#perspective flip

[tortoisebore]

PERSPECTIVE FLIP — REMUS — DOOR SCENE

specific & unusual asks game!!!

OFJFHFJEJFDHDHHFFHFH

disclaimer: this is like 2,200 words bc i got carried away and wrote it all in one go on my lunch break. i think it got rid of all my italics in the copy/paste process & i don’t want to take the time to fix it and it is NOT edited and most likely NOT properly aligned to the actual door scene but………,,,,.here u go

(nsfw-ish) (they’re doing lots n lots of kissin)

Sirius was stuttering, fumbling, flailing and covering his face and Remus couldn’t breathe. Words kept spilling from his lips, slipped through his fingers and lay heavy and stagnant in the air between them, but Remus was catching about every other word—maybe less—because this was sounding too much like a confession, too much like an explosion of the exact same type of desperation that had been burrowing restless and hungry in Remus’ chest for two months.

“—and I know it’s selfish for me to disappear and come back again just because you make me feel better, I know that.” Sirius’ voice was frantic, high, too fast.

Remus’ vision was narrowing.

“I don’t want to do that to you but I am selfish, and I missed you, and I needed you, and I can’t—I don’t want there to be nothing, Remus, but I can’t—”

Sirius was still going, still stuttering through that mess of a monologue but Remus’ brain had slammed the brakes, caught at the words ‘I needed you’ and refused to let them go. His heart dropped to the floor, his stomach lurched so hard it hurt and his fingers began buzzing with the same kind of adrenaline he felt before tip off—I needed you.

I needed you.

Sirius stopped abruptly, had said something about ‘stop fucking talking,’ and covered his mouth with his hand, was staring wide-eyed at the baseboards, and Remus wanted to devour him. Wanted to touch and mark and scratch and pull and consume. It enveloped him, blurred everything in his vision besides Sirius’ form across the room, tense, nervous—watched through what felt like a thick fog of want, need as Sirius glanced up, looked at him—

And Remus was gone.

There was no stopping it this time. No convincing himself he was imagining this, no control over the twitch in his fingers, over his mouth as “Sirius,” left his lips before he could think to stop it. It was the only word he knew, the only word he needed—Sirius, Sirius. Sirius.

“Yeah?” And his voice was so small, so timid that the sappy, hopelessly enamored thing in Remus’ chest screamed, banged against his ribs, begged him to go.

“Tell me if I’m wrong.”

It didn’t make sense even in his own head—he hadn’t so much as moved an inch but Sirius was staring at him, unblinking and breathtaking, and nothing could make sense when they were this far apart. Remus couldn’t think with this amount of space between them, needed to be close so bad that for a moment he thought it might kill him.

Sirius said something else, something that sounded like ‘what?’ but wasn’t entirely coherent through the fog around Remus’ head, didn’t even register as a word when all five of his senses were tunnelling, trapped and sucked into the black hole on the other side of the room, and then he was moving. Crossing the space between them, charging towards the black hole, begging to be consumed and ripped apart.

He blinked and his hand was on Sirius’ face—gorgeous, flushed skin hot against his fingers, a pulse flickering wildly against his palm that he wanted to bite, wanted to sink his teeth into, and then he said it again.

“Tell me if I’m wrong.”

It made more sense now, here—Remus was begging to be told no, to be pushed away and forced to stop before the want pulsing hard in his blood pulled him under entirely. His control was wearing thinner by the second, hanging by a thread with that pulse against his skin, the dark, wide set of Sirius’ eyes, the freckle just below the shadow of his lashes that had taunted Remus’ daydreams for months, the slight part of his lips—and he was holding his breath. Waiting, and Remus couldn’t fucking do it anymore. He gave in, let the screaming thing in his chest pull him under, and kissed Sirius.

His skin burned with it, wanted more more more the second their lips brushed but it only took a split second to register that Sirius wasn’t kissing him back. Dread slid down his spine like ice, froze his heart and hurt, and he pulled back fast and looked away, ready to apologize, ready to let Sirius leave—

But then Sirius’ cool fingers were wrapped around his wrist, pressing to his pulse and holding him there, pinning him. Remus didn’t want to have to explain, didn’t want to have to admit that he’d thought of nothing but kissing Sirius for the better part of a month and a half—wanted to worm out of his grip, hide and never come out—until he met Sirius’ eyes again.

His expression hadn’t changed—frozen, wide, dark eyes with a slight ring of gray around blown-out pupils, parted lips that Remus had felt against his own, would never forget the taste of. Sirius shook his head a little, just barely, and breathed a quiet little ‘no’ that Remus didn’t know what to do with. He watched, waited, held his breath, and in the span of a single blink, Sirius was on him again. Pulling him down, letting him in, kissing him back, and Remus’ brain fucking exploded.

And he could have cried, could have fallen to his knees because Sirius was so soft—his lips and his skin and his hair, all soft and malleable beneath Remus’ hands as he finally let himself touch. Sirius’ pulse was still hammering against his palms and within seconds he was making the sweetest little gasps, exhales in the shape of short puffs of breath against Remus’ skin, quick inhales in between kisses. And then Sirius was chasing after him, pulling him closer, silently asking for more with a brush of his tongue across Remus’ lip that nearly had him falling over.

White-hot heat slid down his spine and a low noise left Remus’ throat before he had a chance to stop it. He would have taken a moment to be embarrassed about it if his brain didn’t shut off again at the feel of Sirius’ lip between his teeth, if he didn’t pull something high and breathy from Sirius’ own mouth in return.

He was considering backing Sirius into the wall, or the door—maybe he could fumble his way blindly towards the kitchen and get him bent back over a counter—when Sirius pulled at his hands, tugging them away from his face. The dread was back for a second, cold and icy, ready to drop and send him running, but then Sirius’ arms were flinging around his shoulders, fingers slipping into his hair, nails scratching against the back of his neck, and Remus was on fire again.

He let himself pull Sirius in, got his hands to work with him and slip down Sirius’ back, and he wanted to scream at the feel of his body beneath them. Slight but strong, lean and almost willowy, and he was thinking ahead again, wondering if he could get away with slipping a hand under the back of his shirt, when Sirius’ tongue was back against his lip and the want pulled Remus under again.

Somewhere in the back of his head he was aware that he was moving, pushing Sirius in a random direction until his back hit something solid that Remus hoped was a wall, but his brain went blissfully, beautifully blank the second he let himself taste Sirius’ tongue. And Sirius melted into it, went lax against the wall or the door or wherever the fuck they were and gripped harder at Remus’ hair, pulled another low sound from his throat. He was breathing hard, panting into Remus’ mouth but chasing after him when he tried to pull away and let him catch his breath.

Then it was hands—Sirius’ hands sliding down the sides of his neck and to his chest, pressing firm and then grabbing, slipping low enough that Remus’ fingers went a little shaky before they pushed up under his shirt, cool against his burning skin. And Remus fucking moaned with it, a humiliatingly needy sound that would have made him want to sink through the floor if Sirius didn’t gasp with it, make a sweet little noise of his own and drag his nails down Remus’ stomach in reward, and—

Oh, Remus was going to go fucking insane—he was going to lose his entire goddamn mind and it was Sirius’ fault—instead of feeling satiated with the closeness, satisfied with the feel of Sirius’ hands on his body, his tongue in his mouth, Remus burned with hunger. Need to be closer, need to touch and kiss and taste and mark every inch of his skin, to swallow whole and consume and devour. He’d never needed someone like this before—never felt so entirely overcome with desire even while holding their face and shuddering against their hands on his skin. He felt afraid of the feeling for a moment, in the split second in between biting a little too hard at Sirius’ lip and gasping at the feel of his thumbs toying just under the waistband of his sweats. But there was no place for fear here, there wasn’t room to second-guess or doubt, so Remus gave into it, let it continue to pull him under, would let it tug at his limbs and threaten to drown him until Sirius told him to stop.

