poor attempt in brightening up the hush mood.
“In all seriousness, you don’t need to copy whatever Chat Noir does! Do what feels natural to you, and as much as I really liked that kiss, I prefer.. your signature style of kisses.” Shouto didn’t get the chance to question what you meant at that moment— it being all too quick, since you lifted his arm to rest against his side, your gaze suddenly apologetic “I’m sorry if you felt like you were doing things wrong. No character from a TV show can rival you!”
The knot that he didn’t even know existed, slowly eased away from the pit of his stomach. He smiles, content with your words— he didn’t know how you did it, how you knew the way to his heart with your words but.. he’s happy
“But it did work though, right? I did make you flustered.”
Yeah, Shouto is back to normal, when his terribly blunt questions come back.
And yeah, Chat Noir might be charismatic and swave, but at the end of the day— anything Shouto does fills you with satisfaction, up until the brim.
If it would be cartoon kisses, or his signature style of affection.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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darling-i-read-it · 3 years
Text
Together
Ethan Winters x reader
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: violence, cuss words, spoilers for re7,
Author’s Note: I changed up the ending of the request a tad I hope you don’t mind. I hope you enjoy! I love writing for Ethan so this was a pleasure.
Requested: by @drinksomecoco, So I’ve just had these two fic ideas floating around that I wasn’t able to commit to. For Resi7, the idea is that the reader is someone Lucas had kidnapped and trapped in his weird saw games. They managed to escape while Lucas was distracted with family things and had found their way into the main house right before Ethan escaped his first family dinner, so they end up with him through the whole sordid affair. After everything is over, Ethan now has to choose between his wife, who he now knows lied to him their whole relationship, or the reader, who admitted at some point that they didn’t have much of a home to go to. Obviously wouldn’t expect anyone to rewrite the whole game’s plot, maybe more reflection while they recover and Ethan has to make his choice
Summary: the request
I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator
(not my gif)
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When you woke up your head was throbbing. You felt like you hadn’t known a moment's peace in days. You should have known, you kept telling yourself. You should have known that going this far out into the wilderness would only bring bad things.
A whole family of bad things.
Lucas was the one who found you out wandering by yourself. Honestly, you wished it was anyone else. He was a sadist and he kept putting you in these sick games. You had beaten him so far but you weren’t sure how much longer you could take.
You sat up in the cold empty stone room and rubbed your head. You looked around. There was a single bulb light above your head, illuminating the room. You walked up to the door and grabbed onto the door handle, not expecting it to work.
To your surprise, the handle turned, opening the door up. You stood there for a moment in awe. You had tried that every time you woke up but it had never worked. You had to be careful. There was a possibility it was all part of Lucas’s games. You took a step forward and looked around warily.
Nothing and no one in sight. He must have just made a fatal mistake. Your breath picked up as you started to walk around his little hellscape. It was a winding place, filled with twists, turns and trip wires. You wanted to run but had to make sure you kept your pace. You couldn’t move too fast with the traps littered around.
You took a deep breath as you opened another door and stumbled outside. You wanted to cry from relief. Air. Outside air. You looked around eagerly, making sure you didn’t see anyone else. It was dark outside. There was a trailer and then a large house to your right. You weren’t sure if you would be able to get away if you didn’t go through the house. Everything else looked pretty fenced in.
You went into the trailer and was pleased to find a gun and some ammo in there. You loaded the gun, thankful for the shooting classes you had taken years ago. You put the gun safely in your belt loop and carefully approached the house. You opened up the door a bit and glanced inside the large room.
You took a deep breath as you stepped inside. It was a large room with two staircases on either side of the room. You took in your surroundings. Just had to find a way to the other side of this house. That was all you had to do. The task didn’t seem so daunting when you put it that way.
Suddenly the door on the same floor you were on opened carefully. You took out your gun and held it up as a man opened the door and shut it carefully behind him. He had nicely cut dirty brown hair and he was wearing a green jacket that was covered in black and red liquids.
He turned around and noticed you which caused him to raise his own gun.
“Who are you?” he asked, voice shaking.
“Who are you?” He walked up to you, gun not wavering.
“Answer my question.”
“I...are you part of the family?”
“No. Are you?” You shook your head. You both kept your weapons up though, noticeably untrustworthy.
“I’m Y/N. I was trying to find a nice place out here in the wilderness to take some pictures but Lucas found me and put me in his little hell of games,” you told him. “Who are you? How did you get here?” He thought about whether he was going to answer you and took a deep breath before lowering his gun. You lowered yours as well.
“My wife went missing three years ago. She sent me a message...I found her here. But she’s crazy she tried to kill me and then this fucking family tied me up to a chair and…” He showed you his hand which seemed to be stapled on. You scoffed.
“I can take a look at that if you want. I know a little bit about medical stuff,” you said warily. He nodded a bit.
“I have to get my wife.”
“I have to get out of here.”
“Me too. Eventually.” You nodded a bit. You put your gun in your waistband again and Ethan walked closer to you. He still didn’t entirely trust you but he liked you enough. “Your wifes a lucky girl,” you told him. He smiled a bit. There was some unspoken truth there. Ethan could help you and you could help him.
“You mind telling her that? She’s still trying to kill me.”
=====
You and Ethan walked over to the trailer to get some sort of peace. You couldn’t stay there long but it seemed like it was a place where they didn’t look often. Plus, there was only one door to monitor. He sat on the bed as you knelt in front of him. You were carefully examining his hand.
“The staples were a choice,” you muttered. He chuckled dryly.
“At least it’s back on,” he told you. You nodded and sat down on your knees.
“It looks like you’re able to use it well enough. Once we get out of here we’re gonna have to make sure you get it looked at further. Here’s some more meds if the hand starts hurting.”
“You’re a Godsend.” You gave him a kind smile and stood back up.
“Alright, now where’s your wife?”
“I found a video of her going out to the old house. I have to assume she’s somewhere out there but you know, it’s a working theory.” You nodded. “I talked to Zoe. She said there was a cure here, for Mia.”
“And I assume you’re going to find it?” “If I can.” You took a deep breath and nodded.
“Alright. We’ll probably find it when we go and deal with Marguerite.” He nodded back at you.
“That was what I was hoping for.”
“You dealt with the old man?” He nodded.
“Barely.” You cocked your gun.
“Perfect. Then let’s go give mom a taste of what we got.”
====
“This house is fucking disgusting,” you whispered. Ethan nodded as he crouched down beside a nest of some sort.
“I second that.” He stood up and you quickly moved with him. You were quiet, trying to gauge where on Earth Marguerite was. You kept yourself together as you ran into large bugs and places that made you need to backtrack and find other things.
As you walked through the house you eventually made it up to a small window.
“Ethan?” You turned around, met face to face with some woman you hadn’t seen before.
“Mia!” Ethan ran over and put his hands against the barrier between the two of them. You found yourself hiding a bit of jealousy but you had bigger problems.
“Hey Ethan!” Lucas yelled, grabbing Mia around the neck. Ethan started to shake the barrier. Lucas met your eyes as he pulled her away. “I’ll get you bitch. Just you wait!” You turned to Ethan as Lucas and Mia disappeared. He gave you a nervous look which you returned.
Eventually the two of you made it out to some sort of greenhouse where Marguerite was waiting. She transformed herself into a disgusting, drooping and dangerous form.
Ethan handed you one of his two shotguns which you took with care. You raised it up to where her most vulnerable place was and shot.
Ethen came at her from your side. When your gun got knocked down Ethan put himself between you and your foe. He put his hand on your hip, turning you so you were effectively behind him as he shot his handgun. Together you were able to take her down, after much effort. As she fell and died you suddenly realized how exhausted and in pain you were.
“Are you okay?” Ethan asked, more worried then he thought he was. You nodded a bit and used his shoulder to steady yourself.
“Just a little woozy. We gotta move on.” He nodded and grabbed your other arm, holstering his gun.
“You’re gonna pass out.” You shook your head.
“I am not.” He gave you a look. “You know Ethan Winters, you’re kind of a badass. I would be scared if you were pointing a gun at me.”
“I already did.”
“And I was scared,” you joked weakly. He scoffed and put your arm over his shoulder.
“Let’s get to the trailer and give you a minute before we hit Lucas with all that we got,” he muttered. You nodded.
“That motherfucker doesn’t know what's coming,” you whispered.
“Yeah, a guy with one hand and a girl who’s about to pass out. He’s gonna tremble in fear.”
“Hey now, don’t you underestimate us. We’ve made it this far. Just gotta get him, get your wife and get the fuck out of here.” He didn’t get the same pleasant feeling when he thought of Mia. He decided not to bring it up or dwell on it.
