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johnwickb1tsch · 5 months

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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 2 <<Part 1

-You are sitting on a bench in the lakeside park, reading a book and enjoying the bright winter sunshine when a cold nose presses into your hand. You look up to find a blue pitbull nuzzling you for pets. “Oh hi there, baby,” you coo, scratching his broad head without a thought. You follow the leash to the owner, and are very surprised to see Mr. Wick standing there, looking endearingly embarrassed about it all. “Sorry,” he says. “He pulled me over here.” He gives the dog a look as it leans against you, getting side scritches with a blissed-out doggo look. You have a notion that Mr. Wick might be jealous, somehow, but you push it away.

“That’s ok. What a good boy. What’s his name?”

“Um…Dog.”

You smirk up at him. “Original.”

He sighs, looking at you through his hair, and it pulls at your heartstrings for some reason. You pat the bench beside you, and he accepts, though he sits as far away as he can. “He likes you,” he says, looking ruefully down at the dog. “Do you have pets?”

“No,” you admit. “I travel too much.”

“Yeah?”

You can tell he’s surprised to hear this. Most people are. But you live frugally on your barista’s salary so you can go abroad for a month or so. You’re a budget traveler for sure, but you’ve been all over the world.

“Yes. I’m going to Italy this summer.”

“Sounds nice.”

“You’ve been?”

“Several times. For work.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m retired.” He doesn’t elaborate, and you leave it for now. You don’t really talk anymore, just look at the lake, and pet his dog who leans all his solid weight against your leg. You are content in the companionable silence.

You think he is too.

- It’s interesting sometimes, watching the interpersonal pageants of the regulars. When thrice divorced Victoria Fraser-Sims lays eyes on Mr. Wick for the first time in what you have come to consider his corner, she starts coming in for a lot more no-fat double-shot sugar-free vanilla lattés. All the locals are quite…aware…of Vicky’s predatory habits. A part of you wonders if you should warn Mr. Wick, but you reckon a single man who looks like him is quite used to fending off hungry cougars.

She starts by sitting near his table in her tight workout clothes, ostensibly bending over to pick up repeatedly dropped objects, affording various views of her generous cleavage and spin-class toned rear end. You know you have no right to feel so pleased that Mr. Wick seems to ignore her.

But then she ups her game, so bold as to sit down at his table with him to chat. He talks to her politely. One day, she actually succeeds in making him laugh. You hear it, loosed like an arrow that strikes you from across the room.

You have zero right to be jealous, of course, but you can’t help it. You and Mr. Wick have a thing.

Maybe just in your own head, but still.

But maybe they would be a good couple, you reason sadly, making yourself think realistically. Closer to the same age. And he does seem so lonely.

A few days later they come in the door together, seeming content, and your heart plummets to your feet. Holy shit, she actually pulled it off. They’re dating, you’re perfectly convinced.

In that moment you decide to back off. Mr. Wick is at least twenty years your elder. What the fuck would he want with an awkward little gremlin like you? It’s amazing sometimes, how well you can delude yourself. A curse of having a vivid imagination, perhaps. He’s just polite, and you are kind to him, because he seems a little broken. You resolve to behave. No more quips. No more teasing. From this day forward it shall be only, Here’s your coffee, yes sir, have a good day.

You’ve never been terribly good at keeping resolutions, but you’re going to try.

-Your determination to leave Mr. Wick alone is timed conveniently with a new hire who is around your age. He is and cute, and you get on immediately. Your flirting is fairly harmless, though you know the shop is filled with loud laughter from the two of you when your shifts coincide. Sometimes you feel Mr. Wick looking over at you after you’ve had a good chortle, and you sense he is annoyed.

Once, you catch him glaring at Brian’s back like he might like to carve the boy’s liver.

You try to quiet down, but it never really lasts. It’s been a while, since you’ve met someone who you click with so well. A comrade makes working in the service industry slightly more endurable, after all.

-One day, you burn yourself on the steamer wand while Mr. Wick is waiting for his order. Maybe it’s the volume of the unladylike expletive that spills from your lips, but he does not hesitate to come around the counter to check on you. It hurts like a motherfucker, and while you blink back tears you are quick to dig out ice to put on it. He even more quickly bats it into the sink, flipping the faucet on. “Cold water is better.”

Before you know it he is guiding your wrist into the stream with a gentle but exacting grip. “Hold that there,” he instructs. You can’t fathom disobeying him.

Brian stares rather dumbfoundedly at the customer behind the counter. “Um…sir? You can’t be back here.”

“Then get her the first aid kit instead of standing there looking useless,” he snaps, and the young man jumps into action, scurrying away.

John gives a low whistle once you’ve finished with the cold water, blotting you dry at the butt end of the counter. “You got yourself good.”

“It’s not the first time,” you sigh. You’re not particularly clumsy, but it happens when you’re juggling five things at once to keep the drink orders moving.

John bandages the burn for you, frowning at the salve provided in the first aid kit that expired years ago, but deciding it will do in a pinch. His long-fingered hands are precise, but gentle, and as he touches you, you feel your brain turn to mush. You can’t remember the last time someone took care of you like this.

Maybe he’s not mad at you after all.

Later that day you appear from the back, to find a little paper pharmacy bag on the counter with your name written in concise black print. Inside there is more ointment, large Band-aids, and a little Snickers chocolate bar.

How did he know it’s your favorite?

Even though you didn’t see him come or go, you know it was Mr. Wick, and this small gesture touches you to tips of your toes.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves #yandere john wick #yandere #bittersweet john wick imagine #john wick fic #john wick imagine

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arlh0e · 4 months

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Moving on in time

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Hozier x gn! Reader, angst, post-break up, youre in his band, touring with Hozier, public embarassment, emotions on high, mutual frustration, miscommunication, tension you could cut with a knife

Summary: Its been months since the break up, you had been with andrew for years, but with the touring and your busy schedules, you decided it was best for the two of you to go your seperate ways. At the time, you hadn’t thought about the fact that when he decided it was time to record and release a new album, you would be back on tour with him, helping him perform music that he had written about your break up.

You had been avoiding andrew like the plague offstage for months. You were well into the unreal unearth tour, and though you enjoyed his music, and you loved playing with him and the band, you really hadn’t realized how emotionally taxing this would be.

Playing bass in the band meant you stood up toward the front of the stage next to him. And you had made a point to pretend that everything was fine and cool while you were performing, but truth be told, there was no possible way that the two of you could ever have anything even resembling a friendship ever again.

It broke your heart all over again if you were being honest. You hated not speaking to him, but you hated having to act like you were still best friends even more.

Tonights show was particularly hard on you. You were all sleep deprived, and Andrew had gotten particularly frustrated during sound check, so even though the show had been running smoothly, tensions were on high and you were doing everything in your power not to show it.

You were doing your best to calm down, but listening to music he had written about how angry he was with you and how your whole relationship was nothing but toxic (First Time was by far your least favorite, it painted a completely inaccurate portrayal of how you treated him.) it wasn’t exactly what you’d call an easy feat.

The biggest problem came during Francesca. He always glanced over to you periodically, it was something that he did to everyone, to make sure everyone was doing okay, but for whatever reason, during francesca, he took it upon himself to all but stare you down for the majority of the song.

It was subtle at first, barely noticeable, just sideways glances, but by the time the second chorus came around, he was turned in your direction staring at you as he sang.

Jesus fucking christ.

This man really had the audacity to spend hours shit talking on you and then sing the only kind words he had to say directly to you.

Whatever happened to keeping his private life a secret? Whatever happened to “there’s no muse”?

He was staring a hole into you, all but calling you out publicly in front of an audience of god knows how many people. You had known he wasn’t perfect, everyone was capable of mistakes, but this isn’t something you’d ever expect from him.

This was cruel.

And the worst part about it? He actually looked genuine. He was looking at you, pleading, all but begging silently. Of course, you knew it was all an act, likely something he had planned to grab the attention of his fans and get people talking, but it still hurt.

You knew that you were still in love with him, and realistically, you had thought until the album release, that he had felt the same, and as much as you hated the idea, you had thought that reconciliation might be possible.

Seeing him look at you like that, like he was still in love with you, like he actually meant a word of what he was saying made you want to cry. You were stunned.

You honestly half decided then and there that you would quit at the earliest opportunity. You loved touring with him and you loved music being your full time job, but this was too much. He couldn’t do this to you.

You held eye contact with him, willing yourself not to be the first to look away, refusing to let him win.

You did your best to stabilize the lump in your throat as you stepped toward the mic, still looking at him as you sang his lyrics with him.

“Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I.”

It was a phrase he used to say to you, something he had told you toward the beginning of your relationship, when you were still in the process of healing from the religious bull shit your parents had instilled into you, and you went through a short lived patch of worrying that if there was a hell, you’d be going there because you had slept with Andrew so soon.

He had comforted you by telling you that if there were a heaven, the walls weren’t strong enough to hold two people who were so in love with one another and that you’d both be sent to hell for loving more absolutely and unconditionally than god himself.

It was a sweet sentiment, and something he knew only you would get, nevertheless fan went crazy over the lyrics that were meant to comfort you but that he had twisted into something that only brought you pain now.

You knew what he was doing when he wrote it and that was what felt the worst. He had turned what you had once considered your greatest comfort and the most heart wrenchingly beautiful thing anyone had ever said to you into your single least favorite sentence in the entire english language.

As the song came to a close, you maintained eye contact with him for a concerning amount of time, as the crowd erupted into applause.

Finally, he turned away from you, looking back to the audience and thanking them for coming before ushering the band forward for a bow.

You walked forward, took Andrews hand briefly and bowed, staying there just long enough for the lights to come down and then you all but ran backstage.

The tears were flowing freely by that point, not wanting anyone to see you, you rushed to the nearest bathroom, locked the door and cried.

You knew he wasn’t fond of you anymore, but this was a new kind of distaste. Cruelty like that bordered on hatred, a sentiment which, until now you didn’t think he was even capable of. If you had known that this was what would come of the decision to break up, you wouldn’t have done it. Hell, if you had known, you would’ve opted to just stay friends.

You debated how you would go about quitting. After that stunt, you knew that this was no longer good for you, regardless of how much you loved touring and regardless of how much you loved him. You needed to leave and to never speak to him again. Distance was the only way you’d ever get over him.

Once you had calmed yourself down, you opened the door, and headed down the hallway to Andrew’s dressing room and knocked on the door. After a few deep breaths, you were ready to face him.

The door opened just a crack, before opening fully. “Ehm… Hey?” He looked genuinely confused. Sounded it too, though his whole body did visibly relax when he saw it was you.

“Hey.” You took one more deep breath before continuing. “I just wanted to let you know, I think it’s time to find a new bassist. I will not be touring you any longer after the break in December.” Your voice broke a little bit toward the end. You were angry with yourself for showing how upset you were. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had gotten a reaction out of you.

His face fell. “What? Why? If it’s about us not talking, I swear I’m not ignoring you, I just-” you cut him off mid-sentence.

“No. Andrew it’s about everything.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. “I can handle standing next to you while you play music about how much you hate me for breaking up with you. Thats fair. It’s deserved even. But what I can’t stand is that. What you just did on that stage was nothing short of cruel.”