He listened when that screaming thing in his chest told him more, let his hands trip down the backs of Sirius’ thighs and tried to mumble some kind of halfhearted request against his lips that he was sure got lost on the way out but Sirius got it anyways—of course he did. Remus pulled him up, felt Sirius’ arms tight around his neck as they found an easy balance and oh, this was better. Sirius pinned against the wall, taller now to give Remus’ neck a break, hands in his hair as Remus’ fingers gripped at his thighs, and yes. This was so much better.

Sirius—gorgeous, smart, fucking perfect Sirius—let his head fall back against the door, pulled in sharp breaths and Remus’ vision narrowed to the pale expanse of his neck, begging to be kissed and licked and bitten, and he thought he might have groaned when he pressed his lips to the line of Sirius’ jaw, worked across to his ear and took a moment to let his teeth catch on the closest piercing. If his eyes had been open they would have rolled back in his head at the taste of his skin, hot and sickly sweet as Remus licked across his pulse and became instantly obsessed with the feel of his hammering heartbeat beneath his tongue.

And Sirius was making the most perfect noises, whimpers and gasps and gorgeous little hums when Remus gave in and sucked a faint mark to his pulse, kissed and tasted the skin around it in some twisted form of apology. His hands were back in Remus’ hair, tangling through it in little jerks in time with his heaving breaths. Then he tugged sharp, pulled Remus away from attacking his neck and kissed him hard, opened his mouth instantly, soft and pliant and perfect.

Remus was thinking about the logistics of getting his fingers on Sirius’ skin, wondering if he could pin him against the wall hard enough to slip a hand under his hoodie when Sirius delivered a sharp, hard tug to his hair. His skin lit up, burned like he’d been electrocuted and his hips jolted forward with it and burned hotter still at the sound Sirius made against his mouth. Every thought in Remus’ head jumped to that feeling, to the noises spilling into his open mouth and the white-hot desire sliding up and down his spine as he did it again—pressed Sirius further into the door, created the friction they’d both unknowingly been craving. He couldn’t stop—did it again and again and again until Sirius was whining against his lips with every thrust forward, until he found enough balance within the rhythm of it to get a hand under Sirius’ hoodie, to press his fingers into his skin and feel all the bone and muscle and blood beneath it, to wonder what it looked like.

He wanted to see, needed to know what his hands looked like on Sirius’ body, needed another glimpse at the tattoo he knew was just under his fingers, needed to watch Sirius writhe and arch and come apart under his touch. Wanted to put him back together when he was done and exist in all the fracture lines left behind.

Remus was working out whether his room or the kitchen counter would be closest—he still had no fucking idea where they were in the hallway, figured his room was probably closest but involved more turns he didn’t feel confident he could achieve blind, but setting up shop on the kitchen counter left less room to spread out. Maybe he could knock all the shit off the table in the corner—he could find another laptop if that one broke in the fall, no problem—

Before he could decide whether the kitchen table was the right height to reach Sirius from his knees, there was a sharp knock on the other side of the wall that sent his heart dropping to his stomach and his body jolting away from Sirius.

They pulled apart so fast that the back of Sirius’ head thunked against what Remus could now see was the dark wood of the front door. Sirius was panting, lips bitten red and spit-slick and perfect, cheeks flushed a gorgeous shade of pink, eyes dark and wide as he froze and stared at Remus in silence.

#u ask tortoise answers #hey sharpshooter rambles #perspective flip

[blorbocedes]

i would DIE if you did a small perspective flip from his eyes are like angels his heart is cold

i actually had to look up the mafia au to remember it's from carlos pov 😭 so here's a little lando excerpt from the gala:

Lando is always wondering what if he forgets how to use a car when he has to drive Carlos Sr. Being his personal driver is a signed of being the favoured Ferrari Academy driver. As if Carlos practically moving him in his rooms didn't give that away. The other guys at the Academy think he slept his way into this position, well why don't they try to drive the Father of Ferrari's second son and risk crashing.

Carlos Sr, the intimidating force of a man, had taken one look at the blood red badge of the bull silhouette pinned on Lando and it was like, he knew. Like it was printed on Lando's face, "your son just gave me a weird handjob and I think he said I love you." Sr does not say a word, the one Sainz who believes in keeping his distance from 'the help.' Lando's ears were pink the whole time, like he was carrying a time bomb of a secret.

Lando parks beside Carlos' 488, the whole parking lot looking like a vintage car show as Italia's rich and famous came to play. He enters through the back entrance meant for staff — the Academy boys aren't to be seen, except for the ones that are good for PR, the success story public face like Charles. At the actual red carpet, Carlos and Charles are getting photographed; in their matching suits and Carlos' hand resting on Charles' waist. They're giving a speech on the charity gala hopes to support orphans or their youth outreach program for endangered sports cars, which makes Lando scoff. If only they knew how the Ferrari Driving Academy treated their orphans.

Unlike Charles, who would and has bled red for the House, Lando has no undying loyalty. He's grateful, of course, for being picked but he never had the delusion of racing dangled over him. If he's loyal to anything, he guesses it's Carlos. The guy shaved his initials into Lando, he can take a hint. Carlos was the one who taught him how to drive stick when the Academy had near given up on him, at how nervous he was. And now, the only place he's at home is behind the wheel. Even the Sainz sisters fussed him around like a little brother, or a puppy. They took him in when they didn't have to, and that's why Lando has to leave.

Carlos had taken the news well, kind of, Lando hopes. The move to McLaren. Charles was right when he told Lando he's Carlos' biggest liability, who is going to take the Second Son seriously when Carlos needs to constantly protect him and keep him within the family. At least, this way, Lando can repay his debt to Ferrari. Carlos protects him, why can't he protect Carlos? By driving for the enemy two continents and an ocean away?

Lando watches from the balcony that's closed off for guests. Carlos in his element, charming the guests in smooth conversational Italian. (Lando's is still hopeless, he gave up after subject verb agreements.) A balding politician, and his much younger wife and Carlos making her kiss the dice before throwing it on the craps table. She has an arm around him, and with the way her husband is staring it seems like he wouldn't mind watching. In the other end of the room, Charles is sneaking off with the racing world's latest World Champion and who was his main rival; Max Verstappen. Lando wonders if he can get an autograph.

"Little Lando, nice to finally catch you here." A distinctly American drawl seizes his attention. Zak Brown, in his slicked back silver hair and orange tie, brown suit. The CEO of McLaren, whose official business is weapons manufacturing for the American government -- which unofficially make their way in war zones and cartel violence -- with new interest in automation and a racing team. Just like Lando's 'official' job with them would be on loan from Ferrari as a test driver, and unofficially drive said contraband across the borders. It's more interesting Daniel — the marketable face of the company, like Carlos and Charles are for Ferrari even if it is the elders and Sr who really pull the strings — isn't here. "You've cost me a pretty penny, let me tell you, but I think we'll be doing great things for each other."

Lando reaches out to shake his soon-to-be new boss' hand, sliding his business card in his back pocket.

#mafia au #perspective flip #this makes more sense if you've read the fic #does anybody care this au i do 🥹 #carlando #f1 rpf #my fics #blorbocedes ask #anon you owe me feedback everyone else keep scrolling

[dddragoni-drabbles]

Callum felt the eyes on him moments before he heard the rusting in the bushes. He slowed his pace, glancing around at the surrounding trees. Nothing.

