#sorry for spamming but i’m just in a writing mood!!

[euphorial-docx]

“Regulus wanted to say Look at me. Look at my arms, the muscle that’s not there but my uncle tells me will appear and fill out those oversized shirts he gave me years ago. Look at me. Do you see strength?”

—random snippet from lmpdt :)

#sorry for spamming what i’m writing right now #i’m just really in a sharing (annoying) mood #fic: la minima parte di te (the least part of you)

[purple-plum-petals]

Hello there, so it’s my first time requesting for you and I read all the rules and I think I’m ready to request, so Glamrock Freddy, Monty, Sunrise and Moondrop x gn! Reader, (separately), where the reader is giving more attention to the animatronics plushies, rather them the real ones, headcanons. Thank you and feel free to ignore if you find this request confusing.

Ps: this message might get spammed, Tumblr is eating my messages lately, so sorry 😅. Anyways, thank you.

—⊱ I’m Right Here ⊰ || Freddy, Monty, Sun, and Moon (Separate) X Reader Headcanons

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮       Character(s): Glamrock Freddy, Montgomery Gator, Daycare Attendant/Sun and Moon (FNaF: Security Breach)        Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns)        Warning(s): Jealousy/Slight Possessiveness, Physical Touch (Hugging, Kissing, etc.) – Besides that, Nothing!        Genre: Headcanons/Scenario, Fluff, Romantic or Platonic Relationship        Word Count: ~1,740 words        Request: “Hello there, so it’s my first time requesting for you and I read all the rules and I think I’m ready to request, so Glamrock Freddy, Monty, Sunrise and Moondrop x gn! Reader, (separately), where the reader is giving more attention to the animatronics plushies, rather them the real ones, headcanons. Thank you and feel free to ignore if you find this request confusing. Ps: this message might get spammed, Tumblr is eating my messages lately, so sorry 😅. Anyways, thank you.”        Author’s Note: Don’t worry, this request wasn’t confusing at all – I actually found it really cute and fairly easy to write (sometimes I like requests that don’t take that much brain power haha)! I know other writers have done similar requests, but I just eat this stuff up every time I see it. There’s just something so funny to me about characters getting jealous over a plushie. I hope you like it, and I hope I was able to do your request justice! FYI: All of the characters can be read platonically, but I did add an extra bullet point for each that leans more into romantic territory and is marked as such! (Also, my Sun and Moon bias is showing.)

      → If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

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     🐻: Freddy doesn’t get jealous very easily; in fact, he’s probably the least possessive animatronic in the entire Pizzaplex (with Chica being a close second)! So, when he notices you fawning over a plushie of himself you bought for yourself at the gift shop, he actually finds it quite adorable. You just look so cute treating the mini/softer version of himself as if it was alive! He may even take a few pictures of the sweet display. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest that you’re excited about your new plushie.

     🐻: However, he does start wondering if you’re trying to make him jealous after a few days of this behavior. In the beginning, he just thought you were excited to have a new stuffed animal for your collection, but he now had a sneaking suspicion that you were doing this on purpose. So, being the mature fellow that he is, Freddy decides to just ask you directly about your behavior. He even tells you that you almost purposefully ignoring him in favor of a stuffed toy makes him feel… not so great.

     🐻: Oh no, your “Make-Freddy-Jealous” plan backfired exponentially – all you ended up doing was make him feel bad! You just wanted to know if he could even feel an emotion like jealousy considering how open and emotionally mature he was… guess you got your answer there. You quickly apologize to Freddy, though, telling him that you could never love a stuffed animal more than you love and care about him. Thankfully Freddy isn’t the type of animatronic to hold a grudge, so your words make his mood brighten immediately. He forgives you fairly quickly since he knows you didn’t mean any harm by your little prank, but he will bring it up in the future to lightheartedly tease you over such a childish stunt.

     🐻 (Romantic Bonus Headcanon): Freddy will just watch you with a somewhat blank stare as you essentially drown the plush in a sea of kisses. There it is, that uncomfortable feeling again… So, he makes his way over to you, gently removing the plush from your grasp and bringing your hands up to cup his face. Freddy smiles at you gently and, with the plushie completely forgotten due to how cute the animatronic in front of you was, you instead started placing kisses all over his faceplate as you both giggle about the absurdity of the situation.

     🐊: Monty was very quickly not happy with the plushie of himself you managed to win in a crane game while you were slacking off taking a break in the Fazcade. At first, he felt his ego soar when he noticed how happy you were to have a smaller stuffed version of himself as you showed it off to him and some of his bandmates, but that feeling quickly faded with all of the attention you were currently giving it and not him (Monty is the complete opposite of Freddy when it comes to jealousy). You two were supposed to be playing golf, not fawning over some stupid doll.

     🐊: He fairly quickly comes up with an idea to get rid of the thing so you two could continue on with your usual hangout routine. Without much more thought to his plan, he goes to enact it. Monty points out something across the course and, when your attention is diverted, he “accidentally” knocks your plushie out of your hands and into the chlorinated water that weaves in and out of the golf course. At first, he finds the look on your face funny, but that’s quickly replaced with guilt when he sees your eyes start tearing up.

     🐊: He quickly grabs the plushie from the water and, with you following close behind him, takes it to one of the staff break rooms where a washer and dryer were located (they were there in case your uniform got dirty in one way or another – it was an establishment primarily for kids, after all, so stains were quite common). He apologizes in a painfully Monty way and, after some more crocodile tears from you, you eventually accept his apology when your beloved prize comes out of the dryer unscathed and only smelling slightly like a public pool. Not that much different from the real thing, honestly.

     🐊 (Romantic Bonus Headcanon): As soon as Monty sees you place a single kiss on the plushie’s face, it’s over for the poor thing. The exact moment your lips make contact with the cottony material, it is hastily grabbed out of your hands and flung across the room, bouncing off the wall with a comedic squeak. It’s unscathed since Monty knows how much you like the stupid thing, but he’s not letting you go near it for the rest of the night. He’ll just fling himself across your lap, making you essentially stuck in place as he demands to have your undivided attention.

     ☀️: When he sees you holding and doting over a stuffed version of himself one of the kids gave to you as a present, Sun feels his non-existent heart soar over the metaphorical moon; you just looked so cute playing with the mini Sun plushie alongside the children! However, once all the kids had left with their respective guardians, you were still playing with the doll. Well, that was strange – normally you’d be spending the last half hour of your shift spending one-on-one time with him. As more time passed and the time for you to clock out was nearing, Sun took it into his own hands to get your attention back on him.

     ☀️: Sun made his way over to you with a smile, easily snatching the plush from your hands and running around the daycare with it in his grasp. If you weren’t going to pay attention to him yourself, he just had to make you! You do as he expected, chasing him around almost as if you two were playing tag (or more in this case keep away). This isn’t quite what he wanted, but Sun was glad you were at least spending time with him, even if said time was mostly you yelling at him as you took time to catch your breath after running around for however long.

     ☀️: For good measure, Sun even puts the plush in timeout on a shelf far above where you could grab it without the need for a stepstool; it was a pain how tall the animatronics were sometimes (plus the fact you couldn’t find a single stepstool in the entire daycare). With crossed arms and a stern façade, Sun asks why bother playing with something that can’t even play back. After all, he thought you liked spending time with him before your shift ended! Believe it or not, Sun has a slight manipulative streak and, since he knows you have a soft spot for him, it doesn’t take very much convincing for you to spend the rest of your shift making arts and crafts rather than fawning over a plushie.

     ☀️ (Romantic Bonus Headcanon): Sun stares you down like a hawk from across the daycare as you place feathery kisses all over the face of the mini Sun. Thankfully the children were gone, so now he could enact his revenge for having to see you fawn over the plush for the past however many hours. Sun makes his way over to you and, without any warning, lifts you up in his arms and holds you the exact same way you’re holding the doll in your hands, placing his unique “kisses” all over your face just as you had done to the plush. Eventually the stuffed toy is forgotten in favor of giving your favorite animatronic your undivided attention.

     🌙: Moon pretty much immediately knows you’re up to something due to the strange amount of attention you were giving the small plushie version of himself. He’s sitting on the floor, cradling one of the children who is fast asleep in his arms as he glared at you from across the daycare. You were babying the mini Moon doll, giving it more attention than you had ever given him. As much as he hated to admit it, it was quite an annoying sight to see. He had no clue why he was becoming jealous over a plush, but he needed to get rid of the thing fast.

     🌙: Gently setting the child down on the soft mat in front of him, Moon silently made his way over to where you were sitting as you fiddled with the small bell on the plushie’s hat. You didn’t even notice Moon approaching until the plush was ripped out of your hands, the small bell jingling as Moon dangled it above your head with a smirk. You were going to shout at him, but he quickly cut that idea off by placing a finger to his mouth and making a “shh” noise between his closed teeth.

     🌙: However, no matter how much you quietly pleaded for him to give it back, Moon drew his arm back and flung the plushie over the glass walls. It landed in the net that surrounded the daycare and now had to sit there before you’d be able to retrieve it after closing. Moon didn’t feel bad in the slightest since you’d easily be able to get it back, but now you were ignoring him on purpose. Oh well, he’s sure you’ll get over it before the night ended. If you gave him the silent treatment for days, however, he would eventually apologize for throwing your stupid doll into the net.

     🌙 (Romantic Bonus Headcanon): The lights were off and you two were finally able to have some time to spend with one another, but here you were kissing a doll of the very animatronic you were supposed to be hanging out with right at that moment. Was Moon jealous over a stuffed toy? Perhaps he was, but he knew a fairly easy way to get your attention back on him. Walking over to where you were currently sitting, Moon sat down beside you and wormed his way into your lap, grabbing your face after batting the plush out of your hands before pulling you down and placing a feathery light kiss on your lips. Now that was certainly one way to get your attention, but it definitely worked out in the end.

#🌸 . Plum Writes #💌 . Anon #fnaf x reader #freddy x reader #glamrock freddy x reader #monty x reader #montgomery gator x reader #sun x reader #sunrise x reader #sundrop x reader #moon x reader #moondrop x reader #freddy fazbear #glamrock freddy #monty #montgomery gator #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sunrise #fnaf moondrop #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf security breach #fnaf fanfic #fnaf fluff #fnaf imagines #fnaf headcanons #security breach x reader

[runnning-outof-time]

For the ‘little intimate things that leave me breathless’ thing, could you do “having a piece of hair brushed off your face as you're reading or looking down.” With Tommy pretty please if you are able! 💖 Thank you!

Thanks so much for sending this in, anon! I’m sorry it took so long for me to write — I hope you enjoy this fluffy piece! Also sorry one last time for the spamming of stories that I’ve been doing … I hope it hasn’t been overwhelming, and that the reason behind me wanting to clear out my asks and drafts will make sense tomorrow. Enjoy! 🥰

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

A Good Look

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: smoking

Summary: Tommy tries to smooth-talk his way back into a good standing with (Y/N). It doesn’t quite go the way he hopes it would…or maybe it does.

(Y/N) was engrossed in the ledgers when the sound of the door opening echoed through the otherwise empty betting shop floor. She didn’t bother to look up, knowing exactly who had entered from the sound of the shoes on the hardwood alone.

She continued reading as Tommy took a seat in the chair across from her, hearing him go about fishing his cigarettes out of his pocket so that he could put one between his lips and light it with a match. It was only after he asked “what is that?” that she brought her eyes up to meet his.

“The ledger from the Eden Club,” she answered flatly, holding his gaze for a moment before dropping it back down to the paper.

“Why do you have it?” was his next question.

“Arthur gave it to me…he wanted to have someone check it over to make sure it was done properly,” she answered, her words making him scoff.

“Bloody Arthur,” he mumbled, shaking his head, “he probably didn’t look it over in the first place.” His statement made (Y/N) glance up at him again, her eyebrows raising as he continued to mumble something about how he should have never trusted his brother with such a big responsibility.

Not saying anything in response, (Y/N) shook her head at her husband’s mutterings before focusing herself on the ledger again. She read a few more lines, focused on the numbers and the meanings behind them, before she felt the strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face being tucked behind her ear. When she looked up, she found Tommy moving back to sit normally again after having leaned over the table. “What was that for?” she couldn’t help but ask, an eyebrow quirked.

“Just wanted to get a good look at you, love…haven’t seen you in a few days,” he answered, the right corner of his lips tugging upwards. (Y/N) couldn’t help but snort at his statement. Her reaction filled Tommy with confusion. “What?” he had to ask. Usually his smooth-talking would be met with an equally as smooth and flirty response, or at the very least a grin. So to get the complete opposite this time sent his mind into a whirl.

“Schmoozing me isn’t going to make this go away that easily, Thomas,” she told him, pressing her lips into a tight line.

“Make what go away?”

“That stunt you and your brothers pulled at the Eden Club before taking it from Sabini…” she didn’t hesitate in spelling it out for him, “there’s about a million better ways that you could have gone about that.”