“Alright. I believe you.” ===
Ethan sat on the bed beside you. You were resting for a moment. You promised him only five minutes and he watched the door. He didn’t mind much. You fell into sleep easily, clearly exhausted. He grabbed your hand and held it for comfort.
Your face was so peaceful when you were asleep.
“Ethan,” you whispered, eyes still shut.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“We have to keep moving,” you told him as you squeezed his hand groggily.
“If you pass out Lucas will kill you.”
“Yeah? You would let that happen?” He scoffed. Ethan realized suddenly, he wouldn’t let that happen. You couldn’t get hurt. He chastised his own thoughts, looking down at his ring finger but he couldn’t see it. You were holding his hand and blocking the view.
“Not if I can help it.”
=====
Lucas paid special attention to you. He wanted to make sure you suffered for getting out and killing his parents. You and Ethan were forced to play his little game.
You and Ethan stood together in a locked couple of rooms. He grabbed your arm before you could walk too far into the room.
“Y/N-”
“This is just like the ones he kept me in. I saw the footage of someone else doing this, I know how to do it,” you whispered to him. He watched your eyes. He was sweating and exhausted. He was relieved to hear that you knew what you were doing.
“Go on then.”
You were able to work through that puzzle which did piss Lucas off but you were already gone before he could complain anymore. Now you had the serum and you had both made it out alive.
You found Mia after an aggressive amount of fighting with the Bakers. The more you saw of this family the less you were surprised by the sight. She was stumbling and scared but at the sight of Ethan her face lit up .
“Ethan?! Ethan!” she called, throwing her arms around her. He held her wordlessly for a moment as he dragged her quickly to the boat you and Ethan had found.
“We have a serum, to cure you,” you told her. She gave you a scared look.
“Who are you?”
“She’s a friend,” Ethan said. You held each other's gaze for a moment and gave her a kind smile. “I didn’t see Zoe. Did you find her?” he asked Mia. She shook her head.
“I haven’t seen Zoe in ages. We need to get out of here. We can’t dwell,” she told you both.
“She helped me get this serum.”
“Yeah and that’s much appreciated. But we have to leave,” she said. “We can come back later.” You eyed Ethan. He looked over at you for permission and you shrugged.
“She helped us get this. It seems stupid to leave her.”
Mia was trembling, worried about the escape. You all were. It was right then that Zoe emerged from the darkness.
“Zoe!” Ethan called. She ran over.
“You got the serum?” You gave her a curt look and then had to turn away.
“We..we only have one,” Ethan said. He was holding the only one there. You had to use the other one fighting Jack. You looked away from Mia as she noticed that he was going to have to make a choice.
“Well then you’ll have to choose one of us to give it to,” Zoe said evenly. Mia looked over at him and Ethan just looked at you. You shrugged from behind Mia.
“It’s up to you Ethan.” You could practically see his gears turning in his head. On one hand, Mia was his wife. He came here for her. But on the other hand...Zoe could help them get out. They could try and replicate the serum if they were able to leave sooner.
He grabbed Zoe’s arm and stuck the needle in. Mia gasped, shocked.
“I’m sorry. I truly am. Zoe will be able to guide us to safety,” he told her. You stepped into the boat, helping Zoe inside beside you.
“I’m staying here,” Mia said, disgusted.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ethan countered. “My place is here. With her,” she told him. You watched as Ethan got into the boat in front of you.
“We’ll come back for you,” he promised. Mia’s face was shrouded by the dark shadows as the boat went down the river.
=====
Eventually you came up to a much larger boat. You ended up on the boat, where Eveline was. You had known about Eveline, only through Lucas’s complaints about her. You didn’t realize she was a child or that she was like the way she was. When Eveline realized that Mia might not want to be her mother, she wondered if you would be a candidate.
She knocked you and Ethan out.
You woke up with a start. Your head hasn't stopped hurting since the last time you woke up. Now you had no idea where you were. You stood up shakily. Eveline hadn’t taken your weapons.
“Ethan?! Zoe?!” you called out but there was no response. You looked around at the dark and grimy metal of the boat. You pulled out your gun. “Ethan?!” you called again, hoping that he would answer. Nothing.
You had to start walking around to find them. Your feet started to get wet from the damp atmosphere but you could barely notice. You ran into different mold monsters but were able to keep them down enough for you to pass.
You felt like you had walked for almost an hour before you saw Ethan. He ran into you, breath heaving, gun out.
“Fuck, I almost shot you!” he yelled. “What’s going on? Where’s Zoe?”
“She’s dead! Mia!” You furrowed your eyebrows and then saw that Mia was chasing him down with a weapon. Your eyes went wide. The shots you figured at her merely slowed her down.
“Run!” you told him and both of you started to book it away.
“We need to find Eveline!” he told you as you ran.
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know! But we need to find her!” You nodded, taking a sharp turn.
“Lead the way!”
====
You had to watch Ethan kill his wife. You watched him as his love for her was broken down to pieces as he shot her. You helped obviously. But he fired the last shot, as she asked him why he had chosen Zoe over her. Even you felt your heart clench up a bit and you didn’t love her like Ethan had.
“Mia,” he whispered as she crystallized and then dissipated. “Why?” You walked up to him and put a hand on his back. He turned to you and hugged you tightly, burying his face in your neck. You held him there for a moment and then pulled away. You put your hand on his cheek gingerly.
“We have to keep going. We have to find her.” Ethan nodded and backed away to reload his gun. His face glossed over with grief and rage.
“Let’s go.”
=====
The last fight with Eveline was dirty. You had to get the shot into her and it happened but not after she erupted into screams. She looked like she was just a child. How could just a child do all of the chaos she did?
As your back landed harshly on the ground after being shot out of the house, you felt relief. Relief and pain. You could see the sun rising. For a moment you just laid in the grass as your ears rang.
Then Ethan turned to grab your hand. You turned your head to look at him. His face was dirty and tired. You would probably both sleep for a week after this ordeal. Your hearing came back and you could hear him try and talk to you over the sound of helicopter propellers.
“What?!” you called, probably far more loudly than you intended.
“Are you okay!?” he screamed. You nodded quickly.
“Are you?!” He nodded back.
“Ethan Winters and Y/N Y/L/N?!” You both looked up to see a large man standing over you. You sat up and he held out his hand for both of you to take.
“Yes?!” Ethan called.
“I’m Redfield. I’m glad we found you.”
Chris and his team helped the two of you into a chopper. You sat next to each other as it lifted off. You saw Ethan pull out his phone, miraculously uncracked. A video of Mia was playing on it.
“She lied to me the entire time we were married,” he told you quietly.
“I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that.” He gave the phone one last look and took a deep breath before tossing it out of the helicopter.
“You could have just deleted the video,” you told him, laughing dryly. He scoffed and nudged you.
“Now is not the time,” he said but his voice was miraculously light hearted.
“You’re right. I am sorry though. Once we have a two day long nap we’ll talk more about it.” “Where are you going? After we get back.” You shrugged.
“I don’t have much of a place to get back to honestly. I guess we’ll just see where the wind takes me.”
“Isn’t that how you ended up here?” You nodded sheepishly. He looked down at the house for a long moment before looking back at you. “Stay with me. We can help each other get out of this rut. You can monitor my stapled on hand.” You smiled, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear.
“You sure?”
“I have room for one more now. I’d like it to be you.” You grabbed his hand tightly. He squeezed your knuckles, looking you in the eye.
“Alright,” you breathed. He nodded.
The two of you fell asleep in the helicopter not long after that, leaning on each other for support. You would heal, over time. Together.
Re8 Part 2
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twordytings · 3 years
Note
Hi I’m having a rough day. Can I request a fic where Bucky and Steve give the reader cheer up tickles because she had a bad day? Thank you
Backbone
(Steve and Bucky x Reader)
Summary: You’ve been having a pretty rough few weeks, but there’s always two people that are always there for you; whether you like it or not.
Word Count: 1,859
A/N: Sorry I couldn’t complete this the day of, but i hope this makes your day better than it already was! This does get a teensy bit deep, since I was speaking from personal experience (hence the trigger warning) but I want you guys to know that if you’re ever having a rough day, or ever just need someone to talk to, I’m always here! Please please please don’t be shy to send a message my way!!!
!TW! - Hints to ED
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You came home from school, lugging yourself through the door and going straight up to your room, not even bothering to greet Bucky or Steve, who were sat in the living room. They noticed that you didn’t say hello, since you were always so excited to come home to see them, so they were a bit confused to say the least.