"Hello?" He called. His voice echoed through the woods. No response. Just his imagination, then. Callum shivered, pulling his coat tighter around him. Taking a shortcut this late at night had been a mistake, his nerves were starting to get to him. He'd better get home before-

"HeLLoOOoo?" The voice dripped from the darkness, reverberating with an unnatural warble. Callum nearly leaped out of his skin, raising his arms high, palms out in surrender.

"I'm sorry!" He cried, spotting movement out of the corner of his eye. "I didn't mean to trespass, you can take my wallet, take anyhting you want, just please don't..."

His voice trailed off as someone- something- emerged from the darkness. It was tall- impossibly tall, fifteen feet feet at least, to the point where until it moved he'd mistaken its sihlouette for that of a tree. It was roughly humanoid in shape, with long, spindly arms dangling down almost to the ground, but it was entirely featureless, its entire body covered in a shimmering blue pattern that shifted and flowed across its form.

Callum started to scream, stumbling backwards, until the thing held out one its arms towards him, palm up.

It was holding a Big Mac.

The scream died in Callum's throat as his brain short circuited. What was... How was... Why was... WHAT???

His fear overwhelmed by the sheer incredulity of it all, Callum found himself stepping closer to the being to get a closer look. Yeah... that was a Big Mac all right. The smell of cooked meat, the warmth radiating off of it, the works. He glanced up at the being's featureless face. Did it want him to take it? As if in answer, it moved its hand a few inches closer to him.

Gingerly, he reached out and grabbed the burger. His thinking mind still caught up in the mix of terror and confusion, he did the first thing his instincts told him to do and took a bite. It tasted fine- nothing incredible, but better than anything he'd gotten from an actial McDonalds in a while.

As he chewed, the being reached out and genrly ran its hand along the top and side of his head. He froze instinctively, but it made no move to grab or hurt him, leaving a strange tingling sensation where the it made contant with his skin. After a few seconds of this, it stood back to its full height, then melted back into the darkness.

Callum stared at the spot where it had been, then swallowed. IF not for the hamburger he was still holding, he would have thought the whole thing was some kind of hallucination.

No one was ever going to believe him.

(x)

#microfiction #original writing #spooky #humans and aliens #zat and zot #callum ferrus #perspective flip

[drabbles-mc]

Ohhhhhh ok for the ask game can I get a perspective flip for the fic fineapple? I think it’d be hilarious

Omg you certainly can! Plus this gave me an excuse to go back and reread Fineapple again and I'll never say no to that! 😂🍍

Also, shout-out to @withmyteeth because her response to this fic when I posted it forever ago has lived in my head rent free ever since and definitely made the cut into this version of the fic lmao 😂💕

Perspective Flip: I’ll write a scene from [that fic] from another character’s point-of-view (Find the ask game Here)

(This got away from me a bit, so I put it under a cut hahaha. Hope you enjoy! xo)

Angel had never been a morning person the way that you were. For a little while, he tried, but eventually came to the conclusion that it was no use. So when he'd woken up to an empty bed that morning, he wasn't surprised or worried, especially not when he could hear the faint sounds of the shower coming from down the hall. He knew that by the time the evening rolled around the roles would be reversed--you'd be passed out on the couch while he was still sitting next to you, wide awake and losing feeling in his arm because you were leaning against it cutting off the circulation.

By the time you were finished with your shower and dressed, he was already cooking. He'd never been a great chef, but he could handle breakfast. He could handle French toast without burning the house down.

Most of his focus was dedicated to the stove, but once he saw you out of the corner of your eye, swaying to a song that was only playing on the inside of your head, he couldn't help but to let himself get a little distracted. He could barely hear the sound of the blender in the background as he watch you on the brink of dancing. The smile that stretched across his face was involuntary, one that almost made his face hurt because of how much happiness and love was bubbling up in his chest, even if he hadn't figured out how to tell you that yet.

"What?" your voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

Shaking his head, he still couldn't tone down his smile as he said, "Nothin’. Just, you look so happy with your fruits over there, that’s all."

He was perfectly content to listen to the laugh you let out at his statement. He was able to divert enough of his attention to you and the smoothie you'd made him, strayed from the stove just long enough to try it and figure out that he liked it before going back to cooking. Even when he wasn't looking at you anymore, he still joked with you, gave you grief about leaving him out of the smoothie loop for so long, making it seem like you were keeping some grand secret from him.

"Pineapple is good for you, you know," you told him.

He laughed at the seemingly obvious statement, feeling like maybe you were just getting on his case for never eating healthy foods. "Isn't all fruit good for you?"

"Yea, but..." you trailed off, which got him to spare a look over at you just long enough to see the confusion on your face. "Do you not know what they say about pineapple?"

He didn't. He had no fucking clue what people said about pineapple. He couldn't hide that from the expression on his face, either. "The fuck do they say about pineapple?"

You laughed, not in a way that was mocking, but just in amusement. "Google it later."

He shook his head as he looked back at the stove, taking the last of the food off of it and killing the flame. He didn't say it out loud, but all he could think was "I WILL Google it later."

After breakfast, when the two of you had decided what you were doing with your day, Angel watched you disappear out of the kitchen and head towards the bedroom to get changed. The second you were completely out of sight, he instantly pulled out his phone and opened up Google.

He frowned in thought as he typed out, "what do they say about pineapple?" He felt utterly ridiculous, but he was too curious now to bail on finding out. Part of him was expecting to see a bunch of search results talking about vitamins and clear skin and whatever the fuck else people always said fruits could do for you.

What he wasn't expecting was the first article in the search results to be titled, "Here's the Truth About Pineapples and Oral Sex". His eyes nearly popped completely out of his skull as he clicked on it. He was skimming over the article, already charging to the other end of the house to find you as he did.

"Babe!" He all but threw himself into the room and across the bed to reach you and put the screen of his phone uncomfortably close to your face. "Is this true?"

He saw the way that you were fighting back your laughter, shoulders trembling with effort, but you weren't denying it. He felt like there was so much that he was supposed to be doing with this newly-found information, but he didn't know what.

Tossing his phone onto the bed, he grabbed your shoulders, looking dramatically into your eyes as he said, "We need to buy every pineapple at the store today. I’ll eat a whole one every day."

He could tell by the look on your face that you thought he was exaggerating, but he really was ready and willing to figure out how to eat a whole pineapple every day without losing his mind. He moved his hands so that he was cupping your face instead. "It's for science, querida. We gotta do our research."

You just laughed, nodded, and gave him a kiss as you agreed with him. When you returned to the task of getting dressed, he turned and quickly snatched his phone off the bed, opening up the group chat he had with the rest of the guys in the club and dropping the link to the article into it.

He sent the follow-up text, "You guys see this shit? 🍍=👍🏻🍆??"

He vaguely heard you ask the question about what he was doing. His eyes were still glued to his phone, watching the three little dots appear as everyone started typing out their replies. "Puttin' this shit in the group chat. The guys gotta know about this."

He could hear you laughing at the lot of them, but he was too busy watching all of the replies come in one after the other.

Coco: "I don't buy it. Old wives tale."

Gilly: "Too bad pineapple sucks bro 🙄"

EZ: "You guys just figuring this out? 😂"

Gilly: "Too bad you still can't get fuckin laid boy scout"

Angel shook his head at all of them as he replied to all of them in one fell swoop, "Losers. I'll let yall know after i get my dick sucked FOR SCIENCE. 👍🏻🍆🍍"

#mayans mc #mayans fx #mayansmc #mayans mc fanfic #angel reyes #angel reyes x you #angel reyes x reader #ask #asks #fineapple #my writing #drabblesmc #perspective flip #anonymous

[wyattjohnston]

Perspective Flip if you please?