Tommy sighed almost immediately after hearing the reason behind her sour mood. “(Y/N)…” he started, taking a deep drag from his cigarette before he continued - because he most certainly needed it, “we needed to show Sabini that we were serious. We didn’t enter that club with the intention of having things go the way we did…”

“Sure,” (Y/N) was quick to cut into this explanation, sarcasm laced into her voice.

“It’s the truth,” he defended himself.

“You don’t go anywhere without a plan, Tommy, and you know damn well that your plan’s going to work the way you want it to ninety-nine percent of the time. You entered that club with the intention of making a violent statement, and you and your brothers succeeded in pulling it off.”

Silence fell in the room after (Y/N) finished her frustrated statement. They kept their eyes on each other, watching the other’s moves intently; looking for any possible microexpression.

It wasn’t until Tommy glanced down at the ledger that the silence was broken: “you’re unhappy with how we went about our business there, but yet you’re still checking over the club’s ledger,” he pointed out, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Tommy…” (Y/N) said in a huff, annoyed that he had to be so cocky, but yet so right.

He said nothing in response and instead relaxed back into the chair, clasping his hands over his abdomen. The smirk that was threatening to break into his face was in full view now.

“Have you gotten your good look yet?” (Y/N) broke the silence, her one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

“Hmm?” Tommy hummed, amusement clear in his voice.

(Y/N) huffed at his response. “Will you get outta here so that I can finish this up?” she asked a different question, trying not to completely crack her countenance.

Ever the betting man, Tommy tried to wage a deal: “Depends, will I see you later?”

“If you leave now?” she asked, seeing him nod before it was her turn to grin, “maybe.”

“Alright then,” he nodded, standing from the chair to go to the door of the shop. He turned to look at her before leaving, seeing that she had already dove back into checking the ledger. He just had to get one more good look at her before leaving.

(Y/N) shook her head as she heard the door to the shop shut. That was one way to get rid of him, she thought to herself with a grin.

———

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @youtifulsunshinelixfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

[hey-kae]

Secrets He’ll Keep

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female reader

Storyline: Charles finds himself struggling to control his reaction when you call him late at night, drunk and crying into the phone.

Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating.

Sidenote: No one asked for this but i’m in the mood to write angst and no one is requesting any. I’m sorry in advance ‘cause this was painful to write.

Any other Saturday, the roles would’ve been reversed and you would’ve been the one repeatedly calling Charles to check if he made it home safely from whatever party he’d be at. For the first time in a while, your monégasque friend was the one sitting anxiously in his apartment, furiously checking his phone to see if you had gotten back to any of his 10 missed calls. With every passing minute of silence on your side, his head got more tangled with unpleasant thoughts and the tight feeling in his chest worsened. It had passed 1 AM and he still hadn’t heard from you, not even a short reply to the nearly endless string of texts he had spammed you with. It worried him sick. He’d understand that you were possibly still at whatever party you were at but he wasn’t at ease knowing that you had been offline for that long, especially when the two of you texted non-stop, even when you weren’t home.

“Come on! Please, pick up.” His anxious state had gotten into him, leaving him in his state of despair, alone in his room at 2AM, begging the phone to let him hear your voice.

“The number that you have dialed is not available at the moment.” The robotic voice talked back to him.

“Fuck!” He cursed and threw the phone onto the bed before he fell back against the mattress himself, wishing he had asked you where you were going.

Sitting there with a heavy head and racing thoughts, he started blaming himself for the state of misery he was in. He should’ve know better. He should’ve set clear limits for himself the minute he felt his heart flutter at the sound of your laughter the first time. He should’ve stopped himself the second he started feeling like he wanted to rip you out of your boyfriend’s arms. But no, he had convinced himself for a while that his reaction was just because he thought you deserved better, only to realize the truth about his feelings months later when it was already too late. He had to go and fall for his best friend. He had to book himself an indefinite amount of time of hidden pain and stolen glances.

His hand pinched the bridge of his nose like a reflex as he sighed, hoping it’ll relieve some of the weight pressing down onto his chest, making it harder for him to breathe with ease.

Forever and a day seemed to have passed before his loud ringtone blared through the dark room. He leaped to grab it, exhaling in partial relief as he read your name on the screen.

“Charles?” Your shaky voice greeted him as soon as he swiped his thumb across the screen. He wanted relief out of this call, not added worry.

“What is wrong, y/n?” His voice was dipped in fear as he heard soft sniffling on your side of the line.

“Can you please-“ you sobbed, “-pick me up?”

It added to his concern when he realized your words were slurred, indicating that you were actually drunk and sobbing into the phone.

“Oh mon Dieu.” Oh my god. He panicked, jumping off the bed and storming out of the bedroom with his car keys tightly clutched in his hand. “Where are you? What is happening? Je t’en prie d’me dire, ma chère.” Please tell me, my dear. The questions in his mind pushed past his lips without his mind’s permission as he sprinted down the stairs.

Meanwhile, your mind had ignored most of what Charles had said, barely managing to slur the club’s address to him.

Charles found himself thanking his Ferrari for the high speeds it could reach as he drove down the highway, doing everything he can to get closer to you as fast as was possible.

He almost lost his mind when he parked the car and spotted you sat on the curb outside the club with your arms wrapped around your knees and mascara staining your cheeks.

“Fuck, fuck…” He repeatedly cursed as he stumbled out of the car and rushed to you with hurried steps, kneeling down in front of you as soon as he reached you.

Looking up at him, your eyes locked with his worried ones, his image blurry to your drunk mind. Nevertheless, it comforted you to see him so close to you.

“Charles…” You wrapped your arms around him, your eyes clouding with tears once again as his scent invaded your senses, enveloping you in a safe bubble.

“Oh mon dieu, what happened?” You felt his hands brush through your hair comfortingly as he whispered soothing words into your ear.

He felt so grateful that you were finally in his arms where he knew he could keep you safe at least for a while. His heart still betrayed him, clenching every time he heard you sob into his chest, your hands clutching onto his shirt, fisting it so desperately like you were clinging onto him for safety. It was fucking with his mind, making him gulp at how cruel this felt.

“Let me take you home, sweetheart.” He softly spoke into your hair, pulling you up and walking you to the car.

He helped you into his passenger seat and pulled on your seatbelt before he got into the driver’s seat, sitting still-as-stone for a few seconds, his hands forcefully gripping the steering wheel as he took deep breaths like he was trying so hard to build up enough strength for what was to come.

With one final sharp inhale, he turned on the car and started driving, trying hard to ignore your small sniffles so he’d be able to focus on driving, but he just couldn’t. The sound was breaking his heart.

“Hey, i’m right here with you. Cry it all out, love.” He reached over and squeezed your hand for a second but it shook his whole body when he felt the both of your hands grip onto his for comfort, leaving him to drive with just one hand. That was no trouble for him. What was troubling him was the way his heart was racing out of control, pounding so hard against his ribcage, making his blood rush with too many unwanted feelings.

“I feel so fucking worthless, Charles.” You cried, subconsciously holding his hand tighter. Had you been sober, these feelings would’ve never been expressed out loud, but your drunk mind lacked a filter.

The words almost made Charles’ world stop. He couldn’t even fathom being able to cope with the fact that someone had made you feel this way.

“What?” He abruptly braked, slowing the car down. He couldn’t decide what he was feeling: rage or heartbreak because, deep down, he knew he could make you feel like you’re worth more than worth the world’s weight in gold but it killed him that he can’t seem to get a chance to do so.

“He cheated on me. We broke up.” Even in your drunk state, you lowered your voice, fully aware of how Charles never approved of your boyfriend.

He was speechless, his grip on the steering wheel tightening by the second as his whole body tensed at the sound of those words.

“Fuck him.” He spitted out the words with pure, unfiltered anger. The sound of the breathless sob that left your lips as you took in the two small words shattered Charles and even more so the little shake of your head as you rejected the statement.

“But, i love him.” The words hang heavily in the small atmosphere of the car. To Charles, they felt like a merciless stab in the stomach. They tugged on his heartstrings and knocked the air right out of his lungs. This was hurting him so bad but he’d never admit that to you, he cared about you too much to do so, even if that meant he’d have to sacrifice a fragment of his sanity to endure the night ahead.

With a painfully tense jaw, he drove you back to his apartment in silence, not acknowledging your request that he drives you back to the flat that you shared with your boyfriend.

His silence was filled with too many thoughts that all had the same conclusion: he had to put his feelings aside and just be there for you tonight, no matter how much it would hurt him.

After parking the car, he basically dragged you up the stairs, the alcohol you had consumed fully having taken over your body after being sat down for the car ride.

He gently guided you to his bathroom, sitting you on the sink counter before grabbing a cotton pad and heading towards you.

“Look at me, love.” He softly spoke, lifting your head to clean the tears and makeup off your face.

“Listen to me, sweetheart. I never want to hear you talk badly about yourself again. Okay?” He started as he began swiping the wet cotton pad across your face, wishing he had some makeup remover he could’ve used to get the job done quicker.

“You are an insanely smart woman with a personality that people would kill to have. You are funny, sensible and understanding. You are kind to everyone, dedicated to everything you’re passionate about and have a heart of gold. You are successful in all that you do and that is really impressive, ma chère. Don’t ever underestimate yourself. Please.” His thumb gently stroked your tear stained cheek, “And don’t get me started on your beauty. You are breathtaking. You are everything anyone would ever want their partner to look like. Perfect hair, beautiful eyes, a time-stopping smile and a laugh that feels like music to the ears, love.” Charles mindlessly spoke as he stood between your legs, dropping one cotton disk after the other onto the floor as he struggled to remove your makeup with only water.

His words made you cry harder, the tears streaming down your face but quickly getting wiped along with the smudged eyeliner and mascara.

“I need you to believe every word because it is all true. It hurts so much to see you cry, especially when eyes like yours should always shine with happiness.” It was getting harder for him to speak, his throat tightening as it revoked the only three words he actually wanted to say. He took a moment, stopping the flow of words as his hands dropped and he quickly faced away from you and looked down, struggling so hard to blink back his own tears, absolutely refusing to set them free right now.

Being there with you, locked together in his bathroom with you so close to him felt like the cruelest torture but a kind he had willingly chosen to endure. You were so close but in all the wrong ways. Your thighs were grazing his waist but it felt like you were the furthest you’ve ever been, not because you had moved away but because Charles’ perception of your closeness had changed. He didn’t want the same thing out of this as he did a few months ago.

He took a sharp, straggled breath that felt like fire in his lungs.

“I just- I’m gonna need you to know you are not worthless; you are worth everything. If he makes you feel any other way, he’s the one that’s worthless.” He continued, throwing away the last used cotton pad he had in his hand.

You didn’t think your actions through, you just leaned forward and hugged him tight.

“I- I wish i would find someone like you.” You slurred to him, the tears coming back stronger as your drunk mind imagined how perfect a relationship with someone who treated you the same way Charles did would feel, the thought of dating the monégasque himself never once crossing your mind.

As dramatic as it sounds, Charles felt his heart drop and shatter, the small shards shredding everything they contacted in their downfall. A tear he had lost control over rolled down his cheek but his arms stayed frozen by his sides, his body going into momentary shock until his mind finally processed the situation. He hugged you just as tight, squeezing you into his chest as he made sure to appreciate every second of the embrace, to memorize the feeling of having you so close, to remember the smell of your perfume.

“Believe me, i wish so too.” He sighed, the air burning his nose as it left his system. The words he had just spoken into existence mocked him, making the bile rise in his throat as he realized how deep in he already was. The safe shore seemed too far away to reach without some sort of miracle. A life without you in it would feel like pure hell, he was aware of that, but right now he wasn’t sure if having to stick to being your friend would feel any better.

He loved you, there was no point in denying himself of admitting that notion to his mind. His heart stung every time you had called him your friend, every time you had cried to him about how bad your relationship was going, every time you kissed his cheek with the same lips that kiss another man’s mouth on the daily. There were times where he felt like he just wanted to wrap you in his arms and cuddle you all night, times where he was desperate to have you by his side as his source of comfort and happiness: after a bad race, during dull days, on lonely rainy mornings in his Monaco apartment, in painful silent nights spent alone in hotel rooms. It was suddenly not enough being your friend. The one-armed hugs you frequently exchanged only felt like a teasing portion of the actual thing, the full on bear hug you had him wrapped in at the moment.

Swallowing away all the thoughts and words on his mind, he kissed the top of your head and closed his eyes, letting all of his senses focus on the way your body was wrapped around his. He didn’t care that your tears were soaking his shirt, he could stay right there forever until the pain you were feeling grew back into delight and the sobs turned into ringing laughs.

Knowing his wishes were so out of reach, he pulled away from the hug and brushed back your tangled hair, all of his energy going into masking his emotions.

“C’mon. Let’s get you to bed.”

His hands held onto your waist as he helped you stand up and head to his bedroom.

You sat on his bed and watched through glazed eyes as he dug through his drawers, eventually pulling out a shirt and some sweatpants and walking over to you.

“You can change into these if you want.” He said, his tone cautious and his voice barely above a whisper. He put the clothes on the bed and turned around so you could change.

You grabbed the shirt, its cool and soft material feeling heavenly against your hot skin, convincing you to get rid of the dress and pull it on.