It’s impossible to make a long story short at this point, but to speak in broader terms, you hated yourself. It started when you were at school one day; your teacher, of all people pointed out a part of you that you never thought was a problem: your weight. The same day, after you came home, you looked at yourself in the mirror and couldn’t help but think about everything else that could’ve possibly been wrong with you.
You ended up finding flaws in yourself that you’d never even dreamed of having. Your hair wasn’t like the pretty girls at school, your waist wasn’t as thin as the model you saw on social media, your freckles didn’t look as cute as that little girl you met the other day, your face wasn’t as chiseled as the woman in the TV show you were watching, and your thighs... there was no gap between them. It was as if you were being hit by a bunch of waves nonstop; and now you were drowning. It got to the point where all you would consume each day was a cup of iced coffee and gum, but you still weren’t satisfied with how you looked; wearing baggy clothing and avoiding meals with the excuse of having a lot of homework became a normal routine for you. You were physically and emotionally exhausted, and honestly just wished you could hide inside of a shell for as long as possible. Unfortunately, you didn’t have a shell, but your room would have to do.
You slung your backpack off your shoulder and roughly ripped your shoes off your feet, immediately crawling under the covers of your bed. It was nice, being in your own space, until you heard a knock on your door. You groaned at the sound, hoping whoever it was would leave after your nonexistent reply; but yet again, another knock.
“Ugh. Go awayyy!”
“It’s Steve. Can I come in?” he said as he poked his head in a bit.
“Well you already opened the door so... yeah I guess.” you said from underneath your covers, body covered from head to toe. Steve smiled a bit, walking over to sit beside the lump in your bed which was you.
“You wanna tell me why you’re upset?”
“Uh uh.” you responded, still under your sheets.
“C’mon take that off your face I can barely hear you-” he said as he ripped the sheet away from your face. You sat up in annoyance, seeing that Bucky was now walking into your room to join in on the interrogation. You subconsciously rolled your eyes, not wanting anything to do with the two at the moment, but you knew they weren’t gonna leave you alone until they knew exactly what was up with you. Bucky walked to the side that Steve wasn’t on, but sat next to you on the bed as well.
“You okay doll?” Bucky asked with concerned look on his face.
“Guys, I’m fine. Just had a rough day is all...” you said as you looked down, fiddling with your fingers. They looked at each other in worriment. What you didn’t know was that they’d noticed your behavior over the last few weeks. It wasn’t hard to; you had gone from a happy go lucky teenager to a quiet mouse in a matter of a couple days. Steve took hold of your fidgety hands, wanting to cry at the sheer sight of how much they were shaking before he had grabbed them.
“No. You’re not fine. And that’s okay,” as he looked you straight in your big doe eyes, “but we need you to be honest with us, okay?” He had never looked so concerned before. You obviously knew what you were going through, but failed to recognize that they were probably petrified for you as well. For as long as you could remember, Steve and Bucky were always there for you; whatever problem you had, they fixed; if you were troubled by something or another, they always cheered you up. It was probably eating them from the inside out, not knowing what was going on with you. You played with his hands a bit, looking at him and then Bucky before you started to explain.
“I... I hate myself.” you said as your voice already began to crack, tears threatening fall. The two looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, but let you continue without interruption. “Everything about me... I’m just so ugly!” you were crying now, not bothering to wipe your face off in front of the two. “I’m not as pretty as all the other girls. I’m a waste of space.” You’d been numb for so long that it actually felt good to cry.
“Hey hey hey! Don’t say something like that about yourself!” Bucky interrupted, a bit furious at the fact that you could even fathom such a thing about yourself, but keeping a calm tone with his voice nonetheless. He scooted closer to you, wiping your tears off with his bare hands as he swiped his hand off onto his shirt, not caring if it got dirty. “Y/n,” he said, pulling your face by your chin so you were looking at him, “you... are beautiful. Every single thing about you-”
“Even my freckles?” you interrupted quietly. He chuckled in pure adoration.
“Especially your freckles, sweet girl.” he affirmed. He was upset at the fact that you weren’t joking with that question... that you were genuinely asking, not even a smile grazing your lips. Steve, on the other hand was tearing up a bit. He was the more sensitive one of the two, for obvious reasons. “Do you understand what I’m saying? The way that you’ve been avoiding your meals and wearing our clothes all the time... it needs to stop.” You guiltily looked down once again, reflecting on how bad it actually was. This gave Steve a bit of time to collect himself as he took you into his lap, holding you how he did when you were much smaller, although you still fit in his arms just how you always had.
“Hey,” Steve said, looking down at you as you looked up at him, your nose a bright red from all the crying, “there is absolutely nothing wrong with how you look. I don’t know where you got that idea from, but that doesn’t matter now... what matters is that you are the most adorable girl on the planet, and you don’t need me or anyone else to tell you that. The way your nose twitches like a bunny when you’re nervous, how your tongue sticks out a little when your super concentrated, and your cute little laugh...” he said, following with a few pokes to your stomach, making you giggle for just a second, but it was enough to provoke him into a full blown tickle attack, cuing Bucky in to help him. Tickling you silly was always their sure fire way of cheering you up - in this case, lightening the mood as well - so you couldn’t say you were surprised. That isn’t to say you weren’t in agony whenever they did it.
“wahaHAHAHAIT GUHUHUHUYS!” you yelped, kicking your legs out as they moved from spot to spot, not even needing to hold you in place since you were already wedged between them.
“Steve, why’s she laughing so hard?”
“Yeah y/n what’s so funny over there?” Steve quipped.
“IT TIHIHICKLESSSSS!” you screamed in frustration, batting at their hands to no avail.
“Yeah it’s supposed to... duh.” Bucky teased, earning a few aggravated whines from you. The two had paused as if they could read each other’s minds; you were confused as to why they stopped so soon, but it wasn’t for no reason. They both had evil grins plastered on their faces, which told you that they weren’t done yet.
“Okay y/n...,” Steve started, his hands resting on your stomach, “do you want raspberries or-”
“NONONONONO PLEHEASE NO!”
“you didn’t let me finish! Or... do you want ribs?” Bucky snorted at the awful proposal, but went along with it regardless.
“Uhm... is neither an option?” you said hopefully.
“It’s either one or both...” Steve stated seriously, noticing your eyes widen at the ultimatum, almost breaking character at how your eyes began to dart between him and Bucky.
“Better hurry up y/n... time’s tickin’...” Bucky chimed as he pretended to tap a watch on his wrist.
“I’m not choosing!” you said, attempting to sound as angry as possible, but they saw right through you.
“Ladies and gentleman... we have a winner!” Bucky announced in a deep voice. “Miss y/n wins both raspberries and ribs!” Steve snickered at Bucky’s voice as he was amused by his performance, but looked back at you straight after.
“You ready?” he said all too softly as he menacingly hovered over you.
“Please dohohon’t!” you begged, nervous giggles pouring out of you.
“Sorry bug but you brought this upon yourself...” Steve shrugged as he spoke half-heartedly. You braced yourself as the two dug in, Steve taking care of the raspberries as Bucky shook his hands into your ribs. You shrieked so loud, they were surprised you hadn’t broken a sound barrier.
“STAHAHAHAHAP!” you screamed. They had figured you were pretty tired considering you’d just gotten home from school, so after a few more minutes of their fun, they decided to let up. You immediately curled up like a slinky as they stopped, wrapping your arms around your body to protect yourself from any more unexpected attacks.
“Oh relax... we’re done, I promise...” Steve laughed. “...as long as you start eating, correctly.”
“Cross my heart.” you vowed as Steve stood up, satisfied with your response. Bucky smiled at you sweetly, lifting up your curled form onto his lap this time, kissing the top of your head as he held you tightly. “I love you guys... and thanks for making me feel better.”
“Love you too lil sis...” Steve said as he leaned down to kiss your cheek, pinching it once before he went to leave the room.
“We love you more than anything, sweet girl.” Bucky said softly. It would take some time; gaining the courage to eat full meals and wearing your own clothes again, but you knew that with Bucky and Steve, you’d be just fine. You were upset that you hadn’t talked to them sooner, but it was better late than never. They were your rock, and you were their pride and joy, and you knew that they would rather die than allow you to feel so terribly about yourself. It might be sappy to say, but you would never change the relationship you had with them for the world; that was one thing you knew for sure.
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alphadaddyderek · 3 years
Text
Dude, just get out! (we both live here dumbass!) (sterek fic, smut, college au)
Stiles was initially excited to go to college. The freedom aspect of it in particular is what Stiles was the most excited about. Don’t get him wrong, he loves his dad, of course, he does. He didn’t mind living with him, he liked seeing him on a daily basis. He’s all Stiles has. Well, Stiles has Scott, but Scott is attending university in Arizona of all places. Meanwhile, Stiles is going to NYU, so, there’s not a lot of opportunities to see Scott or his father in person.