Anything from the very first installation of Tyson and Flick 💚

this ended up being longer than the actual section of the fic lmao

perspective flip: tyson teaches flick how to paddleboard—tyson's pov.

series: this is getting good now

ask game

The mid-afternoon sun was as hot as Tyson could remember it being. It was certainly the hottest it had been all summer. Going down to the lake was never a decision anyone argued against and with the way the temperature was going they’d be there until after the sun went down.

Tyson was the last to leave the house because he’d made a detour back to his room after spying Flick walking down the stairs wearing a red bikini—the colour-blind glasses were probably too much of a giveaway, given that they were going to be swimming, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t constantly curious as to what it looked like for real.

In the water, Mat was teaching Cheyenne how to stand-up paddleboard and judging by how dry her hair was, it was going quite well. At the end of the jetty, Flick was sitting Tito, their legs dangling in the water and even from a distance Tyson was hung up on the red  bikini. Although, that would have been the case whether he was wearing the glasses or not.

Tyson met Kerf on the sand, and was not at all expecting the poke directly to the bridge of the glasses as Kerf asked, purposely loud enough to draw the attention of everyone else, “Are those the colour glasses?”

Before Tyson could react or respond, Kerf’s entire hand was covering his face and Tyson swatted it away with an annoyed groan as he was forced to fix how the glasses sat on his face.

“Wanted to see Okanagan for real,” he said defensively.

He didn’t appreciate Kerf’s sarcastic and knowing nod, or the way he looked over at Flick and smirked, “Nothing to do with Flick’s penchant for red?”

Tyson looked to Flick, catching her gaze only briefly before she snapped her head back to look at the water.

Shamelessly Tyson said, “Maybe.”

When Tito dived into the water, Tyson took the opportunity to sit in the empty space beside Flick. He hadn’t missed the way she crossed her arms and leant forward—her anxieties were well known amongst the group and it wasn’t much of a leap for him to assume that extended to her self-confidence.

He thought she was crazy for it, for ever doubting that she was the best looking person in the room—he knew it wasn’t that easy, though.

“You don’t want to paddle board?” he asked, hoping to distract Flick.

Cheyenne was wobbling on the paddle board out on the water; Mat seconds away from laughing his ass off.

“I never learned,” she revealed in a small voice, sounding a little embarrassed though that might not have been because of the paddle boarding.

Tyson capitalised on the opportunity, though, excited by his own idea, and all but shouted, “You should’ve said something, I would have taught you last year. I’ll teach you now! It’s just balance!”

“Oh, no—I don’t—” she stumbled over her words. “I would already know if I wanted—”

“Doesn’t it look like so much fun, though?” he asked gently. “I’m a good teacher.”

His eyes never left her, even as she stared at her toes. To prevent her from getting caught in her head, he poked her in the side  and she kicked the water so hard that water splashed up over the both of them. She glared at him, only for him to smile at her innocently and gesture to the water with a hopeful nod.

He followed her gaze back to the water, where Cheyenne was straddling the board and Mat was leaning up on his forearms to kiss her.

Tyson prodded Flick again, “See. It’s so much fun.”

Maybe he could pull the same move as Mat had—might be a little more difficult because Cheyenne had been leaning into it and Tyson still wasn’t absolutely sure Flick was as interested in him as he was her. He could dream.

Flick was pushing herself up, “Fine. Teach me how to paddle board.”

“Hey, Barzal!” Tyson shouted, filled with joy as he jumped to his feet, too. “We need the board!”

Without much care, he threw the glasses onto the dock and threw himself into the water, swimming to the paddleboard as Cheyenne fell sideways into the water.

“If she gets hurt; you have to live with that,” Mat said, talking about Flick.

“She’s not going to get hurt,” Tyson scoffed, despite the very real possibility—if anyone was going to hurt themselves it would be Hurricane Felicity.

Not on his watch.

Flick was swimming towards him and had put a shirt on—a disappointment, to be sure. She was at the paddleboard, pushing herself onto it easily, and his brain nearly short-circuited when he noticed what shirt she’d picked up.

It had to be Kerf’s shirt because Tyson hadn’t worn one down but the Colorado Avalanche branding across her chest hit something primal in Tyson’s brain in such an intense way that he wasn’t sure any words were going to come out of his mouth. If they did… they probably wouldn’t do him any favours in not scaring her off.

“I don’t want to get burnt,” she muttered, her chin tucked against her chest as her cheeks turned red. Tyson just nodded slowly.

Tyson hadn’t thought about what it would take to teach another person how to paddleboard which was a minor oversight because it hadn’t been the real intention behind it. Finding excuses to spend time alone with Flick was his plan going into the summer and he was going to take the opportunities where he could get them.

“You’ve got this, you’re fine,” Tyson said, touching Flick’s ankle and feeling her shaking with nerves. “Fall into the water and you can’t get hurt.”

It didn’t look like she believed him when he said that, but her little huff hit him square in the chest and he flexed his hand against her ankle.

She only fell off entirely a couple of times, mostly spending her time kneeling on the board and trying to get her hands underneath her. She wasn’t doing a horrible job and Tyson was disappointed by that, by how soon his lesson was going to end.

That didn’t stop the absolute excitement that coursed through him as she stood up straight and gingerly reached out to take the paddle, he was holding up for her. After a couple smooth strokes and ten seconds of successful balancing, she threw her hands into the air with a cheer. She then immediately fell into the water beside him, narrowly missing his head with the paddle.

“Let’s go, Flick!” he shouted when her head emerged from the water and he had no hesitation in pulling her into a hug as they treaded water.

Just as quick as Tyson had pulled her into the hug, Flick was pulling away. She muttered something, quick and harried, and then she was swimming towards the beach.

Tyson stayed in the water, one hand on the paddleboard and paddle, the other waving pathetically at her as she emerged from the water and sprinted up the sand then the grass hill.

He was as confused as he was worried, as was everyone else judging by the confused looks going around the group. He swam back to the jetty with the board and waited for somebody to tell him if Flick had said anything as she left—but nobody had a clue.

“I’ll give her a minute and go check on her,” he said, staring up at the house.

#demi answers a question #💚 anon #tyson jost fic #tyson jost imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #homemade fic #perspective flip #this is getting good now fic

[starzzach]

Perspective Flip! for that one 'piarles' fic. you know the one :D

hi c darling! sorry this is so late :( i was busy :(

(also... i never wanted to touch this fic again. but for u. i will do it. also bc i saw this and the fic formed in my mind)

anyway here you go :p

Charles thinks he found out about Pierre's crush on him before even Pierre himself.

Despite his many misgivings, and the rumours circulating around the paddock and amongst the fans that he is always the last to know about everything, that he never notices when someone is obviously flirting with him - Charles is not thick.

He knows when people want to be with him. He knows that Carlos is buying him flowers because he wants to be his boyfriend. And he knows Pierre flirts with him without realising because that is how Pierre works, he does things without realising it because he can't admit it to himself.

So, yes, Charles knows that Carlos wants to fuck him, and that Pierre wants to marry him.

Maybe it makes him a bad person. Yes, he's selfish - he wants to be with Carlos and he wants Pierre to be his best friend. He couldn't do half of the things he does without Pierre by his side. He wouldn't be this happy about losing if Carlos wasn't his teammate.

Charles is stuck in the middle and he's perfectly happy where he is.

(But everyone around him suffers.)

---

Charles ends up in Pierre's apartment during the summer break. He'd been presented with a very bad excuse about a painting that Charles had seen through the moment the lie slipped from his teeth, but he'd smiled anyway and agreed.

He thinks he's done a pretty good job of not talking about Carlos until Pierre interrupts him and says, "Is there anything else you want to talk about or do you want to talk about Carlos the whole time?"