He let out a sigh, looking down at his feet. “I didn’t-” he cut himself off, running his hands over his face. “I didn’t meanwhile it like that I just-“

“Then how did you mean it Andrew? Because what it looked like to me was you talking shit to thousands of people and then acting like you still want me because you knew it was going to hurt.” I was all but yelling at him by now. I was positive that a few stage hands were overhearing this, but I didn’t even care. For all I cared, the whole world could know about how awful he was being.

“Can you please just come in? Can we talk about it? Please?” He looked completely genuine. I couldn’t tell if he was just stressed about losing an original member of the band, or if he actually cared that he had hurt me, either way, he wasn’t going to change my mind.

“Fine. 10 minutes, but don’t expect to change anything. Im quitting. You’re not changing that.” I said sternly, moving past him to sit on the small couch in the corner of the room. With a sigh, he closed the door, and let out a sigh.

“You wanted to talk. So talk.” I cross my legs on the couch, looking down at my hands, refusing to look at him.

“Look, I’ve been wanting to explain the album to you for a while.” He walked across the small room, placing himself on the opposite side of the couch from you. “When we broke up, I was hurt and I was angry, and I channeled that into my writing.

That doesn’t excuse any of it, and you’re well within your rights to be upset with me, thats more than fair.” He let out a sigh, looking at his hands, you could tell he was shaking. You wondered if this was as stressful for him as it was for you. If he was upset, you knew it wasn’t for the right reasons of course.

“I just don’t want you to think that I don’t still care about you. I was devastated, hell, I still am but I don’t want you thinking I hate you or something. I wasn’t doing anything to hurt you, I use my writing as an outlet and I needed a way to turn this into something I was proud of.”

I looked up to meet his eyes. They held nothing but truth. It was one of the great things about knowing him so well, I could read him like a book. If he was lying to save his own ass, I’d know.

“And I already said that I understand that.” You took a few breaths, trying to calm yourself and failing miserably. Your tears broke free and you sniffled as you wiped your face. “What I don’t understand is why you took something you used to say to me for my comfort, threw it into a song about me and then stared me down onstage while you sang those words and looked at me like you’re still in love with me, knowing damn well that I’m not over you.” The words left my mouth before I could even process what was happening.

My hand shot up to my mouth. Way to go. Just show the man all your cards. Throw away any advantage you had in the conversation. Great job.

His eyes lit up a bit. For the first time in months, it looked like he had hope. It pulled at your heart a bit, seeing him react that way even though you knew it wasn’t out of any remaining love he held for you. He was just glad you didn’t hate him probably.

“Okay, A.) I didn’t know that, and had I known, we would’ve had this conversation way earlier and B.) I wrote Francesca as a last ditch effort to get you back. I put that in there because it’s the truth.” He sighed again, this time a bit more hopeful, but still frustrated and sad. “I wasn’t planning on singing it to you. It just kind of happened. I didn’t think, I am sorry for that. And Im even more sorry for not explaining myself earlier.” His hand moves to his hair, running his fingers through his curls. It was something he did when he was thinking really hard about something.

“I get that.” You sighed in response. “I still think it’s best that I leave though. As far as I can tell, it’s better for both of us if we just cut contact.” You were still crying, bordering on sobbing. You pull your knees into your chest and curl your arms around yourself. It was a hard enough decision to make, but putting the thought into action was so much harder.

“Please don’t say that.” He sat up, moving slightly closer to you, he was pleading with his eyes, he looked desperate. You could even see the beginnings of a few tears filling his eyes. “Look, I know I’ve said a lot of shit that really hurt you, I can’t take that back, but please at least give me the chance to try and fix it.” The first of his tears spilled over and his voice cracked.

“Andrew, before all of this, I would have said yes, hell I would have even said we could try being together again, but at this point, I don’t know if I’ll ever go a day without questioning if you actually care about me. Thats not something that can be fixed.” I pull away from him, turning and putting my feet on the ground.

“Baby, please just let me try. And if you still want to leave by December, then I won’t stop you, but I’ve been dying seeing you every day and not talking to you.” He moves next to me and takes one of my hands in both of his. “Please. Just can we try?”

You sigh, looking down at your hand in his. He was so warm, his touch just as inviting as you remembered, he was close enough that you could smell him, he still wore the same cologne you had picked out for him years ago. It was woodsy and sort of musky, and the way it mixed with his natural scent drove you absolutely nuts.

With another sigh, you lean your head onto his shoulder. “I kinda hate you a little bit.” You huff, frustrated. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wan’t to work things out between the two of you. You wanted nothing more than to take everything back and go back to being together.

He chuckled a little bit, leaning his head to rest against the top of yours. “Thats okay.” You can feel him smile against your hair, placing a kiss on the top of your forehead. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You move yourself closer to him, pulling your legs into his lap. “I really do miss you.” Your voice is muffled by his chest. “As stupid as it sounds I’ve thought about just coming back probably a million times.”

His hand is in your hair, moving across your scalp, soothingly. It was nice. “It’s not stupid. I’ve come so close to cornering and begging you to take me back on a handful of occasions.”

You laugh a little bit. “Just don’t write any more mean songs about me okay?” You look up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time since the start of this conversation.

He leans down and places his lips against yours for a fleeting second. “I promise, love.”

I tell you what, when an Idea strikes, I be writing so fast, I did that in like 3 hours.

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httpskuzuu · 9 months

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Softer

hola :D fyodor is alive - fyodor esta vivo I was thinking about making a masterlist or something like that, I don't know if when I upload this I will have it published or how I will do it

anyway, I really liked this and enjoyed writing it, it's longer than I usually post but Idk, by the way, I hated translating this, it was a pain in the ass, but that's what I get for joining a mostly English community ññññññññññññ-- well, this is mostly inspired by Sinner by TheBloodySadist, you can find it in Ao3 if you want to read it, I had an obsession with it a few months xd

jaja this has gone on too long, well, adiós adiós :p

Yandere!Fyodor x Reader

English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes

sumary: You tried to escape and now you have to take the consequences, but you make something change in Fyodor... (juju, mistery >:p) Pt.2

tw: yandere behavior, kidnapping, failed escape attempt, explicit punishment, explicit violence, blood, broken bones, humiliation¿, manipulation, brainwashing, stockholm syndrome, reader needs therapy, stabbing, nudity, sedative, Fyodor is a fucking tw

You tremble under the weight of the boot on your ribs, you swear that at some point you hear them cracking along with an agonizing pain throughout your body.

The pressure on your body makes it impossible for you to breathe properly, which is a serious problem considering you are hyperventilating. Every breath burns your exhausted lungs and aggravates the pain.

You'd ask Fyodor to kill you already if it weren't for the fact that your throat is in a terrible condition from so much screaming and pleading.

"Well, I see I can't trust you, can I?" Despite the situation, Fyodor's tone provokes you inner anger, sounding so sarcastic. Something deep inside you tells you it's not sarcasm, it's concern, but you can't believe it, especially not coming from Fyodor.

You imagine that, if you had the strength at this moment, you would kill him with your own hands. You know well you wouldn't be able to, but it's pleasant to think about it.

"I do everything for you, and still you try to escape." He puts more pressure against your ribs and you've never felt as much pain as you do now. "You spoiled brat." He growls and his Russian accent becomes much thicker.

He removes his foot from your body and you can breathe. Relief courses through your veins and, out of pure instinct, you thank him for that act of kindness. He could have stretched it out longer, put more pressure on you and broken your ribs more, but he was merciful and gave you a break…. A break, you know that your punishment is not yet over.

You don't know yourself and your thoughts. One thing you have to hand it to Fyodor is that his training is really effective, but you're tougher than that, or at least you like to think so. Realistically, right now, you just want to curl up against him.

A kick in the side snaps you out of your thoughts, you moan and cry from the pain, your throat burning with fire. You never want to utter a sound again in your life after this.

"Aw, you poor thing… Does it hurt? Now you know how I feel every time you leave me." He's lying, you know that, but that doesn't take away the guilt that settles in your head free-form.

You shouldn't have run away, Fyodor isn't even that bad if you behaved: no gratuitous physical harm and he takes better care of you than you could ask of a kidnapper. You were an idiot, you deserved all this for not appreciating your life with Fyodor properly. God… Why did you try to escape in the first place? The Russian would always would catch you, you were just causing trouble.

Ignoring your destroyed throat, you decide to speak. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't try to escape again. Please give me another chance, I'll be good…"

Fyodor kneels down next to your agonized body. He puts his hand against your tear-stained cheek, at first you flinch, thinking he was going to hurt you more, but then you lean almost automatically against his cold hand.

You cry harder as you feel Fyodor's gentle touch, you don't quite understand what's wrong with you, you just know that you want to melt against his hand. You close your eyes and tremble. You want a hug from him, you know you shouldn't want that, that it's disgusting, he kidnapped you and hurt you, but at a time like this, when you've been disobedient, he's still showing you affection….

"Shh, it's okay, милый." He catches the falling tears with his thumb. "I know you're sorry, but your punishment isn't over yet." You automatically tense up and slowly open your eyes to look at the man in front of you, there is a smirk of superiority painted on his face, observing your pathetic appearance.

You don't dare open your mouth to complain because deep down you know very well that you deserve it, you deserve the pain for being so bratty and causing inconvenience to Fyodor. You accept what lies ahead of you and let Fyodor pull his hand away from you.

With his grip firmly on your hip, he guides you to turn around. You keep the cheek that was previously receiving the loving touch against the ground a thousand times colder than Fyodor.

You concentrate exclusively on the Russian's hands, it's just an idiotic attempt to ignore the pain all over your body. He pulls up your shirt, leaving your back bare against the cold, why is everything so cold all of a sudden? Fyodor is too, in a way he brings you peace of mind, it's like he's everywhere, even in the air…. What the hell are you thinking? You firmly believe you're delusional at this point, these are not your real thoughts, it's clear to you, he put all these idiotic ideas in your head and now you can't get them out. It's agonizing in a certain way.

The only thing you hear is your irregular breathing, if it wasn't for Fyodor's hand clamped on your hip, you would think you were alone right now, and you don't know if you would like that more or less.

Something sharpening presses against your upper back. Everything breaks down in a moment as Fyodor makes a straight cut across your entire back. It hurts horrendously, especially as the blood starts to spurt out. You start to feel dizzy and for a few moments you convince yourself you're going to pass out, but no, your body is still holding on, focused solely on Fyodor's hand.

"Breathe, моя любовь. It's just a cut." You repeat Fyodor's last sentence in your head like a mantra: it's just a cut, it's just a cut. He could have done it much worse to you, you were fine, just a cut.

You take comfort in closing your eyes hard and imagining that you are once again a child at the doctor's office, that you are simply having blood drawn for a blood test because you have not been feeling very well lately. You make a fist with your hand and clench it, digging your fingernails deep into your palm, it's as if you are clutching the hand of one of your parents for comfort. There is no more pain, it's okay, it's all right-

Another cut, this time horizontal, creates a cross on your back. You don't care, you're at the hospital, and you're safe, nothing will happen to you. It's just a cut.

Fyodor stabs the weapon into your side. You open your eyes wide as a torn scream comes out of your mouth.