Not to fret though! Stiles was ready like Freddy to meet new people and, hopefully, make new friends along the way. That’s what college is all about. Supposedly, Stiles wouldn’t know but if all the movies are to be believed then that’s what college is all about.
He and his dad spent days driving up to NYU and then spent hours moving Stiles’ belongings into his off-campus apartment and unpacking. Stiles got a full-ride —thank god— so there’s extra money for him to be able to live in an actual, nice apartment instead of the dorms. His roommate was nowhere to be seen at the time, but that was fine with Stiles. He’d have plenty of opportunities to get to know him. Stiles’ dad left to stay in a hotel for the night because there was no way he was starting the trek back to Beacon Hills this late in the day. So, Stiles was left to his own devices in his new apartment.
Well, he was for about twenty minutes, then his roommate came back and...he’s kind of a dick.
He has a resting bitch face and he hardly likes to talk. Stiles doesn’t know if it’s because the guy doesn’t like him or if he’s just the quiet type. He’s starting to think that the guy doesn’t like him because every time Stiles starts talking he looks annoyed. The dick’s name is Derek and coincidentally, he also goes to NYU. He did tell Stiles his major, but wouldn’t tell Stiles what his favorite color was, which is just plain rude.
Anyway, Stiles isn’t going to let this Debbie downer ruin his college experience, no way!
Stiles decides the best thing to do is to just ignore him. Which is hard to do because the guy takes up so much space, like, he’s actually huge. And he always seems to be in the apartment when Stiles comes back from classes. Which is weird because, dude, don’t you have classes to go to? Nonetheless, he’s always there which means Stiles has to see him all the time and Derek can continue being an asswipe for no reason.
For example, Stiles sometimes forgets to wash the dishes —sue him!— and Derek will chew him out for it. Stiles didn’t know Derek was such a neat freak, but now that he knows he’ll leave more things laying around because Stiles can also be a dick when he wants to be. Maybe Derek should learn to be more personable, then Stiles wouldn’t have to go out of his character by doing such petty things. They’ve only been living together for about a week and a half and there’s already a turf battle going on. Stiles isn’t sure who’s going to win this battle, however, the sight of Derek tripping over one of Stiles’ shoes and the subsequent curse that flies out of his mouth makes Stiles not even care in the end.
--------------
After about a month, it's way more than just a battle. The turf battle has evolved into a war and now, no one is safe.
Derek continues being yucky and Stiles continues to do things to intentionally annoy him, except, now Derek is doing things to annoy Stiles. Like, eating all of Stiles’ Pop-Tarts or, and this is a cruel one, flushing the toilet while Stiles is in the shower. Unfortunately for Stiles, Derek buys gross ass healthy food for himself, and Stiles couldn’t choke down that food to save his life. So, what can one do to even the playing field?
Derek is sitting on the couch in the living room, watching some show about underwater caves. Stiles normally wouldn’t stick around because, despite what Derek might think, Stiles really doesn’t enjoy being talked down to by an abnormally grumpy man. This time though, Stiles sits down beside him. He can see Derek watching him from the corner of his eye, probably waiting to see what Stiles is going to do. Stiles likes to instill fear in Derek. Normally he acts like Stiles is nothing more than a bug he wants to squish under his overly expensive boot, but now? He’s worried. He should be. Stiles is going to pull out his ultimate weapon.
“So, whatcha watchin’?” Stiles asks, plastering a smile onto his face.
Derek gives him a suspicious look. “Why do you want to know?”
Stiles shrugs, smile still present. “I’m curious. This show seems interesting.”
Derek gives him an incredulous eyebrow raise, which is super insulting. Derek thinks all Stiles watches is Harry Potter, Star Wars, and superhero movies. Which is just wrong. But that’s okay. Stiles thinks all Derek watches are documentaries about how to be a functioning human in society, which, newsflash Derek, still needs working on.
A few minutes go by before Stiles decides to speak again. “So, you haven’t told me about your family.”
“That’s intentional.”
Stiles laughs. Derek thinks he can scare Stiles into leaving him alone. Unfortunately for Derek, Stiles has zero self-preservation skills.
“Come on Derek. We’re roommates. Don’t you want us to get along?”
Derek didn’t dignify that with a response —rude!— so Stiles speaks again.
“My dad is the sheriff of my hometown. Been that way for as long as I can remember. My best friend, his name is Scott, wants to be a vet. He goes to The University of Arizona. After that he’s not sure where he’ll go to get his DVM but he’s open to anything.”
Derek turns the volume up on the tv and Stiles bites his lip to stifle his laughter.
Ah, Derek. That won’t help.
“At first I was kinda skeptical about Scott becoming a vet. I mean, he’s a puppy himself, and I love him to death, but sometimes he’s ditzy. He’s a ditzy brunette. But after working at Deaton’s, Deaton is the town vet, for years he’s proved me wrong,” Stiles risks a glance at Derek and he’s scowling so hard Stiles is kind of afraid it’ll get stuck that way forever. “He and his girlfriend, Allison, are kind of having issues with long-distance but they’re high school sweethearts so I’m confident that they’ll work through it. They’re so cute together that it’s actually kinda nauseating. Like, sometimes their sappiness makes me sick to my stomach. I wonder when they’ll get ma-”
Derek abruptly stands up and walks out the room, slamming and locking his bedroom door, as if Stiles is the boogeyman who he’s trying to keep out.
Stiles snickers and grabs the remote to change the channel. Derek gets annoyed when Stiles talks, well, he shouldn’t have started this war then (it doesn’t matter that technically Stiles started it). Stiles has weaponized his ability to talk people’s ears off. So, Derek better watch out.
Hopefully, Derek won’t murder Stiles in his sleep.
--------------
Okay, so, Stiles thinks maybe this whole turf war thing is getting out of hand.
It’s been a total of 3 and a half months since they’ve been living together and Derek and Stiles are on edge around each other 24/7. Stiles has to shower around eleven o’clock at night so that Derek won’t burn him alive by flushing the toilet. Derek doesn’t have access to Stiles’ snacks anymore because Stiles hid them in the back of his closet. Derek stays in his room all day just so that Stiles won't have any opportunities to talk to him. They’re at an impasse, but Stiles has a feeling that the worst has yet to come.
A really bad feeling.
Stiles comes back from a particularly grueling day of classes to see Derek sitting on the couch...and he’s smirking.
That doesn’t bode well for Stiles.
“Hello, Stiles.”
“Uh, hey dude. Why do you look like a supervillain?”
“‘Cause I have a surprise for you.”
Yeah, that definitely didn’t sound good.
“Actually, I am a-okay. I really don’t need the surprise. I appreciate it though,” Stiles tries to make his way towards his room but Derek keeps talking.
“I normally don’t snoop through people’s things, it’s really not in my character, but after you left to go out last night, I heard some weird noises coming from your room. I was trying to ignore it at first, but after a while I went to see what it was. I was going to mention it this morning but you woke up before I did and by the time I had woken up you were already in class.”
Stiles had stopped in his tracks but he still hasn’t turned around to face Derek, because if Derek is going where Stiles thinks he’s going, Stiles is going to need to be able to book it into his bedroom as soon as possible.
Derek didn’t seem too perturbed by Stiles’ silence since he continues with his story. “Imagine my surprise when I found out that it was your laptop making that noise. Now, I wasn’t surprised by the fact that porn was playing, but what I was surprised at-”
Oh god.
“-was that the video you were watching was titled ‘bear fucks twink with huge cock’. And now I can’t help but question your hatred towards me.”
Stiles’ face is burning. He’s never been so embarrassed in his life, which is really a great feat because Stiles doesn’t get embarrassed by much. It’s not that Stiles didn’t notice Derek was hot, like, come on now, Derek is gorgeous. He’s not that much taller than Stiles but the size of his biceps? They’re easily the size of Stiles’ thigh. Derek is bigger than Stiles in every aspect.
Well, he’s not sure about every aspect. Stiles has never seen Derek’s dick outright, but he’s seen him wear sweatpants, and ooh boy, that bulge gives Stiles the impression that Derek is hung like a horse.
Stiles still hates Derek because Derek still has his asshole-ish ways. Case in point: right the fuck now. But, you can hate someone and still want to fuck them, right? Hate sex exists.
Derek is patiently waiting for Stiles to respond, and Stiles has never been good at staying silent, so it’s only a matter of time.
Stiles finally turns around to face Derek and clears his throat. “That- that means nothing. People watch shit like that all the time. Plus, you hardly qualify as a bear.”