With your gaze glued onto Charles’ back, you stood up a bit too quickly, the remaining alcohol in your system rushing to your head, causing you to stumble and fall right back onto the bed. The small and seemingly meaningless failure still made you feel like shit, like you were weak and vulnerable and broken, the intoxicating substances you had consumed contributing to the excessive emotions you were feeling. A sharp, loud sob broke the silence in the room as you buried your face in your hands, accepting a new wave of tears.

You didn’t even sense Charles move up to you until you felt the cool material of his rings on your skin as he crouched in front of you, his hands wrapped around your wrists in a desperate attempt to get you to look at him.

His own feelings, he was keeping to himself. He felt like he was drowning in your tears, feeling so powerless as he watched the girl he loved so dearly cry over another guy’s foolishness. He hated that he was feeling everything all at once and so intensely.

“Look at me, sweetheart. Please, look at me.” His words sounded like a weak plea as he pulled on your hands, begging you to let him in. He was so desperate to help but he felt so clueless. In movies he had watched, a breakup was followed by either partying, binge eating or screaming to breakup songs, not intense unstoppable crying. It killed him to see you cry so hard that you were shaking right in front of him while he had no clue what to do.

“S’il te plais, regarde moi. Tu m’brise le coeur, ma chère. Je te supplie de me laisser t’aider. S’il te plais.” Please, look at me. You’re breaking my heart, my dear. I’m begging you to let me help. Please. His desperate state switched him back to his first language as he didn’t allow his mind to think his words through.

You shook your head, not even considering showing anyone your face right now.

“I can’t even dress myself, Charles. I’m never drinking again.” Your voice was muffled by your hands.

“So what? It happens.” Charles tried to comfort you, “Here, i will help you change and I will not look. I promise.”

He immediately regretted his words. He wouldn’t survive that.

“Really?” He heard the faint whisper of your voice and realized it was too late to back out now.

He looked back at you, your hands now in your lap. For a moment, he felt his heart stop, the pained look on your face and the sight of your bloodshot eyes shooting a wave of physical pain down his body, punishing him for feeling things he should’ve never felt.

“Really.” He nodded.

He put his palms out and you held onto his hands and stood up, your touch unknowingly burning his skin at the contact.

His teeth were sinking into his bottom lip, trying to suppress the intensity of the feeling coursing through him as he tilted his head to the side and closed his eyes before he started pulling your dress above your head, feeling your hot skin against his fingertips.

“Give me the shirt, love.” He stretched out his hand to you.

As soon as the soft cotton hit his palm, he blindly pulled it over your head, still making sure not to look, cautious not to see anything he shouldn’t, especially when you were so vulnerable and intoxicated.

Once the shirt was covering your body, he turned to look at your face, finding your glistening eyes admiring him.

“Can you hand me the pants now?”

You nodded and did just that.

He closed his eyes again and kneeled in front of you, lifting one of your legs to slip it into the sweatpants. Charles felt your hands hold onto his shoulders for support as he pulled the clothing item up your body before opening his eyes to tie the drawstring on the waist.

“There you go.” He attempted a smile.

“I don’t deserve you, Charles.” His smile immediately dropped as he heard the words.

“Sh, don’t say that.” He cooed, pulling you to his chest, his hand tangling itself in your hair, “Tu mérites tout ce qui est bon dans ce monde.” You deserve all that’s good in this universe.

“Thank you for everything.” You spoke into his neck, feeling so loved in his arms.

“No need,” he gulped, knowing the next words would kill him, “that’s what friends are for.” His eyes squeezed shut and his lips pursed as he realized what he just said. He hated the sound of that statement so much.

“You should lay down.” He advised, breaking his contact with your body and pointing towards his bed.

With no further added words, you climbed onto the mattress, curling up against yourself. Charles, for the hundredth time tonight, ignored his aching heart and leaned forward to cover you up with a warm blanket.

“I will be in the living room.” He was met with a protest from you.

“No. Please, stay.” You asked him with a shaky voice, patting the empty space beside you.

You weren’t aware of how much he needed to escape this room, how hard it was getting for him to breathe in the heavy air of his bedroom, how shaky his hands had gotten, how messy his thoughts had turned and how weak he felt.

“Stay?” His voice trembled as he dreadfully said the word, the nod he received from you then making him feel like he should expect himself to drop dead any second now.

Sighing, he rid himself of his shoes and climbed into bed beside you, staying painfully away no matter how bad his every sense was begging him to get as close to you as was possible. He knew he wouldn’t handle the drop that he’d have to go through after that.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He tried to fill the silence so he wouldn’t be left alone to his thoughts.

You shook your head no, instead scooting over towards him, hiding your face in his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his torso, seeking comfort in his warmth.

His body froze and his eyes closed like he was in excruciating pain. His heart was beating so fast he had become afraid you’d question it and he’d have to explain how much he was feeling. He just held his breath as tears fell from his closed eyes, hitting the pillow under his head. He did not dare to move a limb. He just laid there in deafening silence, hoping and praying that you would fall asleep fast so he could escape. Sleep wasn’t on his agenda for the night, not when the clock on the wall already read 4AM, the numbers laughing at him, laying there in his misery.

He felt you fiddle with a loose string on his shirt, twirling it between two of your fingers. He felt a few more of your teardrops wet the material as well. Then, he felt your body relax against his, your small movements from before stopping, indicating that you were fast asleep.

“Putain.” Fuck. He cursed to himself, feeling his restraint against his emotions faltering. He could keep up a certain image but for how long? He had reached the limit for the night. He looked down to observe the subject of his adoration, your beauty overwhelming him as usual until your image blurred with his forming tears.

“Comme j’aimerais que tu me laisses te montrer que tu mérites le monde, mon amour.” How I wish you’d let me show you that you deserve the world, my love. His voice broke halfway through the sentence that he whispered to your sleeping figure, knowing he’d never have the courage to say any similar words to you when you were awake. The thought shattered him. He bit his lip to contain the sobs that threatened to shake his body.

“Je t’aime incroyablement, ma chère.” I love you incredibly, my dear. He cried the words into a peck onto your forehead before he slipped out of his own bed, replacing his body with a pillow so you wouldn’t notice his absence.

He stood there, watching you tug the pillow closer to you and bury your face deeper into it then tiptoed his way to the glass slide door leading to the small balcony attached to his bedroom. He stepped out into the chilly air, letting the low temperatures startle his body back into a somewhat normal state. He inhaled the cold air deeply but his lungs exchanged the exhale for a soft, heartbreaking cry that had been postponed enough.

He let the thoughts conquer his mind and let the sobs take over his body. He just leaned over the railing and watched his teardrops fall onto the empty Monte Carlo street. A street looking almost as empty as he felt.

Part 2

#charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagines #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc oneshots #f1 oneshots #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc blurb #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 one shot #f1 x you #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc imagine

[ptergwen]

reader with healing powers. that’s it.

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist

w/c: 347

warnings: angst, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries

a/n: i made this an angsty one because i thought you’d appreciate it hehe i hope you enjoy <3 also sorry for the mini spam i’m back in a writing mood

“it hurts, y/n. it hurts so bad.“

“i know, baby. but i’m gonna fix it.”

“but- but what if it doesn’t work? what’s gonna happen?”

peter is bawling, and he can barely breathe. he’s stripped half naked in his spider-man suit to reveal his wounded abdomen, bleeding all over your covers. he showed up at the avengers compound in bad condition, and he was in even worse condition when you found him.

he’d gotten shot while trying to break up a robbery. the bullet was lodged deep, right between his ribs. you managed to remove the bullet, which wasn’t an easy feat. it took patience, precision, and left peter in excruciating pain. he’s been sobbing the whole time, harder since you removed the bullet.

peter has never been injured this badly before, never to the point that his powers couldn’t heal him.

but your powers can.

“don’t. don’t say that. you’re so strong, peter. you’re gonna get through this.“

peter’s bloodshot eyes lock with yours, whimpers leaving his quivering lips.

“i’m scared.”

it kills you to see your boyfriend like this, but you have to stay focused. he needs you. you put on a brave face and take peter’s hand.

“just look at me.”

you raise your free hand above peter’s abdomen. out of his peripherals, peter sees a flash of light coming from your palm. he wills himself to keep looking into your eyes, squeezing your hand tight as you begin to use your powers on him. it burns, and fresh tears roll down his cheeks, but you seal up the bullet wound.

you place your other hand atop yours and peter’s already connected ones when you’re finished, offering a reassuring smile.

peter touches the spot where he was shot. he’s shocked to feel that the wound is closed, and the pain is fading. he’s in awe of you and your abilities.

“you... you saved me. you saved my life.”

he eases himself to sit up, an arm wrapped around himself for support. you crouch down in front of him, smile widening.

“it’s what i do.”

tags: @mystic-writings @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @jenoslov @crvshnburnn @starlight-starks @belovasheart @liltimmyst @eviewriites @hollandsangel @parkerctrl @eichenhouseproperty @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @varshhyy @magicalxdaydream @tayyx @parkerdadda @valluvsu @ronweasleysslut @peterficrecs @Winchestersgirl222 @sunf1ower-vol6 @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @niktwazny303 @marvelgurl @thismessymasterpiece @sapphic_romanoff @lomlbuckyy @idkeverythingistakennn

#peter parker #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker writing #peter parker x avenger!reader #marvel #mcu #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you

[thedvilsinthedetails]

Heyyyy…

hey my name is Jamie [like for now but I’m kind of testing a few so don’t get too attached to that lmao] I’m genderfluid as fuck [they/she/he]

some typa aroace spectrum probs demisexual & demiromantic also pan - in general I have nothing figured out but also a simp

neurospicy bitch

minor but adults can follow/interact idc tbh

writing request status: OPEN FOR MICROFICS RN

I’m a rosekiller loverrr but also a multi shipper so u never know what ur gonna see ig [but probably Rosekiller, Wolfstar, Dorlene, Starchaser maybe some sunkiller if I’m in the mood etc] for the record just bc I don’t ship smth doesn’t mean I support hating it even as a joke [translation: prongsfoot is chill leave them be]

if u don’t like smth, just ignore it, if u send me hate I’ll reply w shitty jokes probs

This blog supports Palestine btw

This blog supports Ukraine

This blog thinks JK Rowling has negative quantity of brain cells

Anywayyyy now that that’s out the way:

HI! welcome to my crazy blog, I love making friends im not at all scary I promise :D

Btw my inbox is ALWAYS open for spam, ship ramblings [even if it’s not smth I ship], info dropping about ur hyperfixations, venting, questions etc. [the only thing is no illegal ships bc it will be ignored] also sorry pre warning im shit with the inbox chains [‘send this to ten people who…’] so often I won’t answer those sorry, anything else I will make sure to answer but the chains I sometimes just forget about sorryyy

Barty Crouch Jr & James Potter kinnie

I write sometimes:

I fell for you like glitter on stage - rosekiller band au, this was a microfic series on tumblr that I posted on ao3 for convenience [words: 4548] [this is my fav thing I’ve ever written lol]

we are all just prisoners here of our own device - Jegulus, a oneshot on ao3 based on the song ‘hotel California’ by the eagles. [Words: 6162]

Oh where do we begin? The rubble or our sins? - ON HIATUS. Roman Empire Jegulus au with side Rosekiller, Wolfstar and Pandalily on ao3 [words: 6141] [currently I don’t want to write Jegulus - the hyperfixation hath faded]

tags you’ll see on my page:

me and my old black biro > writing tag

Im in love with that Rosier boy > [this is a new one] me having a massive crush on Evan Rosier

the most boring soap opera > my life tag

I have an online diary called @miseryoforpheus if ur fascinated by my charming and irresistible personality

#intro post #new intro post bc my last one was kind of shitty #rosekiller #marauders #slytherin skittles #Spotify

[the0ldmann]

Minors and Ageless blogs DNI, you'll be blocked on sight!

I tried to do something gaslighty, gave up, and wrote something a little more... uh... like two people playing a little bit of a back and forth game? 'Tis short. And fluffy. Little provocative but not explicit.

1,418 words.

Writing below the cut, if that wasn't obvious.

---

You were feeling restless this evening. Nothing good was on TV and you had run out of things to bake until payday. Though it was only recently you had confessed your feelings for Friend, you still felt a little odd bothering him this late at night. Huffing, you scanned your living room for any inspiration to kill your boredom.

That’s when you noticed the bunny plush.

It had been sitting there on a little end table you’d throw your keys and spam mail on for the past couple weeks, overlooking the room. A personal gift from Friend- one of many! He’d sewn you quite a few plushies and you’d finally started running out of room in your bedroom for them. Storage felt a rude solution to store them, so moving them to other rooms was all you could think of.

Quickly, you picked it up, glancing at its eyes when you could without trying to make it obvious. Sitting back down, plush facing away from you, you tried your best to tilt it ever so slightly and get a better look at its eyes.

“They’re just really shiny eye buttons, there’s nothing weird about them.”

That’s what Friend had told you the first time you tried taking a closer look at them. You were absolutely positive they were cameras though, and the looking you were doing now confirmed that.

How could they not be? The eyes looked exactly like the camera on the back of your phone.