Fuck it all, do you really deserve this? Have you been so horrible? You assume that Fyodor simply hates you, that he wants to torture you.

Fyodor pulls the weapon out of your body, you look out of the corner of your eye and the wound doesn't seem to be that bad, you thought it was deeper because of the pain, but no, it was something apparently superficial. You didn't want to know how much it would hurt if he had really stabbed you deeper.

Fyodor's voice right next to your ear startles you. "Sorry, was that too much? Did I hurt my little one too much?" That mocking tone again, but you hear a hint of love and concern, or so you assume. No, it's impossible for Fyodor to hate you, if he hated you there wasn't that hint of love, was there? If he hated you, he wouldn't say to you like that: my little one, his little one.

"I can't take it anymore! Please, Fyodor!" He leaves a chaste kiss on the back of your neck, and you cry disconsolately, you don't know why, but you do know it's not because of the pain, the pain doesn't matter anymore.

"You can." Fyodor's voice is the ultimate authority right now, and if he says you can take it, it's because you can. "You don't want to disappoint me, do you?"

After those words you instantly panic, you desperately shake your head, of course you don't want to disappoint him! You have to accept your punishment, it was your fault in the first place.

"Brace yourself, dear." Fyodor leaves a trail of kisses from the nape of your neck all the way down your back, above the vertical cut. You assume he's filled his lips with blood and hate yourself at the thought of how attractive he'd look like that.

A new cut interrupts your hatred. You scream, but nothing more, you can take it, for Fyodor….

It's just one cut.

You don't know how many cuts there are next, you are not able to count them. You don't feel your throat anymore, but miraculously it still works, your screams are still coming out of it, you are relieved because you still want to keep your voice to talk to Fyodor, to ask him to hold you.

Fyodor removes your shirt completely and lays it aside on the floor. He holds you firmly and helps you sit up, any movement is hell for your ribs, but you endure it by concentrating on your kidnapper, on his loving but steadfast touch.

You look at him dizzy, teary-eyed and shattered. He is smiling, you have not disappointed him. Your head hurts as you cry disconsolately against his chest again.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying now? Your punishment is over, I won't hurt you anymore."

"You…" You're unable to speak, it's too much at once, the pain and your thoughts coming together in a ball of discomfort. You shake your head and hug him tightly.

"Are you afraid?" You weakly shake your head. It's true that Fyodor scares you, especially on these occasions when he punishes you, but you're not crying about it now.

Funny, you don't know why you're crying, but you do know what you're not crying about.

Fyodor is silent, thinking about why you're crying. "Is it about the pain?" You deny again.

Fyodor hums thoughtfully. "If you don't tell me what it is, I can't help you." You ponder on that: does he want to help you? Is he serious?

You make the feeble attempt to gather your thoughts and speak. "It's just- I don't know" Your voice comes out shakier than you wish it would. "When you touch me… It feels so good, I don't deserve it, I don't-"

"Oh, I see… Aren't you crying because of something bad? Is it because it feels good?" You nod quickly, yes, that's as close as you feel. You're happy when it touches you, when it's good to you. Were you crying out of happiness? Well, you guess so, although it feels more depressing.

"It's okay, relax." He leaves a kiss in front, and it breaks you inside. "You've taken the punishment very well, come on, you deserve to be taken care of."

The process of getting up from the floor is horrible, not only because of the pain all over your body and your numb legs, but because your mind doesn't stop spinning around Fyodor's last sentence. It feels horrible and so good at the same time that your mind is only around one specific person.

He helps you up and you let him lean your useless body against his. He guides you through the house, being patient with your slow pace. He's mostly silent, except when he tells you how well you're doing or that not long to go. Since when did Fyodor know how to talk so pleasantly?

You reach the bathroom, he sits you on the toilet and turns on the bathtub faucet. While it is filling, Fyodor takes some pills out of a drawer that you have always found locked. You don't know what the pills are or what they're for, but he hands you one and you take it without question.

You let your head fall against Fyodor's stomach, even though he is standing upright he doesn't move an inch and lets you be comfortable, he strokes your hair and you sigh lovingly. You don't deserve it, but you need more of this Fyodor, the soft Fyodor who takes care of you and makes you feel good, what did you have to do in the future to keep it in this shape? If you need to be damaged for that, well, you are willing to do it.

"The tub is full." He warns and moves a little away from you, causing you to raise your head. You miss a little that he's touching you, even though he's only been separated of you for three seconds. He holds you under your armpits and helps you up. "I need you to stand up on your own, can you, дорогой?"

You try not to focus so much on Fyodor asking you if you could do it instead of just sending you the order, and focus on standing on your own.

The Russian undresses you completely, his hands are soft, and you feel them all over your body. They are so cold, and you are so cold too now that you are naked. You are vulnerable, now more than ever, and Fyodor's fixed gaze on you disturbs you. You are simply an easy prey to hunt, his prey.

He doesn't look like a hunter now, as much as his gaze is like knives stabbing through every spot he focuses on, you think he's not doing it on purpose. Fyodor doesn't know how to be nice, he never has. He knows how to be neutral: he can keep you alive and give you necessities, but he can't kiss you and keep you warm.

But there's something wrong with all this, he's being warm because since when are his hands so soft against your battered body? You need him, you need him so much it hurts, is this his way of being nice? Okay, fine, you accept it without complaint.

When he puts you in the tub you want to die, the cuts on your back burn at the contact of the water. You don't dare say a word at that or ask Fyodor to pull you out, you're afraid you'll upset him, that he'll get tired of you being so weak and whiny and stop being gentle. Fyodor could have left you lying on the cold floor, bleeding, but he didn't. You can't be an unbearable child to him.

The Russian starts washing your body, putting special emphasis on your cuts and the wound on your side. You look at his serious face with need, why were you only now realizing how handsome he was? Mmmh, you must have been blind before. He notices obviously your shy look on his lips and he smiles, that smile indicating that he was superior to you and despite that, he was still keeping you alive and forgiving of everything you did.

He approaches you and gives you the only thing you needed to be satisfied for today: a kiss. It reminds you of all the good things, strangely enough in those memories Fyodor also appears and disturbs you minimally.

You question yourself that, maybe, Fyodor does know how to be gentle.

This is the proof you need to know that now this was a new version, right? He kissed you. You feel a warmth spreading throughout your body, now it is warm, and his hands are warm too. There is a big change in temperature and it feels like heaven.

After that, Fyodor continued to wash you with special care, ignoring how your face might explode from how red it was.

The only thing that could crush the heat was tiredness, you almost fell asleep a couple of times, but you didn't want to fall asleep because it would be like wasting time with this soft Fyodor, what if tomorrow he returned to his serious and impassive face? You can't waste this time or you would regret it.

"Go to sleep, take it easy. I'll take you to bed when I'm finished." You looked at him as the most merciful being in the world. He cared about you…

You hold back your sobs for these acts of kindness, you don't want to cry anymore, not only to avoid possible discomfort in Fyodor, but for yourself, the headache is unbearable.

You let yourself fall asleep, with your head supported on your knees and Fyodor's soothing touch.

You had a nightmare which you don't remember, or don't want to remember. You wake up with your body held in Fyodor's arms, warm and gentle.

Since when did everything become so homey? Homey? Would that be the right word? Describing any situation involving Fyodor with that word doesn't feel natural to you.

You find it hard to feel your body, and your thoughts don't flow as quickly and aggressively as they used to. It's like being enveloped in a cloud, full of comfort and calmness.

You just feel something on your side, at the site of the shallow stab wound. You think maybe it's some bandage, but your limbs are asleep and too comfortable against Fyodor to move them to check. Otherwise, you feel nothing, only someone else's hand on your lower belly, it's extremely intimate in your perspective.

You turn your sleepy head and glance sideways at Fyodor. He seems calm, looking at you, his face is emotionless again and it scares you. You come to convince yourself that he is still the soft Fyodor, if he wasn't his hand wouldn't be on you, he still hasn't changed, you repeat that to yourself until you believe it.

"… Fyodor, do you know what?" Your voice comes out weak and hoarse, you wonder how soon your throat will heal. You're thankful you can't feel it well, so there's no pain anymore.

"Mmmh?"

"I think I love you."

"Do you?" There is a change, minuscule, but a change.

You nod and look away from his face, you can't stand it, no. There has been a change, you don't know in what. There's been a change, a change! Is it good or bad? You want to think it's a nice thing.

"You're different."

"I am? In what way?"

"You're softer, something nice."

"You're drugged, you don't talk sense."

"But you're different! Seriously, you never take care of me."

Silence rules the room and it hurts. Why did you talk? What idiocy, it's your fault everything that happens now, all your fault.

"You cried with happiness when I helped you sit up." Your gaze returns to the other.

"I know, so what? You want me to cry again?" There are no bad intentions behind your comment, there really aren't. You feel your brain empty, and you can't quite interpret the situation, what is Fyodor trying to tell you? Is he angry? Is he going to punish you again? It's exhausting to use your brain in this state, so you just give up and go with the flow.

"No, I don't want that." The silence stretches a little longer and, for just a few seconds, Fyodor looks away. He looks away. "I just… I thought maybe you'd be happier if I treated you good."

"Ah…" He wanted you to be happy? Really?

"I know I hurt you, but you know I only do it when you deserve it, don't you?" You nod and the cuts on your back burn for a few seconds. "Good. I really want you to be happy, with me."

You feel like at any moment the old Fyodor will appear through the door and say something like it was all a test, and then punish you for failing it. It's a horrible feeling, but you come to believe that it will seriously pass.

"So… Are you still going to be soft?"

"Yes, only if you are obedient in return."

Yes, yes, yes. He's going to keep being gentle. For some reason your chest hurts, and you sob, Fyodor has a few drops of surprise in his expression. You hide from his gaze and just focus on the yes, it's like releasing a horrible burden out of your body. You weren't afraid he was lying, something told you he wasn't, his expression maybe, or his voice, or….

"Are you crying with happiness now too?"

"I like the soft Fyodor…"

"Mmmh, that's good, isn't it?" He pulls you a little closer to his face and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead. You'd like to kiss him in return, but you can't move. "I'll keep being soft then."

I swear all I could think about while writing this was to to send it all to hell and make these two fuck

maybe I will make a second part

#bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd fyodor #fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor x reader #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #yandere fyodor #yandere bsd #yandere bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd

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astarion-obsessions · 8 months

Text

I have a fic idea floating around in my head after I read a dialogue from Astarion I didn't come across in my playthrough:

Spoilers for Astarion's story and romance ahead!

"Once, in the first decade of my slavery, I found a darling boy who I couldn't bear to bring back to him. So I ran, instead of hurting that sweet man. After Cazador caught me, the bastard sealed me, starving, inside a dusty tomb, all on my own, for an entire year. A year of silence. Months of scratching my hands raw, trying to carve my way out. More months of not moving at all. Months wishing only for death. So don't you ever judge me for doing what Cazador ordered. Nothing can make up for that. Not even Cazador's death."

And this hit me really hard, like, I can't even begin to imagine what bottomless desperation and hopelessness Astarion must have felt.