It’s a weak excuse but, hey, Stiles is grasping at straws here.
Derek tilts his head to the side in agreement. “True, but if that was the case, why do you seem so nervous?”
Stiles can’t think of a reasonable response in time and Derek knows it.
Derek smirks again and Stiles really wants to knee him in the dick.
“Do you wanna fuck me?”
Stiles narrows his eyes at Derek. What the fuck is his endgame here? Why is he being such a dick?
Oh yeah, because Derek is a fucking asshole.
“Fine,” Stiles says through gritted teeth. “I find you attractive. I watch porn about big, hairy men fucking twinks because I want you to fuck me. Are you happy now? Jackass.”
Stiles storms into his room and slams the door. That’s a perfect example of why people can’t be pretty and nice. It’s genetically impossible.
Stiles lets out a sigh and dumps his backpack on his bed before stripping out of his clothes and getting into the shower. He stands under the spray for ten minutes, just praying to the cosmic gods out there that a black hole will appear and suck the whole human race into nothingness. After waiting for a few more minutes, and his prayers going unanswered, he washes himself then gets out to dry off. He wraps the towel around his waist and opens the door to find Derek standing outside his bathroom door. He shrieks (a very manly shriek by the way) and covers his chest with his arms, not that that’ll hide much.
“Derek, what the fuck are you doing?”
Derek’s eyes do the slowest sweep in fucking existence down Stiles’ body and Stiles feels his cheeks flush. Ugh, why are the cutest guys always assholes?
“I came to apologize. I was being a dick-”
“What else is new?” Stiles interrupts. Stiles is rewarded with another smirk.
“-and I took it too far. I’m sorry I embarrassed you.”
Stiles looks at Derek for a second. They’ve never apologized to each other when they did shit, and even though Stiles didn’t take it as far as Derek did, Stiles can’t stand here and act like he wasn’t also an asshole.
Stiles sighs. “I’m sorry too. I was also kind of a dick. Not as much as you, but still.”
Derek laughs a little, and Jesus H. Christ, how is a laugh sexy? “Apology accepted.”
Stiles holds his hand out for a handshake. Derek puts his hand in Stiles’ and they shake on their newfound not-friendship-but-also-maybe-not-complete-dicks-to-each-other-ship.
“So,” Derek starts after they drop their hands. “wanna have sex?”
Stiles might’ve actually choked on his own fucking spit, because what?
“What?”
“I asked if you wanted to have sex.”
“Where is this even coming from? You hate my guts. Every time I talk you look like you’re going in for a root canal.”
Stiles is so confused, he’s also getting hornier by the minute, but right now, the confusion is outweighing the horniness.
“I don’t hate you. Yeah you talk a lot, and it was so annoying at first, sometimes it still is, but I got used to your incessant chatter.”
Stiles knows he looks dumb, his mouth is gaping and everything. “I think maybe there was something in the water because I must be high. We’ve lived together for over 3 months and you’re telling me that you actually want to have sex with me?”
Derek shrugs. “Yeah. Just because you can be kinda annoying that doesn’t mean you’re not cute. Plus, people have sex all the time, that doesn’t mean we have to, like, date or whatever.”
Stiles rolls his eyes. Derek’s so romantic, how has Stiles been able to resist jumping his bones for this long?
“You just embarrassed the hell out of me, why would I ever want to have sex with you?” Never mind the fact that Stiles definitely does want to have sex with him.
“Maybe you don’t. If not, then fine. We can just go back to how things were. If you do, then we’ll have a great time.”
Stiles is still struggling to wrap his mind around all of this. Derek wants to have sex with him? In what universe does that make sense?
Apparently in this one.
Stiles does this sort of shrug that basically portrays well, what the fuck? Okay then. “Okay. I guess this is happening then.”
Derek smirks for like the fiftieth time in thirty seconds and if Stiles was a stronger man he definitely would’ve kneed Derek in the dick, but clearly, Stiles is weak.
Very, very weak.
“My room or yours?” Derek asks.
“Mine. Since it’s right there,” Stiles points behind Derek and, lo and behold, there’s Stiles’ bed.
Grabbing Stiles’ hand in a surprisingly gentle gesture, Derek walks the three feet from the bathroom to the bed to lay Stiles down.
Derek gets on top of the bed and is sitting on his knees by Stiles’ feet. He pulls his shirt off like he’s in Magic Mike or something before throwing it onto the floor without a care in the world. Jesus, it’s like his muscles have muscles. Stiles starts feeling a little insecure about his body. He’s got muscles, but, he’s not, like, ripped like Derek is. Stiles likes to think he has somewhat of a swimmer’s body.
Looming over him like a fucking creeper, Derek stares down at Stiles. “You know, you’re very pretty.”
Stiles refuses to admit that he blushes at that because he’s not pretty. If anything he’s handsome, some may even say gorgeous.
“Can you just get on with it?” Stiles throwing a scowl in Derek’s direction.
“Bossy. I kinda like that,” he strips his sweatpants off and throws them down too. Now he’s only in a pair of gray boxer briefs and, god, Stiles wants to suck his dick so badly. Which is weird because he’s really not all that experienced with blowjobs, he’s given maybe two blowjobs in his life. Whatever, Derek has a great dick okay?
Derek tugs at the towel around Stiles’ waist. “Is this okay?”
Stiles nods and then the towel is gone, and Stiles is laid bare for Derek to gaze at his leisure. And boy does Derek gaze. He does another slow sweep down Stiles’ body, except this time it’s even more intense because now Stiles is naked.
“You’re not a virgin right?” Derek asks while rummaging through Stiles’ bedside drawer and pulling out the lube. First of all, it’s rude to go through people’s stuff! Second of all, how the hell did Derek know his lube was there? Although, where else would lube be?
“Nope. There will be no deflowering of the Stiles today. Sorry to disappoint.”
Derek shrugs before popping open the lube. “I’m not one of those weirdos who pops a boner at the thought of popping someone’s cherry.”
Stiles chuckles, like actually chuckles. Who knew Derek was even capable of being funny?
Stiles pulls his legs up and hooks his hands behind his knees. The position exposes Stiles’ hole to the extreme and it makes Stiles blush. Just because he’s not a virgin doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get nervous or embarrassed during sex.
Derek knee-walks closer to Stiles and squirts some lube onto his fingers. He puts one hand on Stiles’ right thigh while the other one gently and slowly breaches his entrance. Fuck, his fingers are thick. Thicker than Stiles’ that’s for sure. Stiles definitely isn’t shy about fingering. He fingers himself all the time, but it’s been a while since someone else’s fingers were up there. Stiles is nervous and excited about it all.
Derek doesn’t spend too much time with the one finger, quickly adding a second one and that’s when it starts feeling good. Derek’s fingers are about an inch away from his prostate and Stiles is about to curse him out until Derek presses both fingers against his prostate and Stiles has to bite his lip to stop the loud ass moan that almost escaped his mouth. Judging by the look on Derek’s face, he knows he touched Stiles’ prostate, and being the asshole that he is, he has a cocky smile on his face.
After scissoring those two fingers inside Stiles for a few minutes, Derek adds a third finger. The stretch is definitely there, but hey, Stiles likes a little pain with sex. He can be kinky sometimes.
“Okay. I’m ready, come on,” Stiles says. He was starting to get impatient. He just wants to get dicked down already, damn.
Derek gently removes his fingers and gets off the bed to pick up his sweatpants. He reaches into the pocket and retrieves a condom out. Stiles’ mouth drops.
“So you just knew I’d have sex with you?”
“I didn’t know. I just hoped.”
That smarmy little bastard.
Derek gets back in bed and, finally, removes his briefs and...
Holy mother of god.
Well, maybe not the mother of god. That’s blasphemous as fuck. But! The sentiment is the same because wow. Stiles is glad he didn’t knee him in the dick because that dick is too gorgeous to cause serious injury to. He’s not like porn star big, but it is big and long too. And it’s uncut, which Stiles has a weird sort of kink about. He loves uncut cocks. Yeah, that’s a good-looking cock right there.
Derek unwraps the condom and rolls it onto his cock. He then grabs the bottle of lube that he placed on the bed and squirts more out before slathering a generous amount onto said cock. He makes Stiles move his hands before replacing them with one of his own, the other is at the base of his cock, lining it up to Stiles’ hole.
“You ready baby?” Derek asks.
“Call me baby again and I’ll dropkick you in the throa- oh fuck.”