An idea came to you.

Friend was always so good at dodging questions. However, you never bothered to press. Everything he said you took at face value- well, most of what he said at least. Otherwise you wouldn’t be thinking about the numerous plush cameras in your place of residence right now.

Seems like bothering him this late was on the agenda anyway. Excitement coursed through your veins as a small smile started to tug at your lips. Could you back Friend into a corner and get him to admit it? Or perhaps get him to admit to something he couldn’t have known without revealing they were cameras?

If you were going to question him, you were going to make this fun though. Those little pink hearts of his were adorable, and while you wouldn’t be able to see them, you wanted to make it hard for him to see through them.

Standing up, you set the bunny on the couch and went to your bedroom. Most of the plushies were turned away, staring into corners and up at the ceiling. Picking out a little green frog holding a mushroom, you set it carefully on the bookshelf by your bed, facing outwards. If the cameras in it hadn’t died, Friend should be able to see you.

If he was looking at whatever computer he had the cameras hooked up to…

A quick text could maybe fix that. This late in the day? He has to be at home right now.

… Right?

Sweet<3: Oh Frieeeeend~

Friend: Someone’s in a good mood I see. What’s up?

Sweet<3: You wouldn’t happen to be at home and on your computer, would you?

You tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Whipping off your pants you sat down on your bed, one leg propped up and hugging it with your arm. Surely this would get his attention. It was only a minute before you got a response.

Friend: Sorry, I had to boot it up. Was there something you wanted to show me? ;P

Of course he wouldn’t let on that easily, but you were determined to try.

Sweet<3: So I’m still not convinced you haven’t sewn cameras in the plushies, but that would actually come in real handy right now.

You could almost hear the sigh coming through his text.

Friend: Again? Would it even be possible to convince you otherwise? They’re just special buttons for a special plush made for a special someone.

A pause. You smirk as you see the three little dots come back up.

Friend: Wait, what do you mean hidden cameras would come in handy right now?

Sweet<3: You’d be able to see if you had them~ ;P

Two could play at that game.

Friend was drumming his fingers as he stared at the screen. He wasn’t about to confirm your suspicions. Seeing you sitting there in your underwear made it hard to not ask what it was you wanted. Clearly you wanted something, and he was going to pry it out. Unlucky for you.

Friend: C’mon Sweetheart! I don’t have them so I clearly can’t see. What is it?

Sweet<3: Hmmm, it’s a little hard to explain through text… You really have to see!

Friend: You’re teasing me, aren’t you?

Sweet<3: Maybe a little. ^u^

Friend: How could you be so mean??

You swear you could see the dramatic hand-over-the-heart he was probably doing right now. Little did you know how patient of a man you were dealing with.

And how quickly his patience had been running out…

Sweet<3: Okay okay, I’m willing to give you a hint.

Friend: Now we’re talkin’!

Sweet<3: Am I wearing pants right now?

Friend: Wha… What kind of a hint is that?

Sweet<3: You don’t need cameras to guess~

Friend: If that’s the case, I’m going to guess you’re not. No reason to ask otherwise, hm?

This was true. You got up, taking your phone with you and walking out of sight. Slowly, you stripped down completely before throwing on a pair of lingerie you recently bought.

Admittedly, you were a little nervous about letting Friend see it, but if you were going to get him to slip up, this was going to be the way.

Friend: Are you still there, love?

Ah, right, you had left him on read in order to change.

Sweet<3: Oh don’t worry, I’m getting ready!

Friend: Getting ready for what, Sweetheart? You saying “don’t worry” worries me greatly.

Sweet<3: I know, but this is a good surprise, promise!

Friend: You gonna send me a picture when you’re ready?

He was already cutting you off before you could get any farther. As you stepped back in the line of sight of the plush, you proceeded to half lay down on the bed. Stroking a thigh while smirking at the camera, you gave him a minute to say anything else.

Nothing else was said. Left to come to your own conclusions, the best you could do was tease him some more.

Sweet<3: If you had to guess what the surprise was to get a picture… What would you guess?

A pause. You were at least making it difficult for him to type.

Friend: Out of all the things this surprise could be, I’ll be left guessing for ages!

Sweet<3: What would you want it to be most right now?

You weren’t entirely sure what you expected him to say. Admitting he liked you took forever for him to do. Seems taking that step had left him feeling bolder.

Friend: Hmm… You dressed up in a really cute outfit. Is that it? Prancing about in front of whatever you think has a camera in it?

Was that a read or really nothing more than a blind guess? You suppose you had pranced about in a cute outfit in front of the cameras a few times before… Wait. Was his guess based on past things he’d seen? Shit, maybe you were more unprepared than you thought…

As concern started to cross your features, another text message came through.

Friend: Oh, I’m so right, aren’t I? Are you taking a pic right now? We could always video chat instead- I know you have a brand new laptop for school.

And as quickly as you were starting to have fun with your little game, he had squashed it. Did he know? He had to have. They were cameras after all! As frustrating as he could be, you were going to get the last word on him. You went back to the living room to dig your laptop out of your bag. Sitting down on the couch, you flipped it open and started up a video call.

“Oh, so you did decide to-”

Friend stops mid sentence to stare, pink hearts already floating around his head growing even more in number.

“What’s the matter,” your tone is coy as you sit a little more provocatively, “cat got your tongue?”

#minors dni #ageless blogs dni #stnaf #friend stnaf #friend love

[luckydinosauur101]

! SPOILER ALERT !

I will be posting about Chapter 17 of “The Rehabilitation of Death” by @Bamsara for probably the next day or 3, including posts rambling about parts of both that chapter and many others before.

Please, if you do not want to be spammed with posts and reblogs; turn off notifications for when I post or something :)

WE STARTING HERE

FIRST OF ALL

Is this a reference to the 5+1 lmao?? Bro you ASKED for them to LITERALLY KILL THEMSELVES TO SEE YOU

SECOND OF ALL

“Without question, he closes them.” This entire chapter I noticed, especially as Narinder got more drunk, he was more willing and compliant with doing whatever Lambert told him to do, no fuss, no question. “Do this.” “Ok.” “Go over there and sit down” “alrighty”. Not even a fuss. I think it just shows how much he truly loves the Lamb, and only his sober pride stops him from just willingly letting Lambert take the lead

Haha cat’s neck goes -snAp- I thought of his head borderline 180’ing here

-Bam self-inserting their own drunken mood cuz they decided to get drunk while writing but then arson collapsed on himself-

I literally just ended up taking a picture of this entire scene here because.

I’m sure. I’m sure you can tell why.

I was listening to

I recommend listening to it it’s pretty good- very fitting to Trod (@-Bamsara again I may or may not have made my own trod playlist for songs I thought fit. And I may or may not like for people to give me their opinions on how they fit :3c)

And so I hit the “I’m sorry” part right before I read the “I relinquish the crown to you”. Fitting. Agonizingly. Fitting

AND AGAIN A LITTLE WAYS DOWN.

“Under all that angst and anger is a beating, human heart” as I read the

F U C K I N G.

“They do not have a heartbeat. They do not have a pulse. They will not rise.”

I HEAR THE LYRICS AS I READ IT.

I needed to take a second.

Because it really.

Really hurt.

That entire scene.

hurt.

#the rehabilitation of death #trod au #spoilers

[lilithvibeplace]

abt me!

heyo! I'm lilith but I also go by tq. this is just a public diary at this point <3

stuff i think is neat!!

-writing, i adore writing. mainly OC writing/short stories & worldbuilding (ask me abt them i beg u)

-ttrpgs (dnd/CoC/soon maybe motw)

-retro tech

-space & nature

-hopeless romanticism & dark academia

-vampires

-collecting older books esp poetry or textbooks (i have many <3)

-vidya games --favs atm: bloodborne, rain world, hollow knight, pathologic, dishonored, (and many more!)

-variety of podcasts but mostly dramas, leftist stuff, & ttrpg liveplays

--favs atm: tma, tmagp, malevolent

other things!!!

-#tqvibe is my personal blog tag, on all my txt posts

-#lilith bangers is any personal post i wanna have available at easy access

-#speaks to me carnally is my "mood" posts, sometimes horny/nsfw

-#tq hyperfixations is my tag for any and all of my interests

-#ex film student vibes is my film-related tag

-#(name) oc is my oc tag

-she/her pronouns are for close friends/mutuals, i don’t really like it if we’re not close and do prefer they/it <3

-i will occasionally liveblog stuff i’m so sorry in advance for the spam (no im not but ur warned)

-if we ever talk, i ramble a lot i have a lot to say all the time about everything and if its overwhelming just lmk and i’ll slow it down lol :)

#tqvibe #lilith bangers

[sophierequests]

OKAY SONGFIC EVENT IS CLOSING SOON SO I WILL NOW BE SPAMMING YOUR INBOX <3

🌟 - sports by beach bunny with jesper!!!

i could be lonely with you

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x gn!Reader

A/N: Lizzzz (@juneberrie, because idk how much you're on your old account anymore), I love that idea!!! And I really adored writing this, even though I think I may have branched out a bit. Ik ik, the song is a bit ambiguous when it comes to happy ending or not, but I can't write too much Jesper angst or I'll cry, so have this. As always, thank you so much for requesting this, and I hope you like it <333 Also, how are y'all liking my new post aesthetic?

Summary: The reader is tired of waiting for Jesper to figure his feelings out, but letting him go isn't an option either.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: alcohol, getting drunk, love, possible reaction, happy endings (yuck)

"You're drinking alone? Without me?" Your reason for choosing to get drunk alone in the first place appeared in front of you all of a sudden. Even though the Crow Club was filled to the brim with gamblers, he still had managed to spot you, and now he was here to make you regret ever leaving the safety of your room. Sometimes you wondered if he did all of this just to purposefully vex you.

"Drinking alone sort of implies not having any company, Jesper.” You murmured, taking another sip from your glass of whiskey, avoiding his gaze as best as you could. But of course, the Saints weren’t merciful enough to grant you some peace and quiet. Without asking, he took the drink from your hands and put it to his lips. The same glass that touched your lips only mere seconds earlier. Well, also the same lips that were on yours only mere hours earlier. Saints.

“I guess we’ll have to change that.” It was then that you noticed the slight slur in his speech. He had already been tipsy before coming here, that was probably the only reason for him to talk to you right now. “Why don’t you come and join me at the card table? I could need a lucky charm.” His tone was distinctly flirtatious, and normally you would have instantly latched on to every syllable, but not now. Not after today.

“Sorry, Jesper. I’m not really in the mood for your games right now.” The double entendre went unnoticed considering he solely seemed to care about the missed opportunity of having you sit around while he gambles away the majority of his money. The corners of his mouth were turned downwards as he gave you an almost tortured groan in reaction to your rejection. And as much as you would have liked to accompany him, being close to him - this close to him - was not going to work.

“Not even for half an hour? I always play better when you’re around.” A wink followed his questionable statement, but you were set on not allowing him to lure you in again.

“Nope. Go and ask Wylan. He’d probably be up for it.” Wow, great work. Now you really ruined it for yourself with your bitterness.

“Wylan’s not into all of that. And Wylan also isn’t you.” Saints, how much you wanted to punch him in his perfectly straight teeth just to swipe that awfully smug look off his face.

“Jesper, I just don’t feel like joining you today.”

“Oh come on, Y/N. After that job today I’m in need of a pick-me-up. Please?” Something inside you snapped at that point. Why couldn’t he just take a damn hint and leave you alone for once?

“And I’m in the need to get drunk and not be bothered by someone that doesn’t even know what he wants!” You wanted to take back the words as soon as they left your mouth. His behaviour was incredibly infuriating, however, that didn’t give you permission to lash out at him, nor to blame him for your feelings. You didn’t dwell on that sentiment for too long though, since before he could even begin to give you any type of response, you stood up and made your way towards the exit. He didn’t follow.

This man would eventually be the death of you if you didn’t

You hated the way he made you feel. The way every smile and touch coming from him made your heart spin. The way he always came to be at your side whenever you needed it. The way he put his arms around you so casually, even when it made your heart double its pace. Every single happy or comforting memory you had of him was terribly tainted by the fact that he just could be clear with his intentions.

The two of you had always been close, that was no secret. He was flirty, touchy and quite possibly one of the worst people to have a crush on. At first, the flirting between you had been completely innocent - as innocent as Jesper’s jokes could be - but over time, there seemed to be some hint of truth behind every cheeky comment or whispered flattery. You saw it in the glint of his eyes or the change of his breathing whenever you would reciprocate his advances.

However, Jesper was also terribly brash and constantly chasing a new high. He didn’t settle, or even show any interest in doing so. Love was a gamble and he was an addict. But just like every other addict, he could never have enough. And you were starting to get tired of waiting for him to figure it out. Because in contrast to him, your feelings were more than clear. You had confessed them to him after a drunken night out, and couldn’t look him straight in the eyes for weeks after that. He didn’t give you a concrete answer after that, only making it his mission to close your tab and bring you back home safely. Much to your surprise, that barely changed the relationship you had. His flirty comments did get a bit more genuine, but you just chalked his behaviour up to being the softest way to let you down. You should have been thankful for him not brutally crushing you with the inevitable rejection, but at the same time, him stringing you along like this only managed to agitate you more. You weren’t sure whether you just wanted him to outright tell you that he didn’t feel the same or whether you wanted to stay in the feeling of blissful ignorance induced by his teasing.