So, I have an idea for a fic with a monster hunter Tav, who is the very boy Astarion has saved back then. And I'm being realistic, I will probably never write this fic, so I thought I would share my idea with you guys at least. So here it is:

Tav is this exact darling boy, all grown up now. Astarion sees the resemblance at first sight but he's changed so much that he tells himself that it's not him, it's not the man from almost 200 years ago. When Tav tells his name, Astarion is somewhat relieved. The man he spared all those decades ago had another name. He's been called "xxx" not Tav. The resemblance of their names Astarion chooses to ignore. Because Tav doesn't seem to know him at all according to his behaviour.

Only when Tav introduces himself with his full name, Astarion is hit full force with the now undeniable realisation that this is indeed the man he's refused to bring back to Cazador. Suddenly he feels like the young vampire spawn again, who didn't know what horrors would await him after this fateful rebellious act. How he would suffer just because he wanted to spare this man's life.

But why hasn't he said something? Astarion hasn't changed since then, even without a reflection he is absolutely sure of that, so Tav must have recognised him the second he saw him. So why?

Then it dawns on him. He's forgotten. Tav simply doesn't remember him anymore. Why would he? It's centuries ago. Even for an elf this would feel like a lifetime ago and they've never met again. He was just a fleeting, irrelevant occurrence of an almost deadly night for him, nothing more. And Astarion doesn't even think of reminding him. What purpose would it serve?

Yet, in the days to follow Astarion can't help himself but think about it every time his gaze so much as brushes the figure of their party's de facto leader.

He's seduced him once, he could very well do so a second time. After all, he needs his protection secured. And so he casually asks to everybody around for whom a loved one waits at home. None for Tav, as far as Astarion interprets his silence to this topic.

But then, when they encounter the Gur in the swamp, Tav reveals that he's a Gur friend and also a monster hunter. He greets Gandrel as an old friend and assures him that he will be back in town for sure. But when Gandrel tells Tav why he is there, mentioning the missing children and him hunting a vampire called Astarion… Tav reacts as if he's never heard of him.

Astarion is completely baffled and can't decide what to feel, what to do. He's anxious because of the Gur hunting him, having expected for Tav to just turn him in, but he didn't and now Astarion is anxious and utterly confused. He feels like a helpless animal, trapped in a corner, about to lash out, do anything and everything to be safe.

They part ways with the Gur, wishing him well, and then there's silence. Smothering, deafening silence. Astarion doesn't dare to ask. Ask why he's covered him up. Ask if he remembers. Ask anything at all. Because he's afraid. So so afraid. And if this encounter has taught him anything, it is that he will never be safe, never be free as long as Cazador lives.

Now he needs Tav on his side more than ever. He could ensure his protection against the other Gur. Astarion won't be having one second of peace before this is sorted out, but he doesn't know what to do. Maybe Tav just wants to turn Astarion in himself? Maybe that's why he's never said anything about remembering him. Because he was laying low, waiting for the right moment to strike and take him back to his master. To the very man Astarion has spared him all these years ago.

Perhaps this is what he gets for saving a monster hunter. The very embodiment of a vampire's fiend.

What he doesn't know is that Tav became a monster hunter shortly after the tragic night he met Astarion. But not to hunt the spawns, but to hunt the ones who made them what they were. To hunt power hungry vampire lords. Just that Cazador had been too mighty for a rookie like Tav back then. So he learned. He fought. He hunted. To make a difference to spawns like Astarion.

When they settle down for the night, Astarion's mind is racing. He is sure that Tav will now make him his prey. Astarion needs to act. Fast. He volunteers to keep watch in the first shift- and Tav joins him.

They haven't talked directly to each other since before the Gur, and Astarion is still a nervous wreck, but tries to pull himself together. He chooses to overlook the fact that Tav very well knows what he is, be it since the Gur or - let's be realistic - since the first time they've met outside the nautiloid, and reveals to him that he is a vampire.

Tav already knows this and says so. He reveals that he's known since they met… 200 years ago. So there it is. The proof that he indeed remembers Astarion, he just hasn't said anything because he wasn't sure Astarion remembered him. How could he not? He was a gorgeous sweet boy, one that Astarion might have been seriously interested in… in another life.

Tav tells Astarion that he didn't see him for what he was right away, but their first encounter weighed so heavy on his chest, that he couldn't stop thinking about it. He met some Gur back then, who came around a lot, so they talked about anything and everything. When the Gur mentioned why he was in Baldur's Gate, it hit Tav like a brick to the face. He saw the connection to the night with Astarion clearly, and that's when he knew Astarion was a vampire. Most likely a spawn.

Tav recognised that the Gur had a very… one-sided opinion of vampires and their spawns. But now Tav could put two and two together and guess what Astarion had done for him. He's spared him.

After this crucial realisation Tav had searched for clues, hints, anything that would lead him to Astarion. He would hunt every now and then, wouldn't he? But after almost a year of nothing but a name - Cazador - Tav decided to move on, fearing that Astarion had just vanished.

But even so, their night together has influenced Tav to an extent he didn't know was possible. He had wanted to see the world, to experience its wonders. His tribe had warned him that it was a cruel world, but Tav heard its calling and couldn't just ignore it. And yet, no words could have prepared him for what he had found.

But now that they found each other again, Tav is determined to help him, and Astarion finds himself in a storm of feelings. Would things truly turn to his favor? Could he really dare to let the hope sprout once again after all these hopeless, horrifying years of abuse and domination?

Astarion had learned quickly - and painfully - just what it means to grant himself the luxury of something delusional like hope. But maybe this time he truly has the chance to defy the odds…

Will Tav stand by his side? Will Astarion overcome the demons of his past and find his true self? Will Astarion and Tav work out what they mean to one another on the way? It's a journey with twists and turns and a future utterly uncertain…

Let me know what you think! Maybe I'll get motivated enough to start writing this fic if some people are interested in this scenario...

#astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion romance #astarion romance spoilers #bg3 spoilers #bg3 fic #astarion fic #fic ref #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

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hogwartslegacyreactions2 · 2 months

Note

hey!

I love your blog, you are so talented at making the reactions realistic to each character! great job!

can I ask a reaction were they (students and professors) see the MC be bitten by a werewolf?

or they discovered that they are one?

the choice is yours!

A/N: thankies! I try my best! ❤️

HLC REACT TO MC BEING BITTEN BY A WEREWOLF

WARNING: some angst

Wrong place. Wrong time. That's how it happened. What was just thought to be an ordinary mongrel turned out to be a werewolf. MC laid on the ground in a pool of their own blood, grasping their wand arm. MC managed to kill the beast, but not before it got a nasty bite on them.

Even as new to the magical world as they were, they knew this was bad news. There was no cure to the werewolf disease and as soon as the light of the first full moon hit them, they would become a mindless feral beast. This would be their fate for every month for the rest of their life.

They can't tell anyone. They would never be trusted again. Everyone would abandon them. They would be expelled from school. They would never have a normal life.

They try to claim ill when the full moon would come around and disappear into the forest until the moon would wane again. Unfortunately, this pattern doesn't go unnoticed.

~~~

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: Werewolf is the last word he expected to come out of their mouth. That's why they've been avoiding him? They thought that something like them being a werewolf would make him not want to be their friend? Please, that's the most incredible thing anyone has ever told him!

OMINIS GAUNT: What He really cares about is if they're managing themselves responsibly. They could seriously hurt or kill people, they are not themselves when they're forced to transform. He'll take it upon himself to keep track of the moon cycle and constantly remind MC when the next full moon is.

ANNE SALLOW: Now they're both cursed forever. Misery loves company. At least the company is nice.

IMELDA REYES: She doesn't believe MC at first. That's got to be one of the most wild stories she's ever been told. But the monthly disappearances keep happening. She follows them one night on her broom and sees them transform. They never see her in the canopy of the trees. There's a twinge of fear in her eyes the next time they interact.

NATSAI ONAI: She's curious about the form of lycanthropy. Do they turn into a werewolf specifically or is that just a blanket term for lycanthropic creatures in this area of the world? Because where she's from, lycanthropy takes many shapes. She shows genuine interest in learning about MC's condition and helping them manage it. She'll stupefy them if they don't keep up with their moon chart.

GARRETH WEASLEY: That's a pretty heavy thing to admit to, but he can see the silver lining in this. MC is now a source of pretty rare potion ingredients. Don't look at him like that, of course it's the first thing he thinks of. Werewolf teeth and claws are hard to come by without...well, without a lot of unpleasantness.

LEANDER PREWETT: He reflexively jerks away when they admit it. He's heard horror stories of what werewolves do to people, if they bother to leave you alive. MC couldn't possibly be.... He needs time to process. He won't tell other people, but it's hard for him to look at them the same way.

AMIT THAKKAR: Please, he knows the moon cycle for the next 10 years by heart. While he may stand an extra foot or two away from them, he will still gladly be their friend. They're not dangerous as long as they're being smart. Everything will be all right.

EVERETT CLOPTON: He's uncharacteristically quiet for a long time after MC confesses. It's a lot to take in that someone you know is now considerably more dangerous and unpredictable during certain times of the month. He'll need some time to decide if he's willing to stick around.

POPPY SWEETING: Who's a good dog? Kidding. MC has nothing to worry about with her. She's fully accepting of them in their condition, it's not their fault. And for what it's worth, beasts don't really care either. Stick with them and MC won't have to explain wolf tracks constantly in their vicinity.

~~~

ELEAZAR FIG: Because of the amount of time he has spent with MC, he's the first Professor to notice the change in their behavior. It didn't take long for him to realize they would mysteriously disappear during the full moon. Oh, MC, he's so sorry. This wasn't the end of the world, but this was going to make their life difficult. He'll do what he can for them, they still have him after Hogwarts. He won't let them leave school without a plan.

He informs the other professors individually. He wanted them to be in the know so they can continue to manage MC's education without letting the headmaster catch wind of MC's condition.

MATILDA WEASLEY: This news weighs heavy on her. If any parent caught wind of MC's condition, this would be a nightmare for staff to deal with. They were allowing a werewolf within the walls of a school. But this was MC. They were managing it, everyone else that was important knew about it. They were managing it too. They were doing everything in their power to keep accidents from happening. But what if something does happen?

CHIYO KOGAWA: She and Hecat keep close tabs on MC when the full moon draws near. The new transformations wouldn't happen until the moon was at its peak, but they weren't taking any chances.

AESOP SHARP: He met werewolves during his time as an auror. MC is in for a hard life. The vast majority of wizards do not look upon werewolves kindly. In his spare time, what little he had, he researched treatments for lycanthropy. There had been no successful cures or treatments yet invented, but he could take it crack at it.

ABRAHAM RONEN: Next to Professor Fig, he's the professor MC goes to when they need to talk. This condition that they will have to deal with for the rest of their lives has to be weighing heavily on their mind. Mc can tell him how they're feeling. They will get no judgment from him, only comfort.

MIRABEL GARLICK: She's up for MC experimenting with some new plants she has. One in particular called Wolfsbane. There's a superstition that it repels werewolves. Is it true?

MUDIWA ONAI: She does a palm reading for MC and explains in great detail that their condition does not define them as a person. They are MC. They are a person with feelings and emotions and desires and dreams. Not a monster.