Of course, Derek chose when Stiles was mid-threat to start pushing his cock inside. Geez, that is seriously a big cock, even the fingering didn’t make it burn any less. Derek gently pushes his cock in deeper before pulling it out, then he pushes it in a little deeper than he did at first before pulling it back out again. He repeats that until his cock is seated all the way inside, his balls to Stiles’ ass. Then he stops and waits. There’s sweat gathering above Derek’s eyebrow and some is even rolling down his temple. Needless to say, Derek isn’t as unaffected as he’s trying to be. Which makes Stiles feel kind of great actually.
“Okay, you can move now,” Stiles informs Derek. And when Stiles says Derek goes to town, he really means that.
Derek puts his other hand behind Stiles’ left knee and pulls out all the way, not even the tip is inside, before thrusting back in. Hard.
Stiles’ breath gets forced out of him at the movement. This truly is hate sex, kinda. Derek said he didn’t hate Stiles, but he certainly doesn’t like him all that much. At least, not yet. Who knows what will stem from this. That’s something to think about when Derek isn’t pounding him into the mattress.
Derek delivers a thrust that nails Stiles’ prostate dead on and Stiles makes this super embarrassing sound, like a high-pitched keen. He knows he’s not going to live that down after this.
After that, Derek is consistent with the hard abuse on Stiles’ prostate, and Stiles is getting close to orgasm embarrassingly fast. He isn’t too sure he’ll be able to last much longer. Although, Derek doesn’t seem like he’s going to be able to either. If the grunts and groans he’s letting out are anything to go by.
“Unh, fuck. Derek-!”
“Yeah, you’re gonna come?”
Stiles frantically nods his head and grabs his own cock to start stroking himself. Derek thrusts harder if that’s even possible, and within a few seconds, Stiles is coming all over his stomach.
“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek groans and thrusts one, two, three more times before stopping with a deep, guttural moan. He almost sounds like an actual bear and Stiles can’t help the giggle that escapes him.
Derek gives him a weird look but his lip quirks up in a maybe sort of smile. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh nothing,” Stiles gives him a shit-eating grin.
And since it’s already been established that Derek is an asshole, he grinds and his cock brushes against Stiles’ oversensitive prostate causing Stiles’ whole body to convulse. He slaps Derek’s arm.
Derek pulls out and lets go of Stiles’ legs. They’re sore from being in the same position for so long but Stiles can’t even care. He’s sated and all he wants to do now is take a nap. Stiles stretches his whole body like a cat while Derek disposes of the condom.
“Okay, that was fun. If you want to annoy me, I’ll be in my room.” And with that, Derek walks out of Stiles’ room to go to his own.
Derek was definitely a dick, but Stiles could deal with him. Especially if they continue to fuck like that.
Holy (not) mother of god indeed.
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lovely-necromancy · 3 years
Text
A Cure for Insomnia CH 1.
This is a reader insert I originally started posting on AO3. I’m cross posting here because I know some of the fandom still lives here.
Quick Disclaimer:
This is a fic I'm writing for my own comfort.
I was inspired by RaeBees (you can check out their works over on Quotev and AO3), and how they characterize the "proxies". Having always seen the characters different than most of the fandom I've interacted with I never really shared my thoughts until now. This work is only placed in the Creepypasta tag so it reaches its demographic. However, I am fully aware of the fact that no main character is considered a Pasta.
It may also appear to lean more Toby X Protag in the beginning but end goal is protag with all three, and Brian and Tim already in a relationship. How I picture it now is a slowburn but Toby and Protag will be in a friends with benefits relationship before either has any feelings, so I think that counts. Some may be confused by the asexual protag tag but it'll be explained in story, as an Ace myself I get frustrated with media that only show one version and say it goes for us all. That being said I don't represent the whole Ace community but I hope to provide a bit more representation for some others out there.
Protag will be depicted as agender, and will have a few tics that stem from their Autism. Again I don't speak for any others with Autism but I hope to provide some representation for those in similar positions.
Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Canon-Typical violence and mental health issues are to be expected if you feel uncomfortable with those aspects I advise you to not engage. This story will also have a lot of NSFW themes and scenes so I highly discourage anyone under the age of 18 from viewing this work. You will get warnings on chapters with NSFW and I will make it skippable as well.
I'm also very nitpicky and gave the main characters birthdays just because it irritates me when it gets mentioned once and you have to do the math or imagine your own conversation when a birthday was too close to a character's.
Tim January 1st, home state Alabama
Toby April 28th, home state Virginia (saw this years ago no clue if it's accurate)
Protag May 13th, home state Virginia
Brian May 23rd, home state Alabama
Connor the service dog July 18th, home state Kentucky
I've referred to Protag as Protag here but in story they're referred to as YN.
Everything felt impossibly dull; your senses, the dark room you're currently in, the noise coming from the fan just to the left of the bed on which you laid. Turning to the window beside your head you stare out into that weird midnight summer sky. More of a gray than a true dark blue night, cast in an orange glow that made the night seem closer to day than it truly was. While the time was just half past twelve, you felt it may have been more accurate to say it was closer to four in the morning.
You're exhausted but that true sort of exhaustion where whatever energy you have left buzzes all around. It consumes your entire being, dances between being deafeningly loud in your ears to giving you twitches in your legs. You'd laid down hours ago thinking you'd be tired enough to sleep once your tics started to spasm in closer intervals, but to no avail were you able to rest. That buzzing preventing you from dreamland. Maybe the hum of your body was right, you didn't really need to sleep, you just wanted it to feel normal.
Knowing the battle had already been lost you push yourself off the bed and grab a pair of shorts off the floor. Slipping them on you contemplate your options for the night. Going into town was out since it was Sunday...well Monday now, but there would be nothing but bars open and you were never one for drinking. And as fun as a drive sounds right now, you feel the buzzing in your bones grow stronger, you need to move. A late night hike should keep you occupied, with it being so quiet and the middle of the night you wouldn't even have to take your headphones to cancel out the sounds of other people, you aren't likely to run into many people tonight.
Deciding on a hike you grab a mask and car keys and make your way to your yellow Kia Soul. A going away present from your parents that they gave you the moment you got your driver's license after your 24th birthday. Having anxiety throughout your life you'd never been in the head space to start driving till later on, and while you still don't enjoy driving you are pretty good at it even with your “late” start. Surfing through radio stations as you let the car warm up you find your latest obsession, it's a conspiracy theory podcast that someone in Kepler managed to blast through the limited air ways of the town. Impressive considering Kepler was in a radio quiet zone and even cell phones couldn't work in the small town, luckily you lived just outside of the zone so you could send texts and call your parents every weekend.
It seemed today's episode was a rerun, Mothman: Murderer, Man, or Myth. It was actually one of your favorites, the paranormal stories tended to be more entertaining than hearing about how a man could murder sixteen people while working as a cop ruining evidence to lead the others off his trail. Humans could be more vial and cruel than any little gray alien from the future or tall Fresno Nightcrawler could ever be. And they weren't as entertaining to hear about, nor were their exploits as impressive. You could always see patterns, either connecting clues first or finding connections no one else saw, it was never hard to tell where a certain case would lead so you'd always end up disappointed in humanity when they overlooked such obvious clues. Though that often led you down a path of deep diving for information to see just how obvious it was, more often than not you'd find that the most logical conclusion was shady public officers. After investigating so many cold cases you're sure if you're ever in trouble you'll never involve the police, in the end they'd probably just ignore you and rule your case closed if anything ever did happen to you.
'I'd haunt them if they did.' You decide and you shift gears and begin driving to the Monongahela National Forest, as the timeline of Mothman sightings and events play out before for your ears.
Instead of going through town and possibly loosing the signal of the show, you drive on the old dirt road that runs along the very edge of the town, partially covered in trees. This over grown road is the main reason Kepler doesn't see many visitors, the second someone makes their way onto it coming off the interstate they floor it until they see civilization. Over the few months you've been here you've nearly been run right off the road by spooked tourists, trying to escape whatever ghouls their wild imaginations created. The only real thing on this road was a mini mart gas station, and even though it was shady as hell the cashier didn't bug you too much when you came in in the dead of night. Plus they had a cat, how could you not stop in and say hi to little ole Magnolia?
Speaking of which you should probably get a drink for your hike, you could already feel your throat drying out. Turning into the parking lot you're happy to see no other cars around, putting your face mask on you make your way inside. As usual the store is dead at this time, and Ronnie is manning the desk. What's unusual is the man also behind the counter, he has dark brown hair that he's tied into a small and low ponytail, thick sideburns frame his face. You immediately take note of the slight imperfections of his face, most would see the slit in his eyebrow as following the current trend or even just a genetic thing, but you can see the slightly off color of a healed scar that starts just above his eyebrow and ends mid eyelid, he has a few smaller discolorations on his crooked nose, you'd guess he's had it broken at least twice.