Today’s job had only been the icing on top of the cake.

“Why do we always have to be the decoy? Handsome decoy is not a Jesper talent.” The sharpshooter whined as he fumbled with the buttons of his emerald green vest. It looked a bit too tight for him, yet, he still pulled the look off amazingly well. If you hadn’t known that there were two revolvers tucked away in the holsters of his trousers, you wouldn’t have even begun to question his presence at this merchant’s banquet.

“But you do it so beautifully, Jes.” You grinned, giving him a playful slap to his biceps, which was even more pronounced by the tight white shirt he wore underneath his jacket. If Kaz would be listening in on your conversation, he would probably give both of you a whack with his cane and tell you to focus on the job at hand.

“I’m aware, but doing something beautifully isn’t the same as doing something skillfully.”

“That almost sounds like you’re talking about your attempts at flirting.”

“I beg your pardon? My flirting is as skilled as it can be, thank you very much! And for your information, flirting isn’t easy. Especially if it’s your job.” He explained, an overly serious expression on his face.

“Of course. It must be very hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pick-up line.”

“Brutal.”

You laughed, hoping that other people wouldn’t catch on to your ill-fitting jolly mood. Thankfully, you were only there to stand watch and not to do the actual dirty work. You were certain that wouldn’t have ended well for any of you. But from where you were standing, close to one of the three entrances to the banquet hall, no one did necessarily care about you. At least not until now.

Inej’s voice coming up from behind you almost made you pull out the dagger strapped to your leg, but Jesper was quick to seize your upper arm. Something seemingly went wrong, judging by her guarded expression, and you were on the edge to find out what she wanted to tell you.

“I have the intel.” Her breathing was ragged, as she threw unnerved glances behind her now and then. “They have seen me and I’m very very sure that they know who we are. We have to leave, but we can’t take the same route. You take this entrance, and I go out through the west one.”

“Inej, we-”

“No. Go.” With that, she had already disappeared into the crowd of wealthy sellers and merchants that still seemed to be utterly oblivious to what had just happened.

“Saints, Kaz’s attitude has been rubbing off on her,” Jesper grumbled, his hand still on your upper arm, only with a way softer grip. You couldn’t spend too much time appreciating his humour, since as soon as you let your eyes fly over the room again, you spotted three men in uniform crossing the hall. Even though they hadn’t seen you yet, they were definitely making their way towards your entrance.

“I think it’s time to go.” You yanked his hand away from your shoulder and took it in your own, before hurrying out the door. The Stadwatch was fast. Way faster than the two of you. And if they caught sight of your faces, you could only pray.

“What are you doing?” Jesper hissed, as he tried to keep up with your pace. The mansion was a maze and it was best to move through it as quickly as you could.

“Stadwatch. They’re coming towards us.”

“Stadwatch? Are you insane? We can never outrun them!” He slowed down ever so slightly, hanging onto you like an anchor.

“We have to try, Jes. Unless you have the intention of sleeping in a cosy cell in Hellgate tonight.”

“No, we can’t outrun them, Y/N. We have to hide.”

“Hide? Jesper, are you mad? Where do you want to hide?”

“Not where. How.” He retorted, pulling you into a rather secluded corridor as you heard steady footsteps approaching. Your back hit the cold cold wall whilst Jesper towered over you, his chest flushed against yours. His head was cocked slightly to the side in order to have a better view of the Stadwatch approaching. When they seemed to be only a few moments away from seeing you, he turned to look at you.

“Just play along.” He whispered, his hot breath fanning over your face, which was mere inches away from meeting yours. Your hands were on his upper arms in an attempt to put a bit of distance between you, however, that seemed to be the complete opposite of what he had in mind.

“Play along with wh-” You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before his lips clashing against yours cut you off. Everything happened so quickly that your brain just stopped working. His hands lingered on your waist, and the longer the kiss lasted, the dizzier you felt. You had to force your eyes shut to not get too invested in it. Kissing him was something you had always wanted to do, but now that it was finally happening, you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

Just play along.

You recalled his words. Up until this second, your hands were still on his arms, looking as if you were close to pushing him away. Without thinking about it, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer into the kiss, which you were now actively returning. As you did, you heard a muffled yelp coming from his mouth.

The steps that had been approaching slowed down as they passed you, but they didn’t stop. You felt your heartbeat speed up, and through the close proximity to Jesper, you could feel his heart doing the same. When the rhythmic clomping of their boots eventually became inaudible, he pulled away, leaning to the side in order to peek out into the adjacent hallway. His hands didn’t let go of your waist as he assessed your chances of getting out unnoticed, and you were thankful for that. You imagined that if he would dare to let go, your knees would probably give in.

“We’re in the clear.” He huffed, turning his face back to you with a devious grin. You saw him sober up a bit as he looked down at your dumbfounded face. Of course this meant nothing to him, you thought. He could continue on with his day just as if nothing happened, while you were left with the situation playing on repeat in your head. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. Just a bit dizzy.” You breathed. He was still close. Too close.

“I have that effect on people.” He didn’t give you much time to recuperate before reaching for your hand again and rushing towards the exit.

The kiss wouldn’t leave your mind, no matter how hard you tried to forget. You could still feel the pressure of his hands on your waist and taste the bitter tang of kvas on his lips. Running away from him didn’t necessarily help the knife twisting in your chest.

Since you couldn’t bear the feeling of loneliness that you got in your room, you resorted to the only retreat you knew - the roof. It was a stupid idea. Inej would have probably called you daft for going out there at night, especially not during fall. The roof was slippery and it wasn’t unlikely for the wind to pick up. But you just needed to be alone. Completely alone.

Without much thought, you sat down on one of the flat platforms, not caring about the way the wet tiles dampened your clothes. You looked down onto the streets of Ketterdam, focussing on all the little details. They weren’t what one would call crowded, however, enough drunkards and gamblers still staggered through the streets, either to find their way home or to find their way back to the next pub. You would give everything to just be in the shows of some poor drunk bastard whose only worry was what drink he should order next.

“You really have lost your mind, didn’t you?” A shaky voice emerged from a hatch that led out to the rooftop. You angled your head to look at the person wobbling over the slick tiles to get closer to you. Jesper wasn’t particularly fond of climbing or doing tasks that would rather be fit for Inej, so he obviously wasn’t very good at it. You would also suggest that he may have a fear of heights, which he vehemently denied.

“Get off the roof before you fall.” You demanded, anxiously watching him as he threatened to lose his balance.

“Will you join me inside if I do?”

“No, but-”

“Then it’s not happening, love.” You scooted a bit to the side, as he reached the scaffold, giving him some space to calm down. The light up here was pretty sparse and only now you could that he had immensely dressed down from what he wore before. Well, it was a dress-down for Jesper Fahey. He had removed his vest and most of the usual accessories, only being left with his white dressing shirt, brown suspended pants and the thick coat that had always been a little bit too baggy on him.

“Jesper,” You started but didn’t continue. What would you say? How could you even begin to apologize for your embarrassing outburst?

“Do you have any idea how cold it is up here?” You hadn’t even noticed the numbness of your fingers or the constant clattering of your teeth. It was a distraction, that was now completely unnecessary. He sat down next to you, eying you as if he was looking at a ghost. And as if he had to convince himself that you were, in fact, alive, his hand moved to touch yours. He flinched as his warm fingers met yours. You really must feel frigid. “Saints, you’re freezing.” Jesper shrugged off his jacket without a second thought, draping it over your shoulders and not giving in to your meek form of protest.

“Jesper, please.” What were you asking for? For him to leave you alone? For him to stop this lovey-dovey caring act? For him to finally reject you? “Please let me be alone for a bit.”

“I should leave you out here alone? To get sick? To fall off the roof? Absolutely not.” He rambled, scanning over your features, worry embedded in his gaze. “If you don’t want me to talk about it, I won’t talk. That’s fine, we can be lonely together. But I’m not letting you be miserable on top of a roof without supervision.” Why was he so damn complicated?

“Talk.” The word left your mouth before you could stop it.

“What?”

“Just…talk about whatever you came here to talk about. Talk, ask, yell, do whatever you want. Just get it over with, please.” Even though he definitely wasn’t pleased with your current sentiments, he gave you a subtle nod.

“I’m sorry if I upset you by asking you to join me earlier. You looked so unhappy, and I thought that it might cheer you up. I didn’t mean to be so stubborn.” Why was he the one to apologize to you now?

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Jes.” You sighed, facing him fully to at least grant him that decorum. The moonlight made him look ethereal. His gray eyes, which were still surrounded by an uneasy frown, basically pierced through you. Only the most prominent of his features were illuminated by the blue-ish light, making him look like some sort of mystical being. The fact that someone looking like him was currently preparing to reject you would make things a bit easier, you hoped. “I was a bit overwhelmed and I didn’t react properly. It’s not your fault.”

“Y/N, what is going on? Did I say something you didn’t like? If you tell me what it was I’ll stop.” Well, depends if kissing me and then just acting like nothing happened counts. “You started avoiding me after the job today and I don’t know what-” Realization dawned on him as he cut himself off. This was the part where you’d get hurt.

“It has nothing to do with you, I-”

“It was the kiss, wasn’t it?” An unfamiliar emotion travelled over his face, as he began to put two and two together. “I promise that I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, that was never my intention. It was just a means to an end and I’ll stop the flirting if that is what would make you feel better.”

“That’s the problem.” You whispered, not thinking that he would be able to hear it.

“What do you mean?”

Maybe it was time to rip off that bandaid.

“Maybe the fact that the kiss basically meant nothing to you is my problem. Your flirting isn’t the issue, it’s that you do it without feeling anything whilst doing it. I just need you to tell me that you don’t feel the same and then I can move on. But I can’t keep going like this. It’s driving me insane.”

“Feel the same? What are you saying?” This was not going well, was it? How could he be so oblivious?

“I love you, Jesper, okay? I love you, and it kills me that you continue to act as if we could just go on like normal whilst ignoring that fact.”

“You love me?” He looked shocked. Why the fuck did he look shocked?

“Yes? I already told you months ago?” Was he seriously toying with you while you were close to tears?

“You were drunk, I thought…I thought you didn’t mean it!”

“If everything we said whilst being drunk had been a lie, we would barely know each other.” You commented bitterly, waiting for his reaction.

Jesper smiled. Not an uncomfortable or polite smile, but a real toothy grin. A smile that he would normally have after coming back from a successful heist or after winning a round of Three Man Bramble once in a while. Also a smile he wouldn’t just give anyone.

“So the only reason for you being distant after kissing me was because you thought that I didn’t like you back?”

“Way to rub it in, Jesper.”

“And I thought that you just didn’t want to kiss me.” Saints, how you wanted to wipe that self-satisfied grin off his face…

“I didn’t. Not like that. Not when I know that the feelings are one-sided.” You replied groggily. Sometimes you hated how easy it was for him to wind you up. “And you’re really not making things any-”

You felt a tug at the collar of his coat, gently pulling you closer to him. It was almost like a déjà vu - him cutting you off in the middle of a sentence. But this time, it seemed to be completely genuine. Again, his hands moved under his jacket to hold onto your waist, the warmth of his palms giving you a certain fuzzy feeling in the pit of your stomach. With much less hesitation than the last time, you reached for the nape of his neck, only diving deeper into the kiss. His lips felt warm against yours a stark contrast to the harsh wind that previously assaulted you.

Even though you would’ve wanted the kiss to continue forever, at some point it was time for you to break apart. Your eyes were still closed when you pulled away, fearful that all of this would prove to be one of his cruel little games.

“Did you prefer it like that?” He asked, enticing you to slowly peel open your eyes. His eyebrows were raised as he stared at you expectantly.

“Does that mean that…”

“Yes. Since I assume that my constant flirting wasn’t enough to make that clear, I am in love with you, too.” He chuckled, giving you an incredulous look as if it had been more than obvious that he felt that way.

“It’s not exactly that obvious when you flirt with basically everyone.”

“Do you want me to kiss you again? Just to make my point clear, of course.”

“I think I’m in need of some more convincing so that would probably be a good way to bring your point across.”

“How could I deny you?” He smirked, his eyes drifting from your eyes to your lips before another gust of wind caused him to shiver. “But we’re definitely going inside after. I’m not in the mood to become a walking icicle.”