BAI HOWIN: She knows someone. She'll give MC a name and tell them to write to that person. They are the liaison to a small werewolf community, perhaps being in touch with others who have dealt with this will help MC cope. Don't worry, no one else needs to know about this.

DINAH HECAT: She's on watch with Kogawa. She knows MC isn't dangerous until the moon is actually out and at its peak, but it's Professor weasley's orders that they keep visual on MC until they are in the safe zone the nights of the full moon.

CUTHBERT BINNS: As long as MC is well behaved in class and keeps up with their studies, he could not care less what is in their blood.

SATYAVATI SHAH: It crosses her mind to inform the headmaster. Even if they're not intentionally dangerous, they are still potentially dangerous. The safety of her students comes first. A direct order from Professor Weasley keeps her from saying anything and she helps MC keep track of the moon cycle.

PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: He never notices what individual students are up to. It's a good thing too, because MC would be immediately expelled if he did. He won't have a dangerous half-breed in his school.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy reactions #hogwarts legacy professors #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #anne sallow #imelda reyes #natsai onai #garreth weasley #leander prewett #amit thakkar #everett clopton #poppy sweeting #angst

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Hey can you maybe write a fic about Eddie helping his gf through getting her period really bad at school love ur writing x

AN | Eddie Spaghetti, the best and softest boyfriend. We all deserve an Eddie 🥺🥰

Warnings | Language, Period talk

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You wished you could have stayed home. Realistically it probably would have been the best idea, but you also knew that your mother would never allow you to skip school for something so menial such as your period. Even though it was a well known fact that your periods could be brutal sometimes, making it almost impossible to think or focus on anything but your cramps. But you were tough, Eddie always reminded you of that, so you were going to suck it up and deal with it.

But honestly? It fucking sucked.

It was barely halfway through your second class of the day and you were already suffering. It was going to be a long day…at least you were able to look forward to the evening with your wonderful boyfriend. If you made it that far anyway. Dramatic? Yes. Justified? Also yes.

At least you had enough foresight to keep a bottle of painkillers in your locker. Maybe that would help a little bit - worth a try anyway. You excused yourself so you could go to the restroom, grabbed your bag so not everyone had to see what you were doing, and stopped by your locker first.

When you closed your locker again, a small yelp escaped your lips. There was none other than Eddie, standing there with a big smile on his face, “fucking hell, Eddie!”

“Sorry sweetheart,” he pressed a playful kiss to your cheek, “thought you heard me coming.”

“You’re silent like some kind of weird ninja,” you waved your hand around to which he only grinned, “or I’m too wrapped up in my own thoughts. Wait - what are you doing out of class?”

“Doesn’t matter - penny for your thoughts?”

“Eddie.”

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, clutching at his heart as you just snorted at him, “I saw you leave class and followed after you. Had to make sure my best girl was okay.”

“‘m fine,” you murmured, trying to play it off like it was no big deal. You didn’t need him to worry about you on top of everything else, “you can go back to class, Eddie. I was just running to the bathroom.”

“When did you decide to start lying to me?” he raised an eyebrow curiously, your face flushing with warmth when you realized how easily he could read you. You opened your mouth to speak, but he put a finger on your lips to keep you from speaking, tutting gently, “honesty is the best policy, my love.”

“Eddie,” his name came out as a smushed murmur as he shook his head, “‘n not lying.”

“Wait,” his brows furrowed for a moment, pretty chocolate brown eyes studying you intently. You wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss him, but his finger was still squished against your lips. It didn’t stop you from pressing a kiss to it, “I know what’s going on! It’s your least favorite time of the month, aka you’ve gotten your period.”

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face as you looked at him incredulously. Your heart melted as you looked at your metalhead in surprise, “h-how do you know that?”

“I…how wouldn’t I?” he looked at you in confusion as though it should have been obvious that he possessed this piece of knowledge, “you get it every month, it’s pretty much like clockwork for you….it’s not that hard to keep track. ‘specially after that one time when the condom broke and -”

“Eddie!” you hissed softly, looking around to make sure no one had been listening in. Luckily, it appeared to be just the two in the quiet, abandoned hall, “don’t worry, I remember that too. But, you…you keep track of it?”

“‘course,” his smile was always so magical - all toothy and sweet, showing off his dimple, “how else am I going to know when you’re suffering? I have to make sure so I can take care of you.”

Oh. Yeah, you were a sucker for this man, pure and simple. Your eyes prickled with tears, causing you to blink rapidly in order to try and keep them at bay. Eddie reached over and put his hand on your face, brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you,” he kissed your forehead before reaching for your backpack, “now let’s get out of here so you can rest.”

“Cut class?”

“Well yeah,” he answered as though it was the most obvious thing, “I know how bad your cramps can get and I think it’s better for you to rest than try and suffer through the rest of the day. Besides, these are doctor’s orders.”

“Oh? And just what doctor happened to make these orders?”

“Doctor Best Boyfriend Ever,” he cheesed, you giggled. You were madly in love with him, “now c’mon, let’s get out of here and let me take care of you.”

“Well, I have to listen to the doctor,” you nodded, leaning over on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. You grabbed onto him, gently holding it as you looked at him with the softest eyes, "thank you, Eddie."

"There's nothing to thank me for," he promised softly, "I would do anything for you."

"Can we stop and get some chocolate on the way home?" your voice almost dropped to a whisper as you looked at him with bright, shy eyes, "and maybe pizza?"

"Of course, princess," he swung your backpack over his shoulder, "now let's get outta here before we get caught!"

-─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Less than hour later you were padding after Eddie into his trailer, arms empty as he struggled to balance everything. You’d offered to help but he wasn’t having it for a moment; you were going to relax and rest and he would take care of everything else. He’d decided that you were going to spend the day at his, opting not to take the chance and going to your house in case one of your parents came home early. As good as they were, they wouldn’t understand you needing to leave school early.

“Home sweet home,” he beamed, setting your backpack down and pizza on the counter…along with the bag of sweets you’d collected at the store. You’d fully intended on buying the things you wanted and the supplies you needed, but Eddie had beaten you to it and taken everything to the register and paid for it himself. As if he could get more amazing.

“I love it here,” you sighed softly as you walked over to the couch and almost collapsed on it, reaching for one of the soft and well-loved blankets, “it always feels like home here, ‘cause of you.”

“I love it when you’re here,” his heart constricted in his chest and he thought he might die from the sheer amount of affection and love he held for you, “how’re you feeling?”

“Okay,” the painkillers were slowly wearing off and you felt the onslaught of cramps starting to come back, “tired, getting crampy. Hey, my love, you’ll tell me if I’m being too annoying, right?”

“If that ever happened, you know I would,” you heard him shuffling around in the kitchen, “but that is impossible, so you never have to worry.”

You laughed at his silliness, and it was only a few seconds before he came over to you and kneeled at your side. Unable to stop yourself, you reached over and brushed his curls out of his face, “hi handsome.”

“Hi beautiful,” he held up the heating pad before reaching under the blanket and placing it on your tummy, “I know you like the heating pad for cramps, so I got one to keep here.”

“Oh Eddie,” before he could turn to plug it in, you tenderly grabbed his face and pressed a kiss to his lips, “you are so wonderful.”

“I’m just…trying to help,” his entire face turned pink at your praise as he made quick work of plugging it in. He handed you a bottle of water, a few more painkillers, and a candy bar, “and I hope this is helping.”

“It is,” you really couldn’t have asked for anything or anyone better, “Eddie? Can I ask you for one more favor?”

“Of course,” he touched your face so gently that it made you want to melt into him, “anything, princess.”

“Will you cuddle me?” your soft lips pulled into a pout, causing Eddie to chuckle. As if that was really a question - the man would cuddle you no matter what, “you don’t have to, if you don’t wanna. I feel all icky and gross, but -”

“You are perfect,” he insisted firmly, leaving you no choice but to accept what he was saying, “and you are not icky or gross or anything like that. I will gladly cuddle with you, sweetheart.”

“But if I get blood-”

“You won’t,” he stood up to kick his shoes off, and discard his jacket, “and even if you did, so what? It’s just blood, it’s all natural, what your body is going through is normal. It sucks and I wish I could make it so I was the one dealing with it, but it’s okay.”

“Okay,” you sat up and scooted over so he could lie down. He slowly did so, and pulled you on top of him, settling you between his legs so you could rest your head on his chest. He made sure the heating pad was right on top of you to help as much as it could, “you’re so warm, like my own personal heater. And you’re so comfy.”

“Ahhh,” he groaned playfully, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I knew you only wanted me for my body.”

“I’m a woman of taste,” reaching for his hand, you threaded your fingers through his and rested them on your tummy, “what can I say? You’re the total package - handsome, smart, funny, and multi-talented? What more could I want?”

“Silly girl,” there was nothing but gentle affection and fond teasing behind his words, “what more could I want? Nothing, that’s what.”

“Hmm,” sleep was quickly making your eyes heavy and you felt yourself falling under the siren call of slumber, “me neither. ‘m gonna marry you someday, Eddie Munson. You’re not just boyfriend material, you’re husband material.”

“Funny,” and oh. How his heart was beating wildly in his chest, surely threatening to break through his ribcage, “I was just thinking the same thing about you. Gonna marry you, princess, but I’m gonna do it right.”

“Whatever you do will be perfect,” you murmured already half asleep, “because it’s you.”

“Oh honey, honey,” he sighed wistfully, “I love you, but I think right now you need to rest and later we watch a movie and eat lots of snacks, yeah?”

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed, “love you so much, my Eddie Spaghetti.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #this one is for me today lol

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decolonize-the-left · 3 months

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Okay, I'm also a little on the confused train. I vote third party and independent in my local elections when their policies (as they often are) are better than the local democrats. I vote for some local democrats when they, as in my community they happen to be, black activists who organized the entire of the blm movement in my city and then moved to campaigning for city council and stuff. I participate in mutual aid, I use my free time to bake bread for, and then deliver the bread and naltrexone to unhoused encampments. I advocate for every school in my area to teach actual native history. I distribute land back and esims for gaza pamphlets all over my city. I volunteer at soup kitchens a couple times a month, ect. I "donate" monthly "rent" to the tribes on whos land i live. I am currently at the least protest voting uncommitted in my states primary.

But like, I do bump up against... I don't want to vote for Biden. But if Trump wins, he's states he's going to put his everything into not only the genocide in Palestine, but hella racist internal policies beyond what we already have, stripping voting rights, stripping any existing social safety nets, removing anit hate crime protections, ect

So like. Yes. I am thinking about how indigenous communities would be impacted, at least in the short term. Among many others.

My final vote isn't decided yet

Do you really think it will prevent harm to vulnerable people to risk another trump term?

Not trying to be an asshole, asking you bc I respect you

*scare quotes are to imply that I think that language is shallow and not useful but I don't know what else to say

Please don't block me I'm being completely sincere about being deeply empathetic to your anger and share in it, but also confused and scared about the right course of action and the reasoning behind it

My opinions stem from my own organizing and activism.

I think it's going over a lot of heads that the same way we organize for landback or BLM and leave zines around to have progress in dismantling those, we ALSO need to be organizing behind 3rd party candidates to dismantle the 2 party system.