His smile drops. Shit. "I haven't been-"

“I know so much about Carlos and I am not even good friends with him,” Pierre continues, and Charles can see the disgust he holds back at Carlos' name. “Seriously, I’m fine to listen to you about anything," lie, "but if there’s something more you want to, like, say about him…” yes I do but-

Pierre stopping him and offering him the chance to talk about his true feelings is a clear sign that Best Friend Charles is begging him to not ignore and screaming at him to not do it, don't do it, Pierre can't take this.

But it's Carlos and he is terrible about holding back about Carlos, so he talks and talks until the smile has been well and truly wiped off of Pierre's face.

It takes Este calling Pierre and Pierre immediately jumping at the chance to do something other than listening to Charles talk about Carlos for Charles to realise what he's done, to realise that Charles and Pierre will never be CharlesandPierre ever again. It scares him how okay he is with the knowledge, knowing that he still has Carlos.

Somewhere deep down, he recognises that Pierre is not the only one lying to himself that things will be okay.

---

"Pierre is in love with me," he tells Carlos after the debrief in Barcelona.

It's cruel, to tell him at his home GP, but it felt like the right time and he was doing a shabby job at keeping things to himself anyway. Carlos shrugs, gives him a small smile and says, "Okay."

There is a fire in his eyes and maybe this is what Pierre sees in him.

#charlos #piarles #? #writing #zach answers asks #perspective flip #charles leclerc #carlos sainz jr #pierre gasly

[rosemaidenvixen]

Perspective Flip from Chapter 6 in A Secret's Worth?

Aww yeah you picked a fun one.

Jim just stared at the numbers on his phone, almost mocking him.

4:27pm

His heart stopped, he could feel the blood draining from his face. The sounds of the theater around him faint and distant.

It couldn't really be that late. He couldn't really be outside the house right now. Because it was going to happen in just a few minutes, and if he was out of the house and it really was that time that meant--

Some far off corner of his brain registered a hand being placed on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry," Claire's voice "I’ve broken curfew a few times, your mom might be mad but it’s n--”

The word 'curfew' snapped him back to reality. Tearing away from the others and sprinting towards the exit, painfully aware of the bright lights and panicked voices behind him.

Gotta get out of here, gotta get home, if you don't--

He fumbled to get his bike free, heartbeat booming in his ears.

"Hey, where’s the fire?" Darci said half jokingly.

Bike free, Jim spared only a second to glance up at the four of them.

They were probably so confused, this wasn't their fault. But he needed to get out of here before he changed and someone saw--

A wave of terror and nausea crashed over him, nearly knocking him and his bike to the ground.

“Sorry but I really need to leave right now,”

Jim pushed off on his bike and started pedaling like mad, barely aware of the shouts behind him.

Hadtogethomehadtogethomhadtogethome

#tales of arcadia #trollhunters #jim lake jr #a secret's worth #sunshine au #rmvspeaks #fanfic asks #author asks #perspective flip

[greensword101]

So, I just read a ficlet about the traditional Hallmark "villain" being dumped in the end and they're actually pretty rational. What I saw involved two "villains" meeting after their "girlfriends" have dumped them after being unfaithful and then starting to fall for each other.

What I really want is for CONSEQUENCES to occur from Designated Heroine's actions. So, here we go.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Sasha lives in Boston and she is stuck in what she deems to be a bland relationship with a guy who is working a lot and doesn't spend as much time with her as he ought to be. Things seem to look up when he proposes and she accepts, but Sasha is still feeling restless and decides to head back to her hometown for Christmas. Her now fiance, John, is unable to make it because of his schedule, and so she goes by herself, frustrated and alone.

She sees John as a boring workaholic, who doesn't give her a passing glance nowadays and doesn't even notice whenever she does her hair. What she DOESN'T recognize is that John HATES his job. He is working many hours because she is a shopaholic and now has dragged them both into debt with her spending habits. He even had to take a second part time job just to make ends meet.

The new scarf she bought for Christmas? That was NOT in their budget plan! The fashion designer clothing she bought in the spur of the moment? She used the credit card meant for emergencies only and now he has to scramble to put out that fire. The new hair style he "didn't notice"? He's been working so many hours on a big project, it was so late when he came back to their apartment, how was he supposed to notice when he was so focused on not collapsing onto the floor?!

And she treats HIM like the bad guy when he complains about her spending habits! Even called him a Scrooge under her breath when she thought he didn't hear her. He mentioned this to his friends and coworkers and family and wonders AITA for being concerned about money and not being kicked out of their nice apartment and onto the streets? And their credit score will be affected too, if she doesn't stop with using their credit cards so frivolously.

There are a few naysayers, but the majority of his audience had told him he's NTA and needs to talk to Sasha about his concerns. Not that she's listened and only seems to dig in her heels even further, no matter how patient John has been.

So, the trip to her hometown that he couldn't make? Fine, let her cool down for a few weeks. Let her catch up with her family. Maybe she's just been as stressed about bills as he has been and is trying to break out of her bad spending habits. They can both cool off and when he can meet up with her on Christmas, things will look up. Or so he hopes against hope.

The most he was expecting was just a short term peace before their problems start up again. After all, she did get a FIRST CLASS TICKET back for some reason - why did she need a plane ride home, the bus would have been cheaper and she could have looked at the scenery. But he refrains from texting her about it. He is going to give her space, he is not going to be nitpicking every little thing she does because if he can succeed with this project at work, it will mean a big promotion and pay raise.

As stated before, he hates his job. It's draining him emotionally. If he were in a better financial state, he would consider reaching out to a therapist, but Sasha would start nagging him about how "overdramatic" he's acting and to "get over it".

So, aside from the plane ticket, there are no further issues for the next two weeks. He texts her once in a while, just seeing how she's doing and also called her when he got out of work early one day. She never responds to his texts or his one phonecall. Okay, he chalks it up to bad wifi at Cape Cod, maybe she isn't able to get a reception there.

Project is done and he is even promoted! He calls Sasha again to inform her of this, but she doesn't seem to share his enthusiasm. John is confused. He is going to get paid more and one of his supervisors has noticed that he's been working a lot of hours and promised to work out a more reasonable schedule. He thought she'd be happy about that. And there's the Christmas bonus, too, it was a good chunk of change. She seems happy until he admits that he had to use it all for the bills and that's when she gets snappy with him and hangs up. She gives a flimsy excuse - "my mom's calling me" - and he knows it's about the money.

John thought she'd be relieved about their financial woes being lessened by a nice little windfall. 'Probably thinks I'm being a Scrooge', he thinks with a little more bitterness than he anticipated. The day comes when he can get to her hometown and because they are still not out of the woods with the debt - there is still a few bills they are still going to have to pay off - John decides to take a bus. It's long and cold, but he's fine with that. Snow won't start falling until the evening, right around the time he gets there. It will be a white Christmas.

Sasha is at the stop and seems to be completely surprised that he was on the bus altogether. John starts to get a headache already. She KNEW he was coming when the project was done, why is she acting like he was stalking her? Was she thinking he was going to decide to stay in Boston and spend Christmas by himself while she was with her family here?

Things remain tense as they head to a party her family was hosting. It looked like a nice house. Why didn't she ever bring it up with him in the past five years they were together? And then things just become awful John meets this new friend of Sasha's. Some weird guy named Jack who seemed to have aspirations to become the next Joker with all of the smiling he was doing. And acting so intimate with Sasha too, like they had known each other for years. And Sasha didn't seem to mind, either, when she would NEVER let John give her so much as a brief hug once in a while.