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light

Jesper Fahey: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @writingmysanity @fall-writes

#jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey #jesper fahey imagine #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows #six of crows duology #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone

[justanisabelakinnie]

I was pretty bored yesterday and in a bitter mood and so I ended up spam-reblogging a shitload of anti-Madoka Magica posts(and no I’m not sorry, because no matter fucking what I will never stop hating on that trashfest of an anime), and obviously there’s nothing much really that I can say about it that hasn’t already been said by both me and other people in the past but lemme just say how FUCKED up it is…that grown men can look at a genre full of light and hope and female solidarity and empowerment for girls that teaches them that they can be whatever they want to be and that they should never stop believing in themselves and striving for greatness and go “nope, fuck that, instead of all of that happy fun girl power shit let’s write an edgy grimdark dystopia where being a girl with dreams and a desire to strive for greatness is a bad thing that can only end in suffering and punishment, where the survival of the universe and progress of humanity literally hinges on girls being tortured and killed en masse for wishing for something that would make them happy, where girls are universally portrayed as overemotional and impressionable and susceptible and weak and must slay each other in order to survive because they’ll go berserk and monstrous once their power inevitably gets the better of them, and where the only way to escape this ending is by dying and being erased from existence, because that’s the best girls can hope for, and as the icing on the sour cake, let’s aim it at an adult male audience so that they can watch girls suffer and perish and be psychologically broken for their own entertainment, all because they wanted something for themselves and had the gall and the selfishness to go after it.”

And instead of people seeing it for the sexist torture porn that it is it gets glowing reviews on every platform, people eat this shit up and say that this sleazy adult male-aimed show about barely adolescent girls suffering because they wanted something more for themselves is feminist actually, that actually all of the turmoil that the girls go through is a totally girl power metaphor for how girls suffer at the hands of patriarchy in the real world, and how the torture porn got subverted at the end when really all the end did was show the girls continuing to suffer because of their wishes but hey at least they’ll get the sweet release of death in the end, and how the all-male writing staff definitely meant for this to be the next feminist coming of Jesus despite the fact that they say they weren’t inspired by any Magical Girl works that came before them and were instead inspired by porn games…Madoka is the most progressive and revolutionary anime ever really, even more so than those insightful shows about Magical Girls that are actually aimed at girls and actually feature female empowerment and angst done well and not just for the sole purpose of letting men watch female characters suffer, those other shows are just stupid and shallow and bland and don’t know what they’re talking about, Madoka is where it’s at. Take it from me, a 35-year-old man who has never seen a single Magical Girl anime in my life except for Madoka Magica. If you don’t agree with me or if you dare to critique my soulless male gaze moebait, then you’re obviously just dumb and ignorant and don’t understand the deep philosophical nuances of this shoddy anime, I mean just look at Madoka’s mom! She’s the breadwinner of her family! Sure she’s not important to the plot on a whole and it’s not like Heartcatch Precure has done this character archetype better or anything but she’s proof that the writers are feminist icons who set out to empower women! Now watch as me and the rest of my Madoka-loving friends proceed to bully and harass the shit out of you for not sharing our vapid opinions until you either delete your account, change your tune and say you like Madoka now and were so wrong and stupid before, or stop talking about how much you hate Madoka entirely. And anyway teenage girls really ARE irrational, hysterical, and constantly on their cycles. Of course they’ll get taken advantage of for it! That’s not misogynistic to point out, that’s just the biotruth!

#anti-pmmm #in fact even if you do like madoka but critique it the rabid swarths of its fanbase will still harass you #because madoka is the perfect shining beacon of mahou shoujo anime and anyone coming for it must be burnt at the stake like a witch #(no pun intended) #gosh golly gee aren’t I so glad that my favorite power fantasy genre for girls got ‘saved’ ‘revolutionized’ and ‘deconstructed’(🤮) #by the likes of gen urobutcher #and then people want to say that the grimdark animes that came after madoka ‘missed the point of the original show’ as if madoka didn’t mis #the point of the entire genre first…lol like these shows don’t all have a common denominator for a goddamn reason #ik this post isn’t coherent at all i mean good on you if you understand it but if not idfc #i just hate this anime and need to vent #i wish it would diaf #sexism #misogyny #magical girl #anti-gen urobuchi #vent post #my post

[oliverreedmasterass]

Part 7! (next part is the finale 👀)

Thank you to @starcatcherkiszka​ for the fic idea and tolerating all the times I’ve tagged you in these fic posts lol :) 

In case you want something to listen to while you read: ✨Summer of 69 Playlist✨

Note: I’m so sorry I’ve been spamming everyone with this fic, I’ve been in a HUGE writing mood this weekend

Words: 4.4k 

Warnings: drinking, mentions of drugs, attempted fist fight, tomfoolery

Synopsis: Greta Van Fleet somehow manages to travel back in time to the Summer of 69, during the Woodstock Art and Music festival. You can only imagine what hijinks they’re going to get up to. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

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The rest of the night was a blissful blur. Creedence Clearwater Revival’s set blew the four of them away, and they had the pleasure of watching from the front of the stage, in the audience with a bunch of stoned people who were jumping up and down to the beat. When Janis Joplin came out, Josh couldn’t stop screaming, and he even caught a tambourine that she threw out into the crowd, of course after wrestling it away from a teenage girl. Freddie Stone spotted Jake during Sly and the Family Stone’s performance and he motioned for him to join them all on stage. Josh and Danny whooped out in glee as Jake took a spot beside Gregg Errico on the drums and shook around a maraca like his life depended on it. Sam only refused to cheer because he was still butthurt over Jake’s Joan Baez prank on him earlier. By the time The Who came on at 5am, Josh was appalled that he was still awake and invested in the music. The Who was definitely more of a band that Jake appreciated, but Josh had to admit that they sounded pretty good, and it was fun to watch Pete Townshend do his signature windmill move on the guitar that Jake had played the day before. 

What wasn’t as great was when Pete used the guitar to try and strike Abbie Hoffman, the activist, who had jumped on stage mid-set to yell about John Sinclairs’ 9 year sentence for marijuana possession. Josh had a split second where he contemplated running up to try and defend Abbie, but it was all over so fast, he didn’t have any time to react. Jefferson Airplane closed things out at 8am the next day, and that was when the exhaustion caught up to everyone. 

At the end of “The House at Pooneil Corners,” Sam looked around at Jake, Josh, and Danny with heavy bags under his eyes. 

“No amount of drugs can keep me up for another second,” he said. 

“Hop on my back,” Danny offered, “I’ll take you to Dave’s van so you can get some rest.” 

Like a line of zombies, they inched back to Dave’s van, but were pleasantly surprised to see him there, chatting with Janis Joplin. She was cradling a bottle of something in her hand, dressed in a long, oversized tie dye top with flowy pants, her long hair messy and wrapped around some of the beads hanging from her neck. 

“Hey,” Dave perked up at the sight of the guys. “I was just telling Janis about you.” 

“I’m sad I missed your show,” Janis gave them a toothy smile, extending a hand for all of them to shake. Jake was sure that he was doing a poor job hiding his shock. He was standing in front of one of the most exceptional vocalists of all time. “Dave was telling me about your pipes,” she looked around at them, trying to figure out who the frontman was. 

“Thanks,” Josh spoke up, his face red. 

“Preserve that voice of yours,” Janis’s tone hardened for a second. “That’s a gift you’ve got.” 

“Janis is gonna be at the after party later today,” Dave shared. “We’re all going to be meeting up at a nice restaurant a few miles up the road. There’s gonna be a pretty decent gap between sets after Joe Cocker finishes up, so we’ll have enough time to mingle.”

“That sounds great,” Jake said, looking around at Josh, Sam, and Danny to make sure that they were up for it. Danny was still staring at Janis Joplin, obviously having trouble comprehending that she was real. Sam nodded, though he still looked concerned about Joan Baez, and Josh gave a smile. 

“I do need to sleep though,” Sam remembered. “I can’t believe I’m still standing upright.” 

“The van’s all yours,” Dave chuckled, motioning towards the open door. That was what Sam had been waiting for, since he kicked off his shoes and dove into the back of the van, finding his spot back under the massive pile of blankets. Danny finally snapped his head away from Janis and nodded towards where Sam had disappeared. 

“I think I’m gonna get a nap in,” he excused himself. “It was nice to meet you,” he added, finally addressing Janis, who raised her drink up to him. 

“Keep on rocking, I’ll see you later,” she promised. Danny nearly hit his head on the doorframe of the van because he was so thrown off guard by being in Janis’s presence. Jake wanted to continue talking with her and Dave, but he also knew they would be at the party later. Although Jake wasn’t as open to announce it to the world like Sam, he was feeling pretty damn tired too. 

“Catch you later,” he raised a hand to Janis and Dave, and swiftly made his exit into the van. 

“They’re good kids,” he could hear Dave tell Janis behind him. 

“They’re cute,” Janis chuckled. 

Josh was right behind Jake and, after sliding the van door shut to engulf them in darkness, Jake nudged Josh in the side. 

“Thanks for sticking around,” he said just loudly enough for Josh to hear. 

“Vietnam or not, it is pretty cool being here,” Josh chuckled. 

----

They all could have slept a lot longer if Joe Cocker’s rendition of “With A Little Help From My Friends” didn’t make them spring out of the van. One thing Jake, Josh, Sam, and Danny could all agree on was that it was one of the best covers made. They had to see it live. 

In a mad rush, they sprinted down the field towards the stage and started to cheer loudly when they could just barely make out the ant-like figure that was Joe Cocker on stage, in his red, yellow, and purple tie dye shirt. While Josh and Sam swung back and forth to the music, Danny took a seat in the grass, leaned back on his elbows, and closed his eyes so he could be fully immersed in the music. Jake just stared onwards in awe. The recordings that he had grown up hearing of the cover were nothing in comparison to witnessing it live. 

By the time Joe Cocker left the stage, Josh was disappointed. He and Sam had been having a field day dropping it low to the music, even if their dancing didn’t quite match what everyone else in the crowd was doing. 

“That was great, wasn’t it?” he nudged Danny in the side. Danny slowly opened his eyes and leaned his head back to look at Josh. 

“I’m sad I slept through ‘Feelin’ Alright.’”

“That’s what the concert DVD is for,” Josh joked. 

“We should find Dave,” Jake realized. “I have no clue how to get to that restaurant.” 

“I didn’t see him when we left the van,” Sam shared. “But I also wasn’t really looking for him.” 

“I’ll bet he’s by the stage,” Josh reasoned. They all looked ahead at the stage in the distance and released a collective groan. They had done a lot more walking than they were used to over the past three days. Jake was certain that he was getting in his 10,000 steps a day. If he had it on him, his Fitbit would have been so proud. 

The walk was long but worthwhile, since they located Dave and he motioned towards a Ford Bronco that was parked in the dirt by the front entrance. 

“I’ll have one of my guys drive you over there,” he said like it was no problem. “It’s a short trip.” 

“We’re in no rush,” Jake lied. He needed to eat something filling soon, or else he was going to have to resort to gnawing on sticks and pieces of cardboard. 

It was a pleasant surprise that they were apparently receiving star treatment, since one of the stagehands hurried to their side, some cords still in his hands, and nodded towards the car. 

“Ready to head out?” 

“Yup,” they all replied. 

Compared to the first day when they walked into the venue, the roads were a bit more clear, but it was still shocking to see how many cars had been abandoned on the side of the road. Danny frowned when he saw that some of the cars had their windows broken in. Some people loitered around, grouping in the shade for cover from the sun, and watched as the car drove past. 

“Dave reserved the restaurant,” the stagehand shared. “I’m not sure how great the food is, it’s all locals running things out here who aren’t used to big crowds, but it probably won’t give you food poisoning.” 

“That’s a relief?” Josh had to laugh in response. 

“It better not give me food poisoning,” Sam grumbled. 

The stagehand pulled into the parking lot of a small diner that looked straight out of the 1950s. Jake whistled at the sight of it and immediately knew that he was about to have a really, really good milkshake. 

“I like that Dave considers this a nice place,” Josh observed after they hopped out of the car. 

“It is a nice place, compared to what we’ve been eating recently,” Danny said. Like Jake, Danny was growing really tired of eating essentially bird food. He was ready to move on to bigger and better things, like a good old greasy hamburger. 

They strolled through the front doors and, even though they had spent time around all of their idols all weekend, it was still jarring to see them crowded into one place. Jake couldn’t help but let out a gasp when he saw Pete Townshend and Keith Moon standing in the corner of the diner, stationed next to the jukebox, trying to smoke multiple cigarettes at once. Jerry Garcia was laying on the diner counter, popping maraschino cherries into his mouth like candy. A few members from Jefferson Airplane were crowded into one of the booths, silently digging into a massive plate of fries. While Jake was starstruck by the members of The Who, Sam felt his hands start to shake in excitement when he spotted Neil Young, Stephen Stills, David Crosby, and Graham Nash lounging on the counter stools. He started to levitate towards them, but abruptly stopped when he saw that Joan Baez was sitting with them. 

“Shit,” Sam grunted when he saw that Joan was looking in his direction. 

Hey!” she called to him. Sam tried to hide his face, but Danny nudged him forward. 

“Just be normal,” he tried to coach Sam. “I’m sure she doesn’t care that you missed her show.” 

Sam huffed but nodded because he knew that Danny was telling the truth. 

“Hey!” he replied back to Joan, waving an arm around with a bit too much force, so he nearly whacked Country Joe McDonald in the head. Joan motioned for him to join her and the CSNY guys, and he jogged to her side. 