Like how helpful would it be to Any of those causes if someone said that instead of organizing for landback or donating or helping houseless people you should just vote for Biden?

That'd be ridiculous. Biden doesn't have any intention of significantly helping with any of those things and he's no substitute for the activism that's being done or still needed right?

So why are we as organizers accepting this logic when it comes to one of the most powerful positions in the world?

Why are we settling and saying he's the "realistic" choice and accepting it when we Know there are other options and avenues because we've Already worked in them?

I don't understand this and if You could shed some light I would in All Honesty appreciate it.

It's ACTUALLY confusing as hell to me that people I respect and work with and see as peers and comrades think that harm reduction is the best way to vote. It's confusing that instead of advocating for other avenues and educating people about other options or working for 3rd party campaigns or leaving educational zines around throughout election cycles and campaigns..... They say they're just gonna vote for Biden.

Yeah Trump sucks. I'd never deny that. I'd never deny he's dangerous. I just Also don't see how Blue Fascism is different from Red Fascism. It's all fascism and idk why we think Blue Fascism is an acceptable trade off when we literally Do Not have to keep making this trade.

The fact so many of us regularly feel like we don't have a choice is a testament to democracy already being dead, you know? Idk what we're saying 'yeah but the other fascists could be worse so let's just keep our heads down' as leftists.

I'm gonna be very real here, my concern is the future of humanity at this point. Point blank. White supremacy is an evil ideology that has harmed every person it touches while also making sure they help perpetuate it. In the last 5 years I've watched Nazis come back, several genocides, climate change and the death of winter, and police kill a man trying to protect a forest. Our president is more concerned with his campaign than the people he's killing or the families he's exploiting to do it.

Someone is going to have to risk something in order to stop a machine this big from killing all of us. The earth my child is going to inherit is going to be unrecognizable to me. She'll be lucky if she's never a climate refugee, just as it's Only luck that she's here in the first place after the USA tried to kill off the native Americans.

My concern is Everyone. And I know it seems backwards as hell to risk something so awful, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices to have something better.

I'd give anything to save my daughter from the future she's currently on track to inherit. And that doesn't mean that I don't love her. It's a testament to how much worse I genuinely believe things will get if we continue down this path accepting anything As Long As It's Not As Awful As It Could Be.

We would lie down and Vote to have robot dogs surveil our neighborhoods for immigrants and drag queens at this point "as long as it's not trump" and doesn't that terrify you more than he does?

It terrifies me.

There's no way that's harm reduction when we are NOT being harmed that way right now. That's Increasing the harm. A harm guarantee that you were tricked you into signing under threat of something worse.

#asked #answered #electoral politics #trump #leftist #socialist #anarchist #communist

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writingforatwistedworld · 1 year

Note

Ah, I hope this isn't annoying, but I couldn't resist! I just read the request for the self-aware au, for a player who is actually a god and I really LOVED the idea!!! So if it's not too much trouble, could I ask for the exact same idea only with Ruggie, Riddle and Ace?

By the way, I love your blog and your work, I love your creativity!! ❤️❤️❤️

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsebility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, religion, obsessiveness, murder, blood, beheading, violence, death

My works are not meant to be taken seriously. Neither am I telling you in what kind of religion you are supposed to believe in.

Riddle Rosehearts/Ace Trappola/Ruggie Bucchi-Player is a real god

God of law and order

Oho, so we are actively trying to make him loose his mind (mhm good plan good plan)

I mean, come on, the Queendom of roses is a place I would rank “third-most-not-so-fluffy-relationship-with-you” and he grew up in there so what did you expect?

Something normal? Ha! You are making me laugh

But here we are, croquette master with a hedgehog in his hand in person, almost dropping his needely friend

But how did he even find out? Well… Leona. Leona and a lot of ink (you catching my drift, right?)

Things were looking south and everything was just so…. so… unruly

Mhm I can see how a God of law and order popped a blood vessel in that kind of situation

And whilst you aren’t some kind of being creating bloodshed and war getting hit by a rule book and whatever kind of abilities you have has to hurt

Also it was giving away who you truly were

I mean, yay? Now you have an (somehow possible) even more obsessive follower…

And they all wonder why he suddenly became so religious

Even if you are a more “chill” kind of entity concerning your field of work (the market of Gods is always having too little workers) he is still like “Nope Trey. Imma go pray to ruler number 168” or something like that

Like I said, religious

But oh dear heavens (u get it heavens in like… ok I’ll stop) someone disrespects you or tries to take his seat as “most devoted follower of the month”

Uh… he was in the mood for a “realistic” demonstration of how the Queen of Hearts would deal with annoyances

Just tell him that you are proud… otherwise I’m not sure that even the hedgehogs would tolerate him and his… rather red behaviour

God of trickery

Hmm… this one is kinda tricky

You see, he is from the Queendom of Roses but at the same time he is not powerful enough to do that much damage… with magic at least

When Ace found out that you were everything but a ordinary student you two were in a rather unhappy situation

I mean, either you make that huge glass thingy behind Riddle trip and fall or you can eat rose bush which it was swinging around like crazy… pick your poison

Ace isn’t the fatest tool in the shed but when you, a magicless student, suddenly used something akin to magic he knew that something was up

And who would have known, maybe if it wasn’t for the bad parenting of Riddles mother you may have hidden this until the day you would go separate ways

But oh well, seems like fate decided it wanted him to be religious

I mean, a God of trickery, something like that is perfect for him!

Not to mention that you are way more approachable than some God of law and order because who would want to follow such a stiff deity? (Jokes on you Ace but Riddle...)

Despite him being on the “chill, man” side I can also see a huge spike in religiousness in his personality

I mean, come on, it’s now literally proven with his own two eyes that God (or Gods) at least exist

You know that meme “he don’t but-YES IT DOES!” that’s him

My man just turns feral when someone dares to take your prescious attention and time away from him

Literally a menace, and not the peaceful kind

Before you know it he is asking you if you can help him dig holes for a “garden project”

In the middle of the woods. Aha. Totally believable

Well, all I can say is that Trey will probably miss the kitchen knife... yeah I would buy a new one and never use the old one again...

You know... Maybe the cake looks a bit red if he were blind and never noticed anything.... It's a “garden project”, ok? Let the man raise his Gladiolus, Aconitum, Lycoris and Chrysanthemum

God of kindness and equality

So we feeding the carnivores today? Sounds like a plan. Not a good one but at least it is one

Ruggie has always been someone who needed to clench his teeth and do stuff other people wouldn't do simply to have his basic needs fulfilled

So imagine you standing there one day, opening up that you are in truth literally the things he had been craving all his life for

Mhm, I am just had he doesn't have rabies. You could have fooled me with how aggressive he becomes towards new people (and also your own little circle to be honest) after finding that out

Here we are, Leona is dealing with his stuff in an unhealthy way and someone needs to step up and bring him down to earth again

But imagine his surprise that you were actually the good of kindness after you slapped our local lion who may or may have not escaped from the Zoo next door back into reality (and out of his doom)

After he spends even more time with you it starts to make sense thought

Even though he is the closest person to Leona which could be used for someone's benefit people still tend to be at least wary of him because... well broken bones hurt, you know?

But here you are, holding out your hand to him, offering him your kindness and friendship

Though you could have said “marry me” because win his eyes that is exactly what you did

And who is he to say no to such an perfect being literally being from heaven (or whatever higher place)

He is scratching, biting, kicking and using all the dirty tricks in the book just to keep you alone, isolated and all for himself

Of course he won't do that in front of you, he isn't a monster! Such a pure and perfect being lime you doesn't need to witness such a thing!

If you thought that Diasomnia is already bad then I would say yes, he is only a teeny tiny bit better than them

Why? Oh well, he doesn't have the magical or physical strength to start a war

That doesn't mean he won't leave you alone

Oh no

You will spend somewhere the rest of the time he exists in a small in the middle of nowhere thinking that everyone despises you

He has a way with words (and sharp, suspiciously red teeth) you know?

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pochipop · 1 year

Text

＃GENSHIN IMPACT !! ♡ — ON THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON (CHILDE X READER).

#. synopsis! — childe knows he doesn't deserve this, but he just can't let you go .

#. characters! — childe .

#. warnings! — angst .

#. word count! — 1k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — this is my "from the vault" era. most of the things i'll be posting for a while will probably have been started anywhere from a few months to over a year ago. i have a huge google doc just stocked with fics that i started and never finished, so i'm trying to wrap some of them up neatly enough to post them and at least let them see the light of day lol.

It’s always lonely at the top.

On nights like this, Childe realizes that now more than ever. Snezhnaya is his home, —but in a more abstract sense of the term. He knows the snow-covered lands and the bitter chill of frost like the backs of his scarred hands, and yet this nation feels less like the soft place he can fall upon each time he returns from somewhere else. It’s the center of his youth, the place that fills most of his heart, but things have certainly changed since he was little more than a young boy who loved making angels in the snow. The world moves faster now; days bleed into weeks in a matter of moments, and there are many times Childe wishes that the weather could freeze time like it does everything else around here.

Still, maybe it’s better that it doesn't. Even if it did somehow, he’s not sure how he’d spend that time anyway. A part of him is all too certain that he’d waste it away, losing sight of his goals within seconds.

He’s always been too driven by madness for his own good.

The viscous truth of it all is that Childe craves acceptance, but doesn’t really like to be loved. Even as you sleep next to him, his arm clutched in your warm, forgiving grip; he doesn’t know how to put such thoughts to the wayside. Selfishly, he wants you. Sometimes, it feels like he needs you. Realistically, though, Childe knows he shouldn’t have you. You’re not much of a fighter, and your only ties to the Fatui are through him, which he holds an insurmountable level of shame and regret for. If not for him, he’s certain your life would be a lot less complicated.

You’ve even said so yourself, albeit only jokingly. Those few little quips hold just enough water for Childe to drown himself in them, though. He wants to push you away as his lungs fill in and oxygen depletes, but you’re so goddamn intoxicating that he can’t bear the thought of parting ways. You snuggle closer to him as if seeking the heat of his body, —as if seeking the protection it offers from any ghoulish figures that could pop up in your otherwise sugar coated dreams.

Childe isn’t sure what he’d do without this, —without the ability to come staggering home to you. Truthfully, you’re more of a home to him now than Snezhnaya has ever been. He yearns for nights like this more than you’ll ever know, more than he’ll ever be able to articulate properly, because Celestia knows he’s never been very good with words.

Not when they’re genuine, anyway.

He can put on a show just fine, put that charismatic mask on and make strangers fall to their knees at his feet. But once they get a glimpse of the monster inside that lusts for violence and bloodshed on every battlefield, they run for the hills. And Childe isn't naive enough to wonder why. He knows, probably better than anyone else ever will, that he is hard to love, and even more difficult to be loved by.

When everything is going steady, he likes to send some ripples through the water just because he can. He pushes buttons he knows he should leave alone, —maybe because he can’t help himself, or maybe because deep down, he wants to push you away. You can’t just up and decide that you want to see him rot his way back into the earth beneath his feet if he flips all the right switches and makes it happen at will. There’s no disappointment to be had there if he’s the one who incites it; like flicking a match and watching your house go up in flames.