Briefly taking a glance to his brown eyes before looking away, today is not an eye contact day. Nodding in their directions, the best acknowledgment you can give right now, you make your way to the freezers. From the freezer section you can hear Ronnie “explain” you.
“That's YN, a regular mainly at night though. A bit skittish and rarely ever says more than 'thanks have a nice day'” Even though she's whispering you can hear everything. Including the high octave her voice takes to mimic you, it feels more like mocking.
If being mocked hadn't already put you on edge the eyes boring into you have. The eyes may not be roaming over your body but the icky crawling of your skin sure makes it feel that way. The feeling of being put under a microscope has always made you sick, the stares, the leers and sneers, and the judgment just makes you want to implode on the spot. Cease existence, be swallowed into the abyss. You're about to set yourself into an anxiety attack with all these thoughts.
'Mask, mask, mask' you repeat over and over in your head, it's the only thing you can focus on. You are wearing a mask, there is one thing they can't perceive, the face is the most important for humans to perceive, your mask protects you.
Without looking you pull a water bottle from the cooler. You don't think you like this brand but the sports mouth makes up for it, and you can't focus enough to grab another. As the imaginary spiders crawl their way under your skin and your breath hitches you make your way over to the counter head down, never looking up at the employees beyond the counter. Your vision is blurring in time with the beating of your heart, you can't tell if it's due to nerves or from being up for five days in a row.
“Hey YN, how're you?” Ronnie asks, her tone is different from the past times you've been in. It's higher and has a lilt in it that you'd expect from a teasing friend. But Ronnie isn't a friend and has never spoken to you like this, you hate it. You nod to politely move on with the process, between the crawling of your skin and the buzzing underneath it you feel sick. And you're now very aware of the existence of your eyelids, you try to focus on ignoring that awareness. You need to move.
“Hmm, that's good. Anyway this is Tim! He's just started so go easy on him.” you hear the sound of a hand hitting fabric and assume she's patted Tim's shoulder as she introduced Tim to you. Why was she doing this, what purpose could introducing you two have? You nod again, was anyone going to ring you out?
“Hi, this all?” a deep voice asked, it isn't extremely deep more of a standard baritone that has a slight raspy quality, probably a reformed smoker. You don't smell cigarettes currently so he could've quit after years. Unfortunately despite your efforts to stave them off your blinking tics emerge. Making it difficult to keep your eyes open for longer than a nano second.
Startled and ticcing you look up and catch his eyes, you see pity in them, before casting your glance back to the counter. You can never tell what's worse people seeing you as weird or seeing you as something needing to be fixed. Nodding again, Tim tells you the total; a dollar fifty eight, and you hand him two dollars from your wallet.
Tim doesn't ask if you want the receipt or a bag, he prints out the receipt and hands you your change. The change goes immediately into the cat food fund for Magnolia. She got diagnosed with diabetes about a month ago and having worked in shelters and pet stores you know just how expensive her prescription food is. After folding the receipt into your wallet, Tim gently slides the water bottle over to you.
“Have a good night.” he says it so low and gentle, as if he thinks you'll shatter in front of him. As kind as the gesture seems, you aren't that fragile...or maybe you are if you have to keep repeating 'mask' over and over in your head to ground yourself. With a final nod you turn and make your way to the door, and just as you open it you hear Ronnie call out.
“Awwww, c'mon YN at least say 'Hi' to Tim.” You really don't like how she squeaked out 'hi'.
Taking a deep breath you prepare yourself, you'll show them both you can do this simple task. Even if you can't stop blinking long enough to see straight. Once you've steadied yourself you turn and look at Tim. He's sending you a look that says 'You don't have to' all that's missing is a slow head shake to complete his unease with this “peer pressure”.
But you can do this you can say 'Hi, Tim.' Two words super simple, nothing complex like 'Hi, Tim, nice to meet you.' and so much better than the option of your next meeting saying 'Hi, Tim. Sorry for spazzing out the other night.'. Yup you can do this just breathe, you open your mouth and...and you've forgotten what to say. Looking like a deer in headlights, well at least the tics stopped, you say the first thing that pops in.
“Mask.” You've said it loud and clear both cashiers heard you.
Tim stares with wide eyes and you see Ronnie failing to hide her laughter. Out of all the ways this could've gone this was probably the best outcome for her. The blinking has started up again, this time growing more frequent. You can't even hold your eyes open, to the two cashiers it must look like you're in pain or crying. And while you want to die of embarrassment, crying is a bit of an extreme for you.
So with red face and the inability to see you leave through the door, and try to make your way back to your car. Once in you lock the doors, switch the car on, and rest your head on the steering wheel. Out of every way this stop could've gone, being perceived by a new comer and Ronnie was not what you expected. While this hadn't been the worst five minutes or so of your life, it definitely would be another thing keeping you up at night for the next twenty years.
Calming down in the cool quiet dark of your car your slowly brought back to the world by the beginning of a new episode. This one talking about the Tailypo legend. A favorite story of yours from when you were a kid living on the coast of Virginia. So with yet another deep breath and the wave of nostalgia, you pull out of the parking lot and slowly coast down the old dirt road. Heading yet again for the Monongahela forest.
It's nearly two in the morning when you roll up to see an RV parked by the forgotten entrance of the park. It isn't surprising at all to find an RV out here since the Monongahela Forest is one of the most beautiful parks you've ever been to. You also don't think anything of them being parked by this unused entrance because you use it all the time since finding it accidentally. Figuring they just wanted to camp and be left to their own devices rather than use the RV sites and be bothered with other campers here for the summer.
Climbing out of your car you notice the RV isn't new by any means but it isn't a total rust bucket either, looks like it's been passed around throughout the years. There isn't anything to suggest it's been here a while, nothing left set up outside, must have just gotten into town then. You do happen to notice dog tracks around the sandy dirt you've parked in, good to know they have a dog before you slammed your car door. Closing the door gently behind you so you don't startle a pup and wake up it's owner or owners, you make your way through the woods. No real direction in mind, with no real thought in your head. Just the thought of moving and to keep on moving.
You could walk the same path every time you came through and always find something different. In fact that's exactly what happens, you're almost positive that you've deepened the imprint of the path just from walking through several times a week. Following the same winding path you usually do, climbing over the fallen tree, and through a scattering of blueberry thicket's you find yourself on the edge of one of the forest's many streams. It's your favorite spot in the forest so far, and about as far as you've gotten considering these hikes of yours take place during the dead of night.
The wind picks up and sends a chill through you, taking that as a sign you slide down to sit by the stream. Vans placed to your side as you sink your feet into the cool water. It's peaceful out here, so cool, and quiet, save for the slight noises the stream makes, various bubbling and drips. You try to think on things like your recent move, your job, the embarrassing 'mask' incident, just life in general. But you can't seem to form a single thought, this happens a lot, you've recently been conscious of the fact that you've been running on auto pilot for the past two months, hell a lot longer than that. You think everyone must get like this from time to time, but you think you've always been this way. Keen to dissociating and slipping in and out of existence.
It's quite nice really, except for the times like right now where you'd love to figure out why the silence in your head is so painfully loud. The more you think on it the louder it gets and the stronger the buzzing under your skin feels. And right now the static in your mind has been getting louder and louder for the past few minutes. You feel your head jerk to the right of it's own accord, moving back in place it happens for a second time, and then a third, then jerks up, before jerking a forth time to the right effectively cracking you neck.
“There we go.” you mumble, you can relax a bit as the verbal tic indicates the end of this round of tics.
Sighing you look at the sky...that can't be right. The sky has been painted it's fresh baby blues for the day, but again that can't be right. You just got to the stream, that path is a thirty minute walk meaning it should be just about two thirty in the morning, but the sky suggests it's five or six at the latest. Reaching for your water bottle you find it empty next to you. You didn't fall asleep you know that much, perhaps you did dissociate tonight. Well this hike was disappointing if you knew you were going to dissociate you'd have saved yourself that embarrassment and stayed home. Maybe done some painting or tidied up.
Sighing you push yourself off the ground, collecting you vans you're about to put them on when you notice a figure off in the distance. You freeze out of shock and stare at the figure, it stares back. The figure is about ten yards away, god your near sighted ass should really remember to not leave your glasses in the car when hiking. The figure starts to make it's way to you and after a few steps you realize it hasn't moved from it's spot. Rolling your eyes you ignore the hallucination.
You'd really needed to get sleep last night, today is day six of no sleep and though you haven't had many episodes these past few days, you have a feeling they'll start to get more prominent today. Hopefully tonight you can manage to get some rest, the longer you go without sleep the more realistic the hallucinations become. But for today you're content with the knowledge that it's just shadow like beings that you'll be seeing.