“Have you met Neil, Stephen, David, and Graham?” she asked Sam. Sam’s mouth was hung open. 

“Seems like he recognizes us,” Stephen said with a grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look at us like that before. Does this mean we’ve made it, Neil?” 

“I sure hope so,” Neil joined in the laughter. “Maybe I’ll be able to pay off the mortgage on my house soon.” 

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Graham chuckled. Sam started to nervously laugh with them. 

“So do you play with anyone? What’s your instrument?” Stephen focused his attention back on Sam. Joan luckily swooped in and saved Sam from utter embarrassment since he had suddenly forgotten how to speak English in his moment of panic. 

“He does keys and bass for this new group, called JJ and the Salty Dogs,” Joan shared. “They put on a stellar performance Friday night. It was hard to go out there after them.” 

Sam winced at the thought that he had missed Joan Baez’s set. 

“Half the audience was asleep by the time I went out,” Joan continued. “I don’t think I have the heaviest music to keep everyone awake, I probably should have been one of the first people out there but it is what it is, I guess.” 

“Hey, you closed out the first day, that’s pretty huge,” Neil raised a glass up to Joan with a smile. “You deserve to be at the top of the bill, you’ve been working hard for it.” 

One of the diner employees approached their group with a pen and notepad in hand. 

“I’ll have a vanilla malt,” Sam finally found his words again. It was amazing what he could do when he was starving. “Do you have any non-meat items?” 

“Non-meat?” the employee cocked his head to the side. “Like a salad?” 

“That’ll do,” Sam sighed. “And I’ll take some fries too.” 

Since he had found his words again, he decided to lean on the counter, right by Jerry Garcia’s bare feet, and strike a conversation with some of his favorite musicians. He had to know what their process was behind writing “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes.” 

Back at the front entrance, Danny, Jake, and Josh were still huddling close to each other, unsure what to do. They were caught in a situation none of them could have ever dreamed of: everyone in that diner had, in some way or another, been an influence on their music. Jake watched as Pete Townshend and Keith Moon put their cigarettes out and turned their attention to the jukebox. Keith fished a few coins out of his pocket and slid them into the slot so he could flip through the song options. He finally settled on Henry Mancini’s “Love Theme from Romeo and Juliet” and started to waltz around the diner while humming along. Roger Daltry entered the restaurant and stood beside Josh, Jake, and Danny, trying to search for his bandmates when Keith whisked him away, twirling him around a few times. 

“Quit it!” Roger called out, but Keith was in no mood to stop. Behind them, Pete was cackling loudly. 

While Jake was watching the chaotic scene unfold in front of them, Josh was distracted because he was trying to find Robbie Robertson, from The Band. Out of all the people on the Woodstock lineup that he hadn’t met yet, he most wanted to pick Robbie’s brain apart since he was, in Josh’s opinion, one of the best songwriters and storytellers of the time. He perked up when he saw Robbie standing at the far end of the counter, cradling a beer, and rushed to his side, leaving Jake and Danny behind. 

Keith had finally stopped spinning Roger in circles, and the members of The Who, including John Entwistle, who had just come in, settled into a booth so they could steal fries from Jefferson Airplane. 

“We should talk to them,” Jake whispered to Danny, motioning towards The Who. 

“They kind of scare me,” Danny admitted. “Plus I heard Pete’s a dickhead.”

“Only one way to find out,” Jake said, dragging Danny behind him. 

“Why don’t we try to talk to Ten Years After instead?” Danny tried to negotiate with Jake, but stopped when he realized that they were standing in front of The Who’s booth. Jake wasn’t really sure what the best way was to make a first impression with them, so he decided to snatch a french fry out of John’s hand and shove it in his mouth. 

“Who are you?” Pete’s voice raised. Danny turned on his heel to run away, but Jake held him firmly in place while he swallowed down the french fry. 

“We played on Friday,” Jake answered, hoping he sounded a lot more confident than he felt. “We’re called Greta Van - fuck - JJ and the Salty Dogs.” 

“Long band name,” Keith nodded in appreciation. 

“I’ve never heard of you,” Pete retorted. 

“Hey, I think I saw a picture of your performance,” Roger spoke up. “This guy plays a guitar that looks exactly like yours, Pete,” he added, motioning in Jake’s direction. 

“What are the odds of that?” Jake nervously chuckled. He really hoped that it wasn’t obvious from the picture that he really was playing Pete’s guitar. He could only imagine what Pete would do to him if he found out so, at that moment, Jake decided it was probably safest that he get some distance between them. “Well, nice to meet you,” Jake excused himself, hustling away and leaving Danny in the dust. Danny stared down at the members of The Who in fear. 

“Take a seat,” Keith scooted over on the vinyl seat and patted it. “We don’t bite.” 

“Oh god,” Danny whispered. 

Across the diner, Josh had moved on from Robbie Robertson to join Sam, Joan Baez, and the members of CSNY. Robbie had been kind to him, but Josh quickly found that he wasn’t really in the mood to talk music, and rather preferred to people-watch while working away at his beer. Sam was engaged in a deep conversation with Stephen Stills about harmonies when Josh came over and extended a hand for Stephen to shake. 

“Pleasure to meet you,” Josh flashed his pearly whites. 

“This your brother?” Stephen checked in with Sam, who nodded. 

“I’ve heard a lot about your voice, dude. Everyone’s been raving about it, I keep hearing that it’s outtasight.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Josh blushed and raked a hand through his hair. 

“I’m hoping my voice holds up tonight,” Stephen looked between Sam and Josh. “It’s our second time performing live, so the nerves are pretty bad.” 

“You’re gonna be fine,” Sam assured him. He knew for a fact that he was going to be fine: he had grown up listening to the CSNY Woodstock performance on CD, and it was one of his favorite albums of all time. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.” 

A loud commotion came from the back of the diner and they all turned around to find its source. Upon closer inspection, Sam and Josh realized that Danny was standing on top of one of the booth’s tables with Keith Moon, jousting back and forth with two floppy french fries. 

“What the hell?” Josh couldn’t help but sputter. 

“He one of yours?” Stephen smirked, nodding in Danny’s direction. “Keith will bring out the worst in people. But, if you ask him, he’ll insist it’s the best. He convinced David to crash a car into a snowbank once.” 

“Best night of my life,” David leaned over to interject. 

“Should we tell him to stop?” Josh asked Sam. Sam watched his best friend cackle with glee as he pretended to shank Keith Moon, and shook his head. 

“Let him have his fun.” 

While Josh, Sam, and Danny all socialized, Jake had been hiding in the bathroom, where he thought he was safe from the wrath of Pete Townshend. He could only hide for so long though since his stomach was literally starting to ingest himself, so he tried to convince himself that he would be okay, and then powered out of the bathroom stall to find a waiter. Right outside the bathroom door, he ran into Michael Shrieve, from Santana, and Joe Cocker, and nearly screamed in surprise. 

“We saw you talking to The Who guys,” Michael gave Jake a knowing look. 

“Talk about a lot of energy,” Joe Cocker blew out. “I’m too old for that shit.”

“You’re twenty-five,” Michael turned to Joe. 

“Fucking ancient,” Joe continued. 

“I tried talking to them a bit earlier,” Michael shared. “Pete called me a punkass bitch for literally no reason at all. I just told him that I thought Tommy was a really great album.” 

“He’s got quite the, uh, personality,” Jake tried to think of an acceptable response. 

“Don’t let it get to you,” Joe Cocker patted him on the back. “All the other guys here are for the most part cool. Jerry Garcia’s a fun guy if you can actually catch him while he’s conscious.” 

They all looked at Jerry, who had fallen asleep on top of the counter, and was unleashing window-rattling snores. Edgar Winter was leaning over him, trying to balance as many cherries as he could on his forehead. 

“Thanks, guys,” Jake looked between them. “It’s hard to put into words how exciting it is to be here with everyone.” His stomach let out a loud groan and Jake cleared his throat. “We’ll have to talk more later, but I need to get some food in me before I combust.” 

“Yeah, don’t do that,” Michael laughed, waving Jake away. 

Jake hurried to the counter, next to where Josh and Sam were standing, and tried to catch the attention of one of the chefs who was working in the back. He looked up from the burger he was grilling and held up a finger for Jake to wait a second. Jake wasn’t sure he could last that long, so he grabbed a handful of Sam’s salad that he had gotten halfway through and shoved it into his mouth. For what it was worth, it was probably the best thing Jake had eaten since they got to 1969. It took everything within him to not groan out in satisfaction. 

“There you are,” Josh turned around to face Jake. “I was wondering where you had disappeared off to.” 

“Bathroom,” Jake replied. He didn’t want to extrapolate on that any further. 

Danny and Keith Moon’s french fry battle had escalated to an all-out war as they armed themselves with paper plates as shields, and Keith was wearing an empty tray on his head like a helmet. The table was no longer enough for them, since they had hopped down and were navigating around the busy diner, whacking each other back and forth with the french fries. Danny’s french fry broke in half upon impact on Keith’s shoulder, and Keith took the opportunity to roar and tackle Danny, sending him flying over the counter, right past Jake, Josh, and Sam. Before they could worry that Danny had gotten seriously injured, Danny sprung back up with a whoop and brushed himself off. 

“I thought this was a no-contact sport!” He called to Keith. 

“I don’t know where you heard that from,” Keith replied with a cheeky grin.

Jake watched the two drummers rough house with his mouth hung open. He must have missed a lot while he was hiding in the bathroom if Danny was apparently suddenly buddies with the powderkeg of a drummer from The Who. 

“Danny becoming friends with Keith Moon, there’s another thing I didn’t have on my time travel bingo card,” Sam mused between sips of his vanilla malt. 

“Your time travel what?” Stephen raised an eyebrow. Sam started to choke at the realization that he had let their time travel slip. While Jake slapped him on the back to help him clear his windpipe, he noticed that Pete Townshend was booking it towards him, and he didn’t look happy. 

“Oh fuck,” Jake muttered. 

“Hey!” Pete barked at him as he abruptly stopped inches in front of Jake’s face. 

“You were playing my guitar on Friday night!” 

“Uh oh,” Josh whispered beside Jake, taking a step out of the way so he wasn’t in the line of fire. 

Jake hated that he couldn’t think of a single thing to say to Pete Townshend, and instead started to nervously chuckle. That was the wrong move, since Pete grabbed Jake's Sgt. Pepper jacket and lifted him a few inches off the ground. 

“No one touches my Gibson,” Pete snarled. 

“Sounds like he did though,” Neil cut in, sounding relatively uninterested in the drama Pete was trying to stir. “What’s done is done, dude.” 

That wasn’t enough to calm Pete down. 

“You’re coming outside with me,” he told Jake, and before Josh or Sam could stop him, he started to drag Jake to the front door. Jake kind of just hung lip in his grasp, in a daze from everything that was happening. He couldn’t believe he was about to get his ass handed to him by the lead guitarist of The Who. Talk about a doozy. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” Sly Stone called to Pete. “Let the kid go.” 

Pete ignored him and brought Jake out into the parking lot and threw him on the hot pavement. All of the musicians who had been lounging inside of the diner came hurrying out to see what was going on. Josh and Sam tried to push to the front of the pack so they could try and stop whatever Pete was about to do. 

“Get up and fight,” Pete ordered down to Jake. Jake looked up at him from the ground and considered his chances. Pete was a bit out of his weight class, so it wasn’t really an even match. Jake could picture himself being carted out of the fight on a stretcher, both of his eyes bruised and his face bloody. That wasn’t really how he wanted to spend his Sunday. 

Jake slowly picked himself up, and he could hear Josh and Sam’s muffled voices screaming at them to stop over the buzzing in his ears. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Danny and Keith were hurrying to them, Danny waving his arms for Pete to calm down, and Keith hollering that they pound each others’ faces in. 

It all happened so fast. With Jake back upright, Pete threw a quick punch towards his head, which Jake somehow managed to dodge. As Pete wound up another fist to hurtle in his direction, Jake hopped out of the way and, while he still had some momentum, he started to book it out of the parking lot, pumping his arms as fast as he could. The Woodstock musicians cheered as they watched Jake sprint down the county road and out of sight. Josh, Sam, and Danny gaped in disbelief. Pete looked like he was contemplating chasing after Jake, but he eventually dropped his fist back down to his side and shook his head. 

“What a joke,” he grumbled. He’d have to find someone else to fight to unleash his daily testosterone build up. He didn’t like how the bassist from Blood, Sweat, & Tears had looked at him earlier: he could pound his face in. 

As the crowd dispersed, Danny came up to Sam and Josh with a frown. 

“We should probably find Jake, huh?” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he ran all the way back to the festival grounds so he could hide in Dave’s van,” Josh replied. “But yeah, we should figure out where he went.” 

So the three gave the diner one last look and then started to walk down the road after Jake, discussing the odds that he would have hypothetically beat Pete in a fist fight. They were all in agreement that his chances weren’t great.