'Who the fuck is this creep?!' John thinks, dread filling him more by the minute. When he introduces himself to Sasha's family, none of them seem that enthusiastic about him. Did Sasha ever tell them about him at all? He had introduced her to his parents and brought her over for family gatherings and Thanksgiving this year too.

He needs some fresh air, it was so noisy and he needed to clear his head. Maybe something bad had happened? Maybe Jack was just an old friend. And gay too! Not that there was anything wrong with that. Because there was no way Sasha had been CHEATING on him and had suddenly fallen in love with someone she had known for two weeks at best, right? Right?!

But this somehow seems to send a different message to Sasha, as she saw him leaving the noisy party filled with complete strangers and assumed he was being bitter at Christmas.

Sasha catches him right as he is decompressing outside in the cold. She acts awkward with him, and evasive when he tries asking her about how she's been enjoying herself. And hoping that she will act like the supportive fiance and future wife he is hoping to spend the rest of his life with. The one thing she doesn't bring up at all is Jack. And all he did was ask her about him. Were they childhood friends?

She gets aggressive with him all of a sudden. Telling him to stop "ruining" her life and to "grow up", whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. John is feeling his blood boil. He had been in a bus for hours, cold and hungry. And he had just about had enough of her behavior and started to verbally push back at her and calling her out on HER selfish behavior. If he wasn't about to end the engagement right then and there because he realizes that she never loved him, then seeing Jack come out and physically assault him while Sasha stands there doing nothing certainly did.

She looks triumphant, begins to tell him that the engagement is over and that she loves Jack.

Only she didn't realize that the commotion from their yelling and Jack assaulting John had people coming out of the house and crowding them. John is absolutely humiliated that a crowd of strangers is seeing him bruised and sobbing uncontrollably. He was in a town with no friendly faces, his fiance had been cheating on him and had her two week lover attack him. He's expecting cheers from the crowd. What he wasn't expecting was for Sasha's mother to ask her in a chilly tone.

"You're engaged to this man?"

And he realizes as someone comes to his aid and starts checking on his bruises while someone else starts to call the police, Sasha's mother wasn't upset about him or his supposed failings. As it turned out, Sasha hadn't told her family that she was seeing anyone at all and that her sister had unwittingly introduced her to Jack because she thought they would get along.

And said sister was the one checking him over and looking white in the face, apologizing over and over again. That she had no idea, she wouldn't have done that if she had known about John in the first place.

Sasha acts defiant towards her mother, but finds herself without allies now. She thought she had been bonding with the townspeople and reconnecting with old friends and making peace with some quirky enemies, like some grouchy old man who as it turned out, was annoyed with her antics because he was Jewish and didn't celebrate Christmas. He had only started relaxing when he thought she was getting the message, but it turned out she thought he had suffered some tragedy on Christmas and that it was her duty to help him regain that "love" for the holiday.

Sasha's antics with the town were actually quite grating and the people only held their tongues for the sake of her family. But this last stunt was the last straw now that they realize that she had been hiding quite a few things from her. Her protests are ignored when the police arrive to arrest Jack and take statements and John doesn't even let the officer finish asking if he wants to press charges or not with a loud "YES!"

Sasha attempting to appeal to the police officers to let Jack go and let Christmas back into their hearts only leads to herself getting arrested for obstruction of justice when she tries to make it out that John had somehow been harassing her and stalking her. Only for her engagement ring matches the one John was still wearing and her phone showed their pictures together.

As she is forced into the police car, John throws his ring at her head and stalks off. Her family feels horrible about the whole situation and apologize profusely, the sister particularly so. They had no idea what Sasha had been up to for the past several years, nor were they pleased when they learn about her spending habits putting so much strain on John.

The sister is a big help with helping box Sasha's things from the apartment, and turns out to be a pleasant women, if a little shy. The family help with the bills, promising that Sasha was going to pay him back every cent and return the things she had so carelessly purchased this month. Only good thing to come from her shopaholic tendencies was that she always kept the receipts.

John and Sasha's sister - Anya - do become friends in spite of what happened. But considering the stress he had endured from Sasha and the therapy he was now free to undertake, he needed a long break from romance for a while.

He had to move out of the apartment and quit the part time job. His promotion might have paid more, but it wouldn't cover the cost now that Sasha wasn't living there anymore.

It took three years before Sasha finally paid him back for everything she purchased under their credit cards, especially with her family browbeating her into doing so. She and Jack did marry for a time in the end, but his charm had only been an act and they were unhappily married for about another year after the debt with John had been cleared before they filed for a divorce for irreconcilable differences.

As for John, he did find love again after much space and healing. And with another guy, too, with a similar tale with a court case that was still going on. But his lawyers were confident that they would win it, considering the amount of evidence proving the crazy ex girlfriend had wrecked his car, assaulted his person and even stole his stuff when he confronted her for cheating behind his back.

What was it about going to small hometowns for the holidays that brought out the worst in people?!

#hallmark christmas movies #how it should have ended #fix fic #perspective flip #christmas #romance #hallmark channel

[endoftheworldhere]

I feel SO greedy but... Perspective Flip of the brief Wylan and Jesper encounter at the end of Bright Morning Stars???

This was a lot of fun, in that it's also heart wrenching. Typical Bright Morning Stars warnings apply

Jesper can’t breathe. 

Van Eck’s words are ringing in his ears, ugly things he’d never thought he’d hear from anyone in the Capitol, let alone the president of the entire fucking country, and he can feel tears in his eyes, hot burning tears of shame and panic. 

“Fine,” he manages to get out, surprised to find out his voice isn’t shaking, and he manages to put enough anger in his voice to spit the words out, making Van Eck lean away from him a little, pale blue eyes sharp with disdain. “Fine. I agree.”

Van Eck looks away from him then, not that it makes Jesper feel any better—he’s being dismissed, not respected, and there’s no fear or intimidation on Van Eck’s face. “That’s all I need from you then,” he says, flicking his fingers in Jesper’s direction. “Feel free to go back to your mentor, I’m sure she’s expecting you.” 

Seeder. Saints, Seeder, he’s going to have to face Seeder, answer when she asks him how the meeting went—he closes his eyes, stomach twisting, and the photo of Da crumples in his fist. Da—how is he supposed to face him, either, with this hanging over his head?

“You’re dismissed, Mr. Fahey,” Van Eck repeats, and Jesper jumps to his feet, telling himself he’s not running, and throws the door open, nearly hitting someone in the face.

Wylan Van Eck jumps back, blue eyes—the same pale shade as his father’s—going wide. “Are you alright?’ he asks, and Jesper can’t stop himself. 

“Am I—Am I alright?” Jesper could scream, might actually be screaming—it’s hard to tell how loud he is, with his blood rushing in his ears. “Am I alright?”

He starts laughing with that, laughing because if he doesn’t laugh he’ll cry, and if he starts crying he’ll never stop. Wylan just watches him with those same blue eyes, holding himself perfectly still, like Jesper’s a wounded animal, ready to lash out at any sudden movements. Maybe he will—he feels like he could, if someone tries to touch him, feels like he could rip them to pieces. “Am I alright—saints above, Van Eck, are you cruel or just stupid?”