If he does it to himself, there’s no reason to be sad about it.

Self-sabotage has always been kind of his thing. Still, here you are with your soft tufts of breath fanning against him, trusting him not to let himself snap to the point of no return and burn everything down around you both (figuratively and literally.) And for the life of him, —Childe doesn’t get it. He really doesn’t. You’ve always wanted a simpler life, one you know he can’t give you. . . But here you are, and he doesn’t have the heart to push you away like he knows deep down that he should.

If he’s being honest with himself, and this is one of the rare times that he is, he knows he should be building his walls high enough to force you out if that’s what it takes. Everytime you lay with him like this, he knows he’s stealing that tranquil life you’ve always wanted away from you, and it eats him up inside. He’s not what’s best for anybody, nonetheless for you.

He knows, he knows, he knows. . . He really should just—

“Hey,” you say softly, and his resolve crumbles away like the walls he tries to build between himself and you. “Can’t sleep?”

Childe looks over at you and pauses for a few moments, admiring the way you love him, even when he doesn’t deserve it. Then he thinks to himself that he’s never truly deserved it, and the cycle begins again. He hums in acknowledgement, and you hold him closer, like you’re trying to mend all his broken pieces back together (even if you don’t know it.) It won’t help him sleep, but it feels nice to be cared for like this. To be loved, to be seen. . . To be stripped bare in the moonlight that spills in from your window is a blessing sent straight from Celestia, and it makes him wonder just what he’s ever done well enough to have ended up here in his lifetime.

“You’re thinking too much,” you say.

He almost laughs, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “I know.”

#childe #childe angst #childe genshin #genshin impact #childe x reader angst #childe x reader #childe x you #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x reader angst #genshin impact x reader angst #genshin x reader angst #genshin x reader #childe tartaglia x reader #genshin childe #childe tartaglia #childe x y/n #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x y/n

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ghostradiodylan · 8 months

Text

———————————

Companion piece to Truth or Dare: Ryan's Version.

Both are excerpts from the second chapter of my longer story Particles & Waves.

Playlist Needle Drop: Still With Me - Jukebox the Ghost

———————————

“I dare you to kiss either Kaitlyn… or Dylan.”

Ryan was the one tasked with the decision, yet Dylan could feel everyone looking at him instead. Had he been that transparent about his interest in Ryan? Apparently he had. He typically enjoyed being the center of attention, but not like this, not when he wasn’t in control of the narrative. Hadn’t he been the one hosting this game show a minute ago? Now he was but a hapless contestant. Bob Barker was calling him to ‘come on down’ and he did not feel at all confident about winning the showcase.

Dylan’s cheeks were burning. He could feel himself fidgeting under the gaze of his fellow counselors and he couldn’t seem to stop. He couldn’t be cool about this, as much as he wanted to be. Despite his cultivated aura of casual detachment, Dylan had maybe the worst poker face in the entire world when any kind of crisis hit and he was fully aware of that. He hesitated to look at Ryan for this reason. He wanted to try to gauge what he might be thinking, but he didn’t want his stupid whipped puppy eyes to start pleading his case to Ryan without his consent. It was so unbelievably embarrassing to be this invested.

Dylan wasn’t without hope, he’d felt a few of the advances he’d made toward Ryan earlier in the evening had been well-received, or at least not outright rejected, but he was trying to prepare himself in case he wasn’t picked. He didn’t want it to disappoint him but he knew that it would, and realistically no amount of preparation would soften the blow. More than that, he didn’t want the disappointment to show on his face, he knew the others would be looking for it if Ryan kissed Kaitlyn instead of him, and he knew that it being written all over his face was wholly unavoidable as well, unless Dylan somehow quickly found a bag to put over his head.

And then Ryan had said, “I guess both is off the table?”

Wow, Dylan had thought, greedy.

He wasn’t sure how to parse this statement. Dylan was running the numbers but he couldn’t quite work this into the equation to quantify his odds of getting that kiss. It seemed so nonchalant, flippant even, that it made him feel even more foolish for caring so much about a silly little kiss in a silly little game. At the same time, it wasn’t a refusal. It certainly wasn’t a ‘no homo.’ It was more of a ‘yes homo and also yes hetero.’ Sure, anyone could kiss anyone, it didn’t mean anything, really, but this was the closest Ryan had come to making any sort of declaration about his own sexuality the entire two months that Dylan had known him. It was a significant development in his painstaking academic study of Ryan and he was noting it with a more than academic level of interest.

Was this simply the offer of a consolation prize? Was Ryan preparing him by saying, hey, he’d kiss them both if he could, but rules were rules, no hard feelings, pal? Or was he actually thinking of a three-way? Dylan hadn’t cared much for that thought; Kaitlyn was pretty hot as far as his slim appreciation for the opposite sex would allow him to admit, but he really didn’t think he’d like to share.

He was spared this line of thought going any further because Ryan had said his name.

Ryan had chosen him.

“Dylan,” he said, “let’s go.” He sounded pretty happy about it too.

That was his name, right? He was still named Dylan? He decided that he was.

So the consolation prize was for Kaitlyn, then? Dylan loved her dearly but he couldn’t bring himself to feel too badly about that. And Kaitlyn, he knew, was a catch. She was beautiful and funny and cool. She knew about guns and cars and sports and had a mouth like a sailor and a daytime television face. She was the archetypal ‘cool girl’ most straight guys seemed to be fantasizing about. For Ryan to choose him over someone like her hadn’t felt like a stunt to shock or impress the other counselors. It had felt like it meant something.

Dylan had tried not to look too eager, getting to his feet and striding over to Ryan as their coworkers wolf-whistled and cheered. Allyship awards for each and every one of you, he’d thought, and two for Emma. He wondered, belatedly, why he had to be the one taking the walk when it was Ryan’s dare but if Ryan wanted to be a pillow princess about this, Dylan wasn’t about to complain.

And why in the hell hadn’t he put his beer down before he walked over? He was so faintly aware of it in his hand that he would have been in real danger of pouring it over Ryan’s crotch as he leaned over him if it hadn’t been half empty already. Dylan hadn’t realized the risk he’d taken until it was over. That would have been one of those moments that only works out in rom-coms, where the endearingly clumsy protagonist has to go help the love interest clean up and clothes start to come off and things progress from there. At the time, he’d congratulated himself on the near miss, but now he was thinking maybe he should have served Ryan that lap full of Savini’s Best cold-filtered pilsner and taken his chances. Assuming Ryan had let him help out, it would have gotten the two of them away from the fire pit before things started to go sideways, if nothing else.

The kiss itself was only slightly more sensual than when Dylan had smacked the faces of his babysitters’ daughter’s two Ken dolls together when he was 5 years old (though, to be fair, that had felt thrilling and transgressive to him, as a very tiny gay, at the time). He blamed himself for that, he’d been so focused on reining in any untoward impulses he might have that he’d pulled back much sooner than he’d intended. But he had to walk back to his seat and, with everyone looking so intently at him, it would be a bit mortifying to make that journey with any visible degree of a hard on. Still, his lips had pressed softly against Ryan’s lips and no matter how brief or how chaste a kiss it was, it definitely counted. Emma’s truly obscene kiss with Nick followed and it had made him feel a little better that he at least hadn’t put on such an appalling display as that.

But the moment he pulled away, Dylan could have sworn that Ryan had shifted slightly forward after him. It was so subtle that he would question whether it had happened at all, and Ryan had half ruined it with his corny line about being happy to please, but now he was sure that it had happened. He was also sure that the eye contact they’d briefly made when Dylan regained his seat, before he’d forced himself to look down and away, had meant exactly what he’d hoped it meant. This was just a game, sure, but it was also a prelude to something else. Ryan had wanted more, wanted him. And as irrevocably fucked up as everything had become in the interim, having that confirmed still felt pretty fucking good.

———————————

Can you even call yourself a Rylan fanfic author if you don’t take a crack at this scene? I’m thinking no.

#the quarry #dylan lenivy #ryan erzahler #rylan #radioheads #dylan x ryan #ryan x dylan #the quarry fanfic #tq radioheads #the hacketteers #kaitlyn ka #the quarry fanfic excerpt #my writing

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likeastarstar · 2 years

Text

the ring - JUNGKOOK

It happened when you were asleep.

You didn't know it at the time- but Jungkook was struggling.

He was getting in fights, reacting to things he would normally brush off. He was irritable, losing sleep- completely, insanely, totally consumed by the idea that you'd say no.

He was already preparing for himself that moment, the moment when he'd offer himself to you completely, only asking for the same in return and you'd say no.

Jungkook could see it- "Will you marry me?"

No. Absolutely not, you'll be busy all the time and you'll never be able to satisfy me.

What if you were right?

Not the real you- obviously, but the fake, imaginary, mean you that he was almost entirely certain you'd been hiding from him for the four years you had been together.

He was so stupid for even buying the ring- why did he buy it?

Jungkook spent months looking at rings, just for fun, not like he's really going to do it. He wouldn't ever actually press 'add to cart'. Instead, he'd find himself at jewelry stores way more frequently than he should, under the pretenses of buying earrings or getting a loose diamond in his cuban switched out, but he'd wind up just coincidentally looking at the engagement rings too, because why not?

Would you like any of these? Are any of these good enough?

When he looked at them- did he see you?

He decided there was no harm in looking because there wasn't a ring out there good enough for you- the day he found it, that would be the day the world stopped turning anyway, so it wouldn't matter if you said yes or not.

But then he found it and it burned a hole in his pocket.

It seethed with anger over being ignored in his sock drawer and filled him with crazy thoughts like- do it! ask her! who cares if she says no?

It made him so wound up he took it out on everyone else, picking at a festering wound instead of treating it.

He hadn't slept in days and so finally he just...did it.

You woke up, something strange ripping you from the freakishly realistic dream you had been having about you and Jungkook and a really big hot tub.

You frowned, wiggling around in soft cream sheets to try finding the dream again wherever it had fallen out of your head and into the bed.

"Wh-Huh?" You stuttered, Jungkook's wide eyes filling your blurry vision.

"Please?"

"What?" You said again, looking around wildly.

He didn't say anything, freaking you out more. Your eyes flashed from his wide, scared expression sending your anxiety through the roof. There was nothing wrong with the room- nothing wrong with him, physically, at least. You looked at yourself, making sure you weren't hurt and that's when you saw it.

Thin band, simple. There was a diamond in the middle, oval, one that took your breath away. You turned your hand over and there was this tiny diamond embedded in the band, directly across from the larger one.

"Please? Please just say yes," Jungkook muttered under his breath. "I'll do anything, I just want you."

You looked at him with a strange expression on your face, shocked at how nervous he seemed. What did he have to be nervous about?

The answer was so clearly yes- yes, yes, it was the only answer. You loved him so desperately, in such an all-consuming way that you never had another choice but to say yes.

If you didn't have him, if you didn't have Jungkook, you wouldn't breathe. The world would stop turning.

"Yes," You said simply, "Of course."

"Really?" He said optimistically, "You mean it?"

You nodded your head, rubbing the sleep away from your eyes before grabbing his face, kissing him soundly.