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #gvf fic #gvf fanfic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fic #woodstock #the who #pete townshend #keith moon #roger daltry #jefferson airplane #jerry garcia #stephen stills #graham nash #david crosby #neil young #joan baez #joe cocker

[ptergwen]

Could you do peter and the reader high being all giggly and touch at a bonfire party

i know but this just fits the vision perfectly

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist

w/c: 520

warnings: explicit language, drug use, making out

a/n: oh absolutely peter being high is a concept we need more of! also sorry for the mini spam i just got back in the writing mood lfmhjdj enjoy besties

“just one hit.”

“really? just one? c’mon, peter. you can do better than that.”

you and peter are at a bonfire at the beach with friends. you sit facing each other in the sand, a lit joint between your fingers. you’re sharing it with peter, and you’ve already taken a few drags off of it. it’s his turn.

“don’t make me get high alone.”

you offer your boyfriend the joint, lips curling into a smirk.

“don’t be a pussy.”

“don’t use pussy like that. it’s sexist, and misogynistic, and- never mind, you don’t need a lecture on misogyny from me. gimme that.”

you grin and pass him the joint. he brings it to his lips and inhales, holding the smoke in his mouth for an impressive amount of time before blowing it out. he repeats the process once more, then gives the joint back to you.

“happy?”

“very.”

you take a final hit for good measure. you jam the joint into the sand to put it out and grab peter’s hand.

“let’s dance.”

you lead him to the fire, where some of your friends are gathered. music is playing, and a couple people sway to it. the two of you join in.

after a while of dancing together, your highs kick in. you stand on peter’s feet and hold his hands for support. you’re barefoot, and he’s in a pair of beat up sneakers. he walks around the beach with you balancing on his feet. you cackle amongst yourselves, occasionally bumping into friends, which makes you laugh even harder.

peter starts walking backwards and trips, sending you both tumbling into the sand. he breaks your fall. you both look at each other and burst into laughter.

“oopsies. i stepped on a rock.”

“nice going, penis parker.”

you sit up and straddle peter’s waist. peter giggles, hands coming to your hips.

“is it just me or can you, like, not feel anything? when i’m high, i literally feel nothing.”

“sounds nice.”

“it is nice. i love being high.”

“i love you being high. it’s the only time you aren’t all uptight and shit.”

“hey.”

peter pokes at your hips with a pout.

“i mean it as a good thing. ‘cause you get a break, you know?”

“sure, sure. mhm.”

peter pushes your dress up, bunching it at your thighs. he squints up at you, a dopey smile spreading across his features. the light from the fire illuminates you in the darkness. he just stares at you for a moment, fingers dipping under your dress to draw patterns on your skin.

“you’re so pretty. my pretty baby.”

you giggle in response. you listen to the waves crashing into each other and onto the shore, let the cool breeze wash over you. your hands cup either of peter’s cheeks. you make your way up his body so your faces are in line.

“tell me if you feel this.”

your lips catch peter’s. he parts his lips as he kisses back, guiding your body flush against his. he whines when your teeth tug on his bottom lip, head tilting up to deepen the kiss.

tags: @mystic-writings @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @jenoslov @crvshnburnn @yourlocalomlette @starlight-starks @belovasheart @liltimmyst @eviewriites @hollandsangel @parkerctrl @eichenhouseproperty @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @varshhyy @ellebutnotwoods @magicalxdaydream @tayyx @parkerdadda @valluvsu @ronweasleysslut @peterficrecs @Winchestersgirl222 @sunf1ower-vol6 @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @niktwazny303 @marvelgurl @thismessymasterpiece @alina02​ @sapphic_romanoff @It'sJaneDeLuca @lomlbuckyy @idkeverythingistakennn

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker writing #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine

[goobiestar]

Raghh new pin time this time with effort!!!

Goobiestar’z Kitty werld

Goobie | He/it | (closeted)Trans, Bisexual | 15 💥

Goosefeather’s redemption au - @goosez-redemption

EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS OPEN!

Hii i’m goobie, I have terrible issues with containing my anger and being patient so if anything looks off on my blog—sorry i swear i have fast mood changes. I mostly draw cats, reblog stupid stuff and sometimes talk about war cats but not rlly, so lmk if u wanna talk in dms, i swear i am not THAT aggressive irl, I’m just shy lmao, theres a good chance with most of u that see my blog that im dying to talk to yall 💕

Also please do not spam my blog. Thanks.

DNI

(This can include any form of writing/art of any of my dnis aswell, please be careful)

Goosefeather haterz :((

Proshippers (pls no war on this its annoying asf)

Inc//st, r//pe, p//dophila writers/artists

Thistleclaw fans, fuck awf im petty but im free

Terfs and homophobes

Anyone else is allowed as of now thanks

ASKS

(I’m very slow on asks and sometimes it looks like i forget, but i don’t you may send any of this on my ask blog!!! I just need yall to be specific)

Normal talk (like just a normal convo in my ask, i don’t mind them i get excited)

Kitty dress up

Ppl’s kitty aus

Anything about your ocs or my ocs I’ll look with any sort of specifying

Cats to just draw / headcanons of them

Ship art / hypokits

Talk about your days arghhh

[fluffytriceratops]

Important Update! Please Read!!

I’m yeeting myself into the abyss. And won’t be on here much because of it.

In all seriousness, this is a important update on why I’m not on here as much and when I will return.

For those of you who don’t know, I work seasonally at a summer camp. I mainly work in the kitchen as a assistant to the head chef, but I also do a lot of cleaning. I mainly clean up after guests when they’ve stayed at one of the camp’s cabins/motels. Now I don’t really like this job, in fact, I kinda hate it. But as a broke art student, whose family has been struggling a ton financially this past year, I don’t have many options. And it does pay decently well. Normally the employees come at the end of June - beginning of July, but I’ve offered to come in a month early to help set up the camp. This is a shit ton of work, and I absolutely hate it. I had to do it last year, and I wanted to throw myself off a cliff. It’s extremely stressful and draining. My anxiety spikes up a ton. I’m constantly suffering both physically (I suffer greatly from pains, mainly in my back, hands, head, and wrists), mentally, and emotionally. My hands shake a lot, and it just gets to bad when I’m working and pushing myself so much. So to say I’m miserable during this time of the year is a bit of an understatement haha. This will be my second year working here but my family and I have been going there for many generations.

Working at this camp is a literal nightmare for me. I never really liked going there for long periods of time when I wasn’t working, and now that I am it drains the fun out of the place completely. I’ve had nightmares about having to go back all year. I wish I was exaggerating, but I promise I’m not lol.

Because I’ll be working almost everyday for the next three months (I also work the beginning of September but it’s not the full month so I don’t really count it), I won’t have much time for myself let alone tumblr and any other sites I’m apart of. Unfortunately this means that I won’t be able to write, draw, or roleplay much at all. And honestly, anytime that I spend not working I’ll probably be sleeping because that’s how exhausted I am. You have no idea how many times I just took a nap on someone’s couch last year during breaks. I’ve never napped so much in my life haha.

Long story short, any and all works of mine will be delayed and coming out very slowly for the next while. This includes roleplay responses. I’m very sorry to those of you who are/will be waiting on me to reply, not only to rps but to messages/reblogs and just about anything and everything really. Like I said, my posting schedule will be random and all over the place. I’ll write/draw/respond/rp when I have time and am in the mood. (Which is basically what I do now, it’s just I have far less time on my hands hehe)

This also means that I might come on occasionally to spam a few people now and again, because I’ll be missing a bunch of stuff lmao.

With all of that said; PLEASE CONTINUE TO TAG ME IN ALL OF YOUR STUFF SO THAT I CAN SEE IT WHEN I CAN! I’ll probably miss a couple posts here and there, and I apologize in advance if that’s the case, but I’ll try my hardest to respond/look at everything! Also- don’t be afraid to ask me if I’d like to be tagged in certain things (or to just tag me in general, I love hearing from you guys!) , it might take me a moment to get back to you, but honestly there are so many cool people on here, I feel so bad that I’m going to miss out on so much! And don’t be afraid to message me either! Again, it might take me a while to reply to you, but I’ll get around to it eventually! ^^

ALSO- to all of my mutuals/tumblr buddies— if you’re interested, I’d love just to chat with you guys! Whether that be on my dm’s here, or on Instagram or discord, whatever really. I’ve met so many amazing people and I’d love to keep in contact other than our posts! So, if you’re interested, feel free to message me on here or comment or reblog, whatever you feel most comfortable doing, and let me know! I can send you my insta or discord or whatever and we can keep in touch much easier! Don’t be afraid to ask to chat! I’d love to have more online friends! <3

I’ll probably post little life updates and stuff when I can, so look out for those if that’s something you’d be interested in seeing!

And let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my stuff, I post a lot of multifandom things, so if you see something you like, lemme know and I’ll tag you so you don’t miss out! I’ll probably be posting some older stuff/things I just haven’t uploaded to tumblr yet, so there’s that hehe.

Again- I’m really sorry that I won’t be very active on here. I’ll try to come on as much as I can! In the meantime, message me, tag me, and take good care of yourselves! Drink lots of water, take power naps when needed, get some sunshine and fresh air every once and a while, and make sure you remember to eat! Sometimes I forget, so it’s nice to have a lil reminder! ^v^

I love you all so so much, and I can’t wait till the summer is over lmfao.

IM SENDING ALL OF THE VIRTUAL HUGS TO YOU!!! ^3^

— LF / Fluffy / Fluffie. <3

Xox

Ps. Wish me luck. TvT

#update #important #i hate my life #working sucks #adulting sucks #kill me now #ughhh

[wind-becomes-lightning]

Idk if this did sent yesterday since my internet crashed, so I'm sorry if I sent this to you twice D:, don't wanna spam you ahhh!

For your 600 follower event, I was wondering if I could request some Anko x my OC Fuyu fluff, with the prompt no. 24, if possible! Your writing takes my breath away time and time again, so I wanted to send in a request!

Congratulations on hitting such a great goal again and thank you for blessing us with your amazing writing time and time again 🤍!!

hello lovely! Here it goes! It is not super fluffy (mor like hurt and comfort I guess?) Thank you for letting me write the girls! <3 It's a little shorter but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Thank you for always being such a kind commenter.

Anko x OC

mentions of child experiments (their teacher is orochimaru, you understand.)

prompt was: The first time you smiled it felt like the universe aligned.

1857 words.

One of the many great things about Fuyumi was that Anko could always tell when she was sad, mostly because it was raining ice from the ceiling, even in the middle of summer, even if they were inside. Somehow her worries and fears would inspire her body to work on its own. Anko never quite understood if it was her wishing to sit in cold and sadness or if Fuyu’s ice was something that was comforting her in times of crises, either way, it was raining ice when she was in a bad mood, so Anko always knew.

This day for example, she came home from a short few hour mission with a group of younger children, Genin freshly graduated from the academy, and could smell the snow the moment she opened the door. Anko had recently started doing jobs with and for the academy and found herself good at it. After she had first proctored at the Chuunin exams some years ago she had found it pleasant to work with younger shinobi and was now considering becoming a sort of teacher. Possibly at least. It wasn’t decided.

“I’m home!” she yelled from the entrance and got no reply but cold air coming from the living room. In the morning Fuyumi had still seemed her usual cheery and upbeat self as she had gleefully burned an egg in the frying pan. Anko had made fun of her for the mistake, just some light teasing she thought. Surely Fuyu wasn’t upset about that?

She took her shoes off and then walked through the apartment they both shared in quick steps only to find Fuyu laying with her stomach on the couch, snow slowly drilling over her long locks. There were bags of comfort food on the couch table in front of her further making clear that she must feel terribly. Anko put her hands into her sides: “Is it winter already?”

Fuyu looked up and shook her head, which instantly let the tiny clouds that had been snowing disappear. She sat herself up and straightened out her clothes. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“Oh, I would never make fun of you, come on,” Anko sat down beside her and pulled an arm around her girlfriend. Technically that was not true, because in the many years that they had both known and fought alongside each other Anko had made fun of Fuyumi many times, the other way around also. They had even fought about it occasionally, but never deep enough that what they had could be ripped apart.

Fuyu sighed and then smiled: “How was your mission?”

“I absolutely aced it as always.” Anko wrapped one strand of Fuyumi’s hair around her finger. “But that is not important right now. Why don’t you tell me what is bothering you?” She wiped some rest of the snow from the other woman’s shoulder.

“It’s confusing,” Fuyu pulled her hands together in her lap. “I don’t really know how to explain it…I’ve been thinking of him and.. I don’t know..”

Ah, yes, Anko had already suspected something like this might be the case. She sighed and pulled her girlfriend a little closer still. Just yesterday they had been ordered to the Hokage office with their former team mate Ume and were briefed by Lady Tsunade on the fact that their teacher Orochimaru had apparently finally been killed. That last boy he had taken, Uchiha Sasuke, had overwhelmed him or so the sources said. All three of them had not known how to react to that revelation.

Rationally, they should have all been elated to have him dead for all the things he had done with them, experimented on them, but his grip on all three of them had always been unusually tight and despite many terrible things he had done to them, they had trusted him still. In that first exam she was supervising, Anko had seen Orochimaru again and for months after she had the feeling snakes were strangling her in her dreams. Fuyu had woken her up several times from a nightmare.