Wylan flinches, even though Jesper’s not moved, like it’s his words that’ve hurt him, and his eyes somehow manage to go even wider, making him look like a kicked puppy. Like a kicked puppy he leans forward again despite the warnings Jesper's given him, clearing his throat, hands held up defensively, like he’s the reasonable one, like he’s not one of them. “I—”

“I don’t care,” Jesper says, and he doesn’t, he’s not going to let anyone from the Capitol claim the high ground in this situation. “I don’t care, I’ve already said yes, get out of my way and give me my six months, damnit!” Six months, he only gets six months, like that’s supposed to be some sort of gift instead of a stay of execution, something he’s supposed to be grateful for, and he could scream, he could throw things, he could grab his bow back from whatever Games museum that they’ve put it in and shoot them all dead. He shoves Wylan back, putting all the force he can behind it, and takes some small pleasure in the rush of air that leaves him as his back hits the wall, the way he flinches away and doesn’t meet his eyes. “Fuck you, Van Eck,” he hisses, putting all the venom he can behind it, all the helpless anger and fear and exhaustion he can't do anything about. “Just—fuck you. Don’t fucking talk to me. Ever. I don’t want your fake sympathy. I don’t want anything any of you can give me.”

#ask game #oneofthewednesdays #bright morning stars #perspective flip

[lnights]

well I meant in general but if you wanted to make it about Wolfpack I wouldn't be mad about it 👀

Cuddly wolves it is.

...

Aleksi woke softly, it wasn't the first time he had woken in the pack's embrace, but this time he had no desire to run away.

They knew everything now and they had still wanted him, had still claimed his as part of their pack, and he wasn't going to run anymore.

He looked around lazily, he had so many arms wrapped around his middle, his chest, and even a hand splayed on his thigh. His legs were hopelessly tangled with everyone (Joel's legs really were long to be able to stretch like that) and he felt so right being there...

With a small jolt he realized Niko was awake, smiling at him sleepily. He smiled back, feeling his cheeks going pink when he realized none of them were wearing shirts, himself included; he hadn't worried about it the previous night, had just needed the comfort they promised after the emotional talk, them all happy to provide.

He realized he was fine with it, and leaned back into whomever he was laying against, Tommi he was pretty sure, and went back to sleep, comfortable in a way he had never been before.

#answered asks #mini fic #perspective flip

[absolute-hooligan]

Fun fact: I found out David tennant has a podcast with a guest that cycles out each episode (it’s very good, you should go listen) and one of them has Neil in it!

You can yell at me if this is old news now but this little bit about “have a nice doomsday” and episode threes cold open is so… agh, I love it

(hearing about Neil’s writing process in general is also incredibly neat)

#good omens #david tennant #neil gaiman #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #the rest of the episode is also fantastic #the sheer about of information about their relationship from a writer perspective and actor perspective is awesome #I also adore the sandman talk lol #tags are showing me that everyone else flipped their shit at seeing all the guests too lmao #billie piper oliva colman catherine Tate and Michael are all also good ones #PS they’re all good #OH AND FUCKIN JUDI DENCH #hooligan uses words

[drabbles-mc]

Hi! Hope your day is going well! For the ask game could you do a perspective flip for « Better than him » Please? That’s my favorite fic of yours💕

You're so sweet! I most definitely can! I'm not gonna do a flip for the whole fic because that was a long fic and it was a beast to write even though I thoroughly enjoyed it hahaha. But here are a couple scenes from it from Angel's POV from Better Than Him! (you can find the ask game Here)

Coming back to add an extra comment after writing the perspective flip: Just want to say that I really fucking LOVED writing his POV on this. A little humor, a little angst. I just. Yes. This was fun lmao.

With everything that was happening around him in the clubhouse, Angel was surprised that he even felt his phone going off inside the pocket of his kutte. Beer in one hand, he used the other to fish it out, almost rejecting the call out of instinct until he saw that it was your name on the screen. He caught himself smiling, a strange kind of hopeful as he answered.

"You change your mind about the party?" he asked, pinning the phone as close as he could to his ear to try and muffle the background noise around him.

Your reply was short, mumbled, not nearly matching the emotion he'd answered with as you said, "No."

The disappointment in your voice threw him off. He tried to pull answers out of you, somewhat successful in his attempts, as he tossed his beer bottle back onto the bar and made his way towards the door of the clubhouse. As soon as he opened the door, everything already felt quieter, your soft voice already seeming louder in his ear. He was glad that you couldn't see the look on his face as he listened to you talk about the fact that your boyfriend had bailed on another date night. He rolled his eyes, shook his head at you. Mostly, though, he was glad that you couldn't see the frown on his face.

"I don't wanna hear it," you said, trying your best to sound annoyed but he wasn't buying it.

Your tone got a smirk out of him, another expression he was glad that you couldn't see. "What do you wanna hear then, hm?" he goaded, a little braver and more flirtatious than he had any right to be with you.

When you asked if he wanted to come over, of course his knee-jerk reaction was to say yes. He didn't want to give in without a little bit of a fight, though, didn't want to seem too eager. He knew that it was bad enough that he was so excited at the prospect of it in the first place, so ready and willing to say yes.

~*~

Nothing about his entire evening with you had gone the way that he thought it would. Over and over again he found himself in moments that he knew should've made him backpedal. But it felt too late to do that now, with his hands up underneath your skirt, with his heart pounding rapidly against the confines of his ribcage.

Part of him was still waiting for it to be a cruel trick on your part, a gotcha moment, something to ensure that you weren't going to suffer alone in your disappointment of the evening. The farther his hands traveled, the more he found himself waiting for you to stop him, to push him away, to go to bat for your shitty boyfriend who should've been the one in Angel's position, with his fingertips running over the lace of your underwear. But you didn't say anything. You just watched him, the slightly dazed look already on your face making Angel feel like his skin was coated in flames.

Each time he asked to make sure, he was waiting for you to rescind the offer. What was happening now between the two of you felt like something out of his own playbook, not yours. He didn't want to ruin it for himself but he couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that you were letting this happen, that you wanted this to happen.

But then he heard you moan, the sound better than any time he'd try to imagine it, and he knew that he wasn't going to cost himself what might be his only chance to feel you, taste you, have you, outside the confines of his own imagination.

~*~

When it was all said and done, and Angel was getting himself redressed, he found himself caught somewhere between relieved and anxious. All the times he'd thought about you, about having you the way he did, and he finally got you. It was better than he could've ever dreamt of on his own. But there was still a nagging sensation in the back of his mind because he knew that this whole situation was either going to end up being disappointing for him, or extremely fucking messy.

He could see the apprehension on your face when he asked you about it, and he tried not to let himself feel too disappointed, or show it at all. He knew that this was a possibility. He was no stranger to the rejection, to the feeling of being used. He just didn't like the idea of you being the one using him.

"So, what," you said, and he could feel you studying his expression, "you think I should just leave him and be with you?"

What he wanted to say was, "Fucking obviously," but he knew that wouldn't do him any good. Instead, he said, "I didn’t say that. I mean, you should," he laughed, "but I didn’t say that. Him being a waste of your time has nothing to do with me."

"Really? This feels like it has a lot to do with you."

"Yea, 'cause I was inside you like two fuckin' minutes ago." He paused, hiding how deeply he was trying to think of the right things to say with getting himself dressed and situated. "You gotta make that choice. I'll be here no matter what you end up doing, but this is your mess to figure out."

He meant it, too. If this ended up just being something that you needed, a distraction, something to make yourself feel better, he'd take that on the chin and keep going. He cared about you enough to stick around after the fact, even if you didn't care about him the same way. He didn't want to spell it all out for you like that, though. That felt too much like pressure for both of you. He wanted you. Of course he wanted you. But if he couldn't have you, he'd learn to keep living with that.

"Why'd you come over then?" Your question snapped him out of his thoughts.

"I like you." The answer came out so second-nature, a weight to it that he hadn't meant to apply when he said, "You knew that, though."

He saw the shift on your face, almost wanted to take it back. Maybe he'd made it too real, pushed things just a bit too far. Too fucking sentimental for the circumstances the two of you were in.

"I know," you replied, the softness in your voice putting a twinge in his chest.