After putting on your shoes you start the thirty minute hike back to your car. You're thankful for the weather in Kepler, nothing like back on the coast. Here you can go for a morning hike through the forest while a gentle breeze passes by and the sun starts to give the area a pleasant warmth. Back on the coast you couldn't run and grab the mail without getting drenched in moisture from either sweat, humidity, or a mixture of both.  The coast sucks, hell Virginia sucks altogether, you're glad to be in Kepler.
“I want to go home, home.” you say out of nowhere.
Before you reach the entrance you hear barking, oh the RV campers must be up. Should you be careful not to scare them, or just walk normally and say 'Good morning' in passing, maybe just nod your head in greeting. Oh and you've stopped just beside the entrance as you got lost in your rambling. You didn't mean to come to a stop here, and as you try to move you notice how silent it's gotten. Did the dog go inside, maybe they've already passed...no it's too quiet for that. No the silence is oppressive like the one you deal with nightly, there's a reason for the silence. The situation's making you feel uneasy, but that could be the sleep deprivation talking.
You're about to brush it off and move when you hear a whispered, “Seriously man, I don't think anyone's out there. Let's get inside.”
There's a noise of agreement before you hear shuffling. Oh no, you zoned out and now you look like a weirdo stalker. Just perfect, maybe if you wait around a little more you'll seem more normal or at least feel normal. Not knowing how long to wait you walk along the tree line for a bit, looking at the ground as you do making sure you won't step on any snakes. In you quest to not step on any snakes you spot something suspiciously off white. It seems purposefully buried under a dead blueberry bush and some fallen branches.
Having listened to too many true crime shows, you know better than to implicate yourself in a murder. Grabbing a stick off the ground you gently brush the foliage away from the supposed corpse. No way, you can't believe your luck, it's an actual fucking skull. An intact skull of a deer! That is so cool, you've only seen taxidermists on TikTok getting so lucky and finding these dudes. Since the jaw bone is connected by tissue it of course isn't with the skull but maybe it's close by? Clearly this got planted or hidden by someone, maybe they were planning on pranking a friend by 'uncovering' a skull later. Oh well, finders keepers and all that, you have way better plans for this guy, hopefully you can find that jaw bone.
You set off searching through the foliage and near by bushes with the branch while holding the skull in your other arm. After searching about three feet around and finding no more bones you decide that this is the only part of the deer's skeleton in this area. A little disappointed but still thrilled with your find, you decide it must be a good time to go back to your car.
Surely you won't look weird now. You a little forager with their treasure in hand. Looks like you'll be busy cleaning, then bleaching, and cleaning these bones today. Is that the order to treat found bones? You aren't sure but you can look into that later. Placing the skull in the trunk so it doesn't roll about and get damaged you make sure it's secure before closing the trunk and getting into your car and locking the doors.
Not once did you notice the pairs of eyes that had been watching you. One watching as you found the deer skull, and the other set seeing you place bones into your car. They kept watching as you fiddled with the radio while the car was starting up. They watched as you pulled out of the sandy dirt lot and drove back down the old road a little faster than before now that you could clearly see.
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mellomanjiro · 3 years
Text
Bittersweet / Mello x Reader
Growing up in Wammy's House you were best friends with Mello and Matt. The two of you were inseparable, doing everything together. Eventually you started to develop feelings for Mello and just as when you thought now is the time to tell him the most horrible thing you can think of happened.
Years later you unexpectedly see a boy from your past you both wanted and never wanted to see again....
Note:
Hi, I just wanted to say that this is my first time writing a fan fic so it's obviously not gonna be the best lol. Also this may not be completely accurate to Death Note's storyline. I don't own these characters or anything related to Death Note, i'm just simply writing this because I am extremely bored. This fic can be found on Wattpad as well :)
(also this fic is poorly edited)
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Chapter 1
“WAKE UP!!!" I hear being yelled.
Another voice says "Yeah, wake up y/n!!!". I know these voices too well, they're from my two best friends in the entire world, Mello and Matt.
Both continue to shake me thinking their screams weren't enough to wake me. I grab my pillow and hit them both. I check the time and see it's 7am.
"Why are you waking me up so early!" I yell back at both boys. "We've got something to show you" says the blonde boy excitedly. I quickly get up and change out of my pjs and run with the boys into their room.
"Well, what do you want to show me?" I say. They both start laughing at me. "What!?" I shout at both. "Nothing" replies Mello while laughing.
"We know how much you love waking up early, so we just wanted to bug you" says Matt giggling. There's very few things I hate in this world and waking up early is one of them. These boys are gonna pay for what they've done.
"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!!!" I say starting to chase them out of their room. I chase them all over the orphanage. "It's a Saturday, you know how much I love sleeping in" I shout while still chasing them. "We're so sorry y/n" they both reply. But I still continue to chase them until I bump into someone.
"Ouch" I hear a quiet, monotone voice say. I look down and see who I accidentally bumped into, it was Near. I reach out my hand to help him up and he takes it.
Near is just two years younger than us and he may be the smallest but he is the smartest one here, first in line to be L's Successor and just in second place is Mello.
As I help him up I keep apologizing to the white haired boy. "It's okay y/n, I know it was just an accident" he tells me. It's true it was an accident but I do feel bad. "Do you wanna play with my new puzzle with me y/n?" Near asks. Near doesn't have many friends, well actually he doesn't have any at all besides me.
Before I can reply Mello interrupts "What do you want loser?". "Hey, be nice Mello" I reply.
Mello always picks on Near, he's jealous of him always being first place and Mello is always second no matter how hard he tries. Near doesn't seem to care for Mello's rudeness towards him, he knows he doesn't truly mean it, it's the jealousy speaking. Near always only has nice things to say about Mello.
"Why should I be nice to him?" Mello says. I reply "Because he's always nice to you". "Ugh, whatever. Let's go y/n" says Mello.
Before I go I tell Near sorry once again and that we can play puzzles another time.
"Hey Matt, what should we do now?" asks Mello. "Umm, why don't we go back to the room and play some mario kart?" Matt always suggests that but we love playing it so we head back to the boys room.
We sit on the lower bed on the bunk bed (Matt's bed, as if Mello would ever sleep on the bottom bunk. Matt doesn't care where he sleeps as long as it's comfortable). Matt turns on the tv and we each get a controller. And just like every time Matt always wins. While sometimes I get second place and sometimes Mello does but one thing that never changes is Matt being first.
"No fair! How do you always win?!" Mello shouts at Matt. "Practice" he replies. We all laugh.
Mello pulls out a chocolate bar and offers some to me and Matt. Mello doesn't share with anyone except us. We both accept.
"So, now what? I'm bored. You idiots woke me up so early and now there's nothing to do and it's only 8:45am" I say.
"Well we can plan for tomorrow" Mello replies to me.
Oh right, tomorrow is October 27th, my 13th birthday, how could I forget?
"I totally forgot that was tomorrow" I tell them.
"Well we didn't" says Mello. "Yeah, we didn't cuz we're good friends" says Matt laughing.
We all laugh.
"I really don't want anything, please don't do anything special" I tell them.
"We have to, you have no choice. And don't worry we'll have coke for you" says Matt.
My weakness, they know me too well. Matt has video games, Mello has chocolate and I have coke. And it has to be coke, not pepsi. They are not the same.
"Well I wouldn't mind a can right now" I say to them. They laugh at me. "Not until tomorrow" Mello tells me, "other wise it's not special".
I give them a small frown and Matt hits me with a pillow. "Hey!" I say while hitting him back. He doesn't hit back, there's one thing these boys won't do is fight back because that's one fight they know they're not winning. "Anyways, how's training going?" Mello asks me.
At Wammy's House it isn't like your average orphanage. Here is where only gifted kids stay and they don't teach you normal things either. Near is the smartest with Mello just behind and those two are L's successors. L is the best detective in the entire world and my friends are gonna be next. I couldn't be more proud. I'm the third smartest here but I'm not a successor. I am still training to be a detective but more of a spy. That's why I go to train, I learn how to basically be a physical weapon and I also never miss when I shoot.
"Training wasn't too bad yesterday, just review from last week" I reply. "I think you should teach Mello how to to punch. He sucks at it" Matt says while laughing. I laugh too. "Not funny, Matt" Mello says while rolling his eyes, "I just don't punch you for real". "Hey it was just a joke" says Matt. "You two are so stupid" I laugh.
We fool around in their room some more until lunch time. "Race you to the cafeteria" Mello says as he takes off. Matt and I just roll our eyes and walk over to the cafeteria.
to be continued....
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