"I love you," You whispered against his skin.

"I love you, thank you, I love you." Jungkook replied, leaning into your body, all of his anxiety and pent up anger dissipated.

masterlist.

#bts drabble #bts timestamps #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook drabble #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook x oc #jungkook x y/n

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thekatebridgerton · 8 months

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Had to make at least one post for Halloween and here we are.

This started as another episode of Bridgerton on a scale of 1 to 8, and evolved into mini aus, to celebrate the end Halloween month today's topic is: on a scale of 1 to 8 what's their likelihood of survival in a Zombie Apocalypse

From most number of close calls with death. To the least.

8) Hyacinth: probably the reason the zombie virus spread in the first place, Hyacinth's reckless endangerment of her person and 'rules don't apply to me' mentality makes her a perfect Zombie hunter AND Zombie bait. Girl has had so many close calls that Anthony is honestly surprised she's still alive. Once she meets fellow reckless endangerment aficionado and epidemiologist Gareth StClair they team up to find the clues for a possible zombie virus cure that his Italian grandmother left in her journals.

7) Gregory: this dumb idiot propensity for helping people who have clearly been bitten and lack of self preservation on par only with Hyacinth, makes him the Bridgerton least likely to survive the zombie apocalypse. Realistically he'd be bitten within the week of the virus outbreak, because he was infatuated with a pretty girl who had no interest in him and follows her to the middle of a zombie hoard. Lucky for him, his crush best friend saves him from certain zombiehood by cutting off a limb and he spends the rest of his life grateful to Lucy for having more braincells than him. As they journey to his family compound in the countryside

6) Daphne: She's likely to last at least two weeks more than Gregory. Because she's a Bridgerton girl and she knows how to use a weapon better than him. But Daphne is a city girl who never learned how to use a stove and when she's on her own she has this way of finding herself in dangerous situations without thinking things through first. Which makes her chances of survival Completely reliant on local gun toting business man Simon Basset who picked her up as a favor to Anthony and is now determined to drop her off safely at the Aubrey Hall compound. Whether she likes it or not.

5) Benedict: you would think this British gentleman would know how to fend zombies off. But truth is, he's a soft boy that hates gore and blood, he also gets sick very easily and relies on his skill with a baseball bat to crush skulls and run away, Benedict has only survived so far because he's got excellent hearing and can run away from Zombies faster than they take to show up. On his way out of London he found his old flame Sophie fending off a hoard of frat boy zombies and basically crashed a car against the zombies and told her to get in. He offered to takes her with him to Aubrey Hall where his family has a bunker in exchange for her teaching him how to survive on his own in the wilderness and cooking for him. Sophie isn't very keen on being Benedict's maid but she knows it's her best shot at survival so she's decided to trust him

4) Francesca: she is surviving entirely on her own terms. After losing John to an early version of the zombie virus two years ago. Francesca took a page out of Anthony's book and built her own bunker in Kilmartin castle with her two mother in laws. It is now the biggest survivor settlement in Scotland. The only time little miss social distancing has been in danger of being attacked by Zombies was when Michael somehow showed up after 2 years of being MIA running away from his feelings towards her and she almost got her leg bitten off trying to let him in the Kilmartin settlement. As of right now, Michael is killing zombies left and right, and Francesca really isn't allowed to go out of the Kilmartin settlement EVER. (Not that she wants to) she's #4 because just like Benedict, Francesca has no survival skills. She's just great at preventive measures

3) Anthony: extremely afraid of dying, He built a zombie proof compound in the countryside and holed himself up there as soon as the first rumor of the zombie apocalypse began. This man may not have Colin's survival skills but he's got something better: money!. This guy has everything you'd ever need for a Zombie Apocalypse accumulated in his estate. The place is completely self sustaining, his car is basically a glorified zombie killing tank that runs on solar power. Anthony Bridgerton ain't dying like a little b*ch thank you very much. His only close calls have been because of his little territory war with Kate Sharma, who is the leader of the Danbury settlement in the next town over. Kate and her fellow survivors happen to be more guns instead of words kind of community and Anthony has been trying to get them all to just join him in the safety of Aubrey Hall zombie proof gates. But as long as Kate doesn't trust him, or his intentions. Her community of survivors treats him as persona non grata and limits themselves to just trading food and weapons

2) Eloise: she's the whole package, the survival skills to make it alone trekking from London to the countryside without help. Expert marksman with a trustly gun that never fails her. The instincts to not trust sus people, the reflexes to kill a zombie on sight and the good sense to avoid danger whenever she's close to it. Out of all her sisters, Eloise has the lowest chance of dying from the zombie apocalypse. She doesn't go looking for trouble! She's simply the trouble that finds other people. Most likely to find another self sustaining estate like Aubrey Hall completely by accident trying to get home. And immediately establish herself as the boss. Not that former pen pal Phillip Crane believes her excuse of getting lost on her way to Anthony's and finding Romney Hall. To which she had the coordinates back then when they were still dating long distance. But oh well. Another reason she's likely to survive the zombie apocalypse is because she's great at bluffing her way into people's hearts. She was never keen on letting Anthony be the boss of her during the zombie apocalypse anyway, Phillip and his kids need a female influence (with a gun) around the compound anyway so now she's staying and if they don't like it they can take it up with management!.

1) Colin: At this point, all his family is almost sure that this lucky bast*rd is immune to Zombie bites. Colin survival skills makes him a freak of nature that needs to be studied. He's a bonafide zombie hunter with the best track record in the world. Wears a kevlar suit that makes it impossible for zombie bites to break skin. He's a killer shot, killer smooth talker, can survive in and out of the wilderness, can build traps, build zombie proof camping sites whenever he finds survivors. Lives to travel the land Killing Zombies. His skill at running from danger is only comparable to his skill at running from responsibility. His one weakness is that he believes that the girl he loves will be waiting for him forever. Even if he's never told her he loves her. Or gave her any indication that he'd like to be more than friends. But while he thinks Penelope is safe, in Aubrey Hall under Anthony's protection, he's about to get the surprise of his life when he finds out his Pen snuck out of Aubrey Hall and joined Kate's band of zombies shooting adrenaline junkies. And Colin can't do anything about Penelope's secret vigilante life except try to catch her in the act. Because she doesn't want his protection

An: count this as my official Bridgerton zombie apocalypse au

#bridgerton #zombie apocalypse au #zombie au #Kanthony #polin #Philoise #benophie #Anthony Bridgerton #Kate Sharma #penelope fetherington #Colin Bridgerton #Benedict Bridgerton #Sophie Beckett #Eloise Bridgerton #phillip crane

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gauloiseblue · 22 days

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Ok so, you don't have to do this if you're not accepting requests. But I am way too insane about IOFAB and idk why. It has been in my head since the beginning of May. I couldn't focus for weeks, that's how good it is (it didn't really help that the Kendrick v Drizzy beatdown happened).

Can we have more stuff in the IOFAB verse? Maybe something from König's POV (this guy has to be aware that he's just making her hate him even more)? Maybe life after the last escape/shooting incident can't believe the guy actually did multiple rounds with a bullet in his shoulder that's gotta hurt, pregnancy, or kids? Or maybe domestic horror fluff (if that's actually a thing)? Or something about how he managed to keep reader as his lawfully kidnapped wife (this guy definitely put trackers in her ring)? I just realized that I keep referring to reader/darling as his wife even though they ain't married yet Or maybe even an alternate timeline in which deals with what would happen if they did meet but those guys had to actually disclose that they found those survivors which would mean König would not be able to have her?

IOFAB König is so different from the other yandere Königs because he actually shows his hand right in the beginning. Like he's not just some oWo shy guy that is a yandere that goes “maybe I should keep you here with me so that you wouldn't leave me, schatz haha jk... unless 🙂”. He just straight up “You're with me now. Sooner you accept it, the better it will be for you”. He wouldn't hurt reader but he definitely wouldn't hesitate to drop kick a kitten or even his children if they would somehow aid her in her escape.

Something something he would put the world at her feet but wouldn't ever let her see her family ever again. Something something you could put the world through eternal winter and starvation but he won't ever let his goddess go, not even for 6 months. Something something he would hunt her down in their next life. Something something God never blessed him so he's taking one of His blessed angels for himself. Something something he's worshipping the ground her chained feet walk on. Ok now this is getting too long. In short, this guy warrants the “Why are you like this” microscope and “You're not a human nor a dog but a secret third thing” and you don't have to but if you want to, please please please please please can we have more IOFAB?

Zero, you're now officially the number one fans of IOFAB XD idk if I should be glad or concerned about it.

I mean, if you wanna theorize about their future and stuff, I'll gladly answer it. But for me, the story already ended here. I don't really plan to write a continuation of it. Maybe I'll write a lil bit of it in other people's POVs but that's it.

As for König's POV, I think we've covered a lot about his psychology. Like, of course he knew she hated him, but it wouldn't last. If he keeps on giving her what she needs (tolerance, space, care, etc), she'll eventually come to love him, or at least tolerate his presence. It's like a 'trust the process' situation.

I won't really write about pregnancy and kids, because it's more fun when I let the reader decide what's best for her. My actual HC is she'll only have 1 kid, and it's a boy. That's it.

There are 3 endings that I've thought about, it's either; (1) she manages to escape with the help of the maid (The Handmaiden storyline, wlw), (2) she's staying with him until the end (Göth's dream), (3) she's rescued by the third party, there's a possibility that he or the reader dies in this scenario (the realistic ending). But I won't make either of them canon, bc where's the fun in that?

As for the AUs, I haven't got the right idea for it. I think yours is good, but I honestly don't know where to start 😅

Personally, in my humblest opinion, I think shy yandere shouldn't exist in fiction. I fucking hate it, because it's very manipulative in the cheapest way. Like, they'd appear "harmless" like a weirdo, but would go 180° at any given chance. And what makes me hate them the most is that they'd go back to their shy shell when they're being cornered. They can't and won't take any responsibility for their actions. Oh, he kissed you without your consent? Well, that's your fault bc you seduced him (even if you didn't). Every time I read about a shy yandere man, I just wanna bash his head with a bat. Like, you're not fooling anyone with that attitude. Just take what you want and admit it, even if it means you have to be ruthless.

I must admit, IOFAB König does hold a "secret third thing" vibe, because I don't think he exists irl in terms of personality. He's like, if patience is taken too far, and if patience is the source of horror. He doesn't really worship her, but he views her as the rarest and the most exotic thing. If you ever read about the exotic animal keeper, or the curator of the rarest arts, then you'll understand why he behaves that way. They're very patient, and they're very possessive of their treasure. If the tiger that they keep bites their arm, they won't put it down. They'll find a way to tame it—they'll try to win its affection instead. If one particular art requires so much maintenance, and so much cost to keep it in good condition, the curator would pay for it. They won't abandon the art piece, because they know how much it's worth. That's how König views his wife.

I know it sounds like he's objectifying his wife, but sometimes humans love their things more than other humans. I'm just using that feeling as the base for IOFAB König.

Maybe I'll write about the domestic horror stuff, but I still don't know how, so no promise 🤔

#little-shit-with-zero-control ask #cod #call of duty #konig x reader #IOFAB #personal rant

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