He changed the subject, lightening the mood the way he always did when he got himself in too deep with something. By the time he was walking out the door, it seemed like you were just saying goodbye after a normal evening of hanging out. He wondered if you were just a really good actor, or if his version of a worst-case scenario was actually coming to fruition. He stuffed down those feelings, leaving you with a smile and a kiss on the forehead rather than all of the things that he really wanted to say, really wanted to give you.

He lingered outside your closed door for a moment, thinking back on everything that had happened. His heart was still working double-time in his chest. Shaking his head at himself, he tried to remember to enjoy what he'd had with you while he had it. If he was lucky, or just really fucking reckless, maybe he'd get to have it with you again.

#ask #asks #mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc fanfic #angel reyes #angel reyes x you #angel reyes x reader #perspective flip #my writing #drabblesmc #anonymous

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

years later someone buys the plot, turns on the lights and is suddenly worshipped as a sun god by a bunch of puppets falling apart at the seams

pov you break into the spooky abandoned Playfellow Studios building for shits and giggles

#lore tidbit! the plot is not available for purchase #the building is only Technically abandoned. its still very much Owned private property! #actually ive been thinking about the Other side of this au. the people's perspective #cause in this au at least they all Knew the puppets were alive #many employees - especially the ones working 'closest' to the puppets - put up a huge fight when the show got canceled #but it was either Disassemble (kill) Them or Lock Them Away #and honestly? killing the neighbors would've been somewhat of a mercy #but the employees had no way of knowing just how Bad things would get #wh lights out au #scribble salad #and i mean. the building's electricity bill remains paid. #the employees that felt really bad kept it paid over the years - devoting a bit of their income each to it #thinking the puppets would a) be awake & b) be able to figure it out #yeah that's actually a lil fun tragic tidbit as well - if any of the puppets had found the breaker.... #or found it and Messed with it a lil... flipped the right switch... #they would've gotten the lights back on no problem #but yeah anyway ive been Thinking about the employees' side of things a lot #might tie that in with act two. it'd make sense considering the shit that happens #well either they'd help the puppets out or they'd get shoved into one of the sinkholes by barnaby. so. #bc if we're talkin seriously here. the puppets are more likely to kill a person than worship them for any reason #they'd go full 'THREAT!! THREAT!! ELIMINATE THE THREAT!!! WE'RE NOT LOSING ANYONE ELSE!!!' mode

[midnightsslut]

no one asked, but I’ve been thinking a lot about the albatross and its placement on the bargaining playlist. I have come to the conclusion that the song serves as a warning to anyone who tries to avoid/‘imprison’ her. this man was told that she would kill his garden, tempt him, and eventually destroy him. she was a wild wind instead of a normal, harmless rose. yet, he could neither avoid her nor lock her away in a tower. he was too drunk to think his decision through (‘cross your thoughtless heart / only liquor anoints you’). he chose her despite all the warnings he received. he shot all the messengers who tried to persuade him. he couldn’t fully commit to being with her, either, so he locked her away in a tower. ultimately, she was the only one who could protect him from the same men who once condemned her. he chose to be subjected to that danger by being with her (‘the rain is always gonna come if you’re standing with me’ —> ‘I’m the life you chose, and all this terrible danger’). the two characters in the song seem to finally be at peace. however, the outro switches to third person and makes it clear that she will, in fact, destroy him. she is the albatross in his life. he will wear her around his neck forever. he could try to bargain with her all he wants, but he was delusional to think this would end any other way. she is both the angel and the devil in his life. she could protect him from the media attention she subjected him to, but she could simultaneously destroy him by feeding into the rain of fire through her songwriting.

#the albatross #aaaand now I get why it’s one of the bonus tracks #and white horse/coney island foreshadowed this duality in perspectives #white horse is all about the fairytale ending you envisioned crashing down #and coney island is from the perspective of the person who ignored their lover #in the albatross this person tries to ignore her but she visits in his dreams just as her face is the sight that flashed before his in coney #island #and he will not be able to catch her #bc you can’t catch the albatross either #it kinda flips the story of white horse though it’s still a doomed fairytale #anyway #ttpd #white horse #coney island #evermore

[rosemaidenvixen]

Perspective Flip from a chapter in A Secret's Worth

Here's a scene from chapter 28 from Nana Domzalski's POV

"I think this is a great experience for the kids. They're only going to be this young once, it's important that they make the most of it. Don't you think?"

Nancy immediately noticed Barbara's reaction; face going pale, eyes wide, lips agape. But she chose not to comment on it merely keeping a sunny, slightly oblivious, smile fixed on her face.

Women in Barbara's position almost never responded well to being pushed and prodded. More often than not that just drove them further in on themselves.

The best strategy was a gentle approach.

Abruptly the kettle clicked off.

"Oh! Water’s ready, let me pour that for you," Barbara darted around Nancy, jerkily pouring the water into the mugs before grabbing them and hustling into the next room,"

Nancy felt a flash of disappointment before quickly stiffling it and following. She found Barbara sitting on the couch hastily blowing on her mug.

“To get the most flavor the tea needs to steep for seven minutes, then we can taste it straight before doctoring it with sugar and honey,”

Barbara's cheeks pinkened “Of– of course,”

"And don't forget the coaster dearie,"

“R– right,”

Nancy took a seat on the couch next to Barbara, the silence between them stretching longer and longer.

There was no way to be certain, but Nancy would bet her bottom dollar that Barbara had fallen into the trap that so many single mothers did.

Holding on too tight, making your child the center of your world. Building her entire life around caring for her child and completely neglecting herself in the process. Not only was such a mindset unsustainable, it could do irreparable harm.

They'd lived across the street from each other for over a decade, and Nancy must have offered dozens, if not hundreds of helping hands towards Barbara, only to rebuffed each time.

Nancy had tried so hard to be patient, but CPS had gotten involved and stirred things up, and she could tell Barbara was near her breaking point.

Maybe after ten years it was finally time to start pushing.

“I know it can be hard, and I’m not telling you not to worry. Goodness knows even when Toby’s thirty I’ll still worry about him, but there comes a time when you just need to have trust in the child you raised,”

“I do trust Jim," Barbara spoke up abruptly "It’s everyone else out there that I don’t trust, there’s just so many people out there that can–”

Just as suddenly as she'd started Barbara cut herself off, the silence turning strained and tacky.

Meanwhile Nancy was still reeling. In the entire time she'd known her this was the most Barbara had ever opened up to her. Rushing in full steam ahead would still be a terrible idea, but maybe one more gentle touch...

“There are a lot of bad people out there,” Nancy said softly “But more than just trusting him to make good choices, I trust that I taught Toby the right skills and knowledge to keep himself safe when I’m not there,”

More silence, filling the room expectantly while Nancy watched Barbara with baited breath.

After the longest time Barbara reached out and picked up her mug “So tell me about this tea,”

Crushing sorrow and bitter disappointment surged through Nancy "Barbara I--"

The doorbell rang.

#tales of arcadia #trollhunters #barbara lake #nancy domzalski #a secret's worth #sunshine au #rmvspeaks #fanfic asks #author asks #perspective flip

[everythingcatradora]

adora is generally a kind person but she has such an obvious soft spot for catra and it’s so cute… catra will be all grumpy or just nonchalant or something and adora’s just smiling this Specifically For Catra ™️ smile or even with catra’s antics in the horde in their serious training regimens we see that adora still can’t help but still gaze at her fondly like she was whipped!! she would consistently be annoyed with anyone else but she just folds when it comes to catra

#it’s interesting how in a lot of scenes adora’s love is shown in a more quiet way almost compared to catra’s but then the finale flips #that on its head with adora’s perspective #i could write about this forever really #she ra #spop #catradora #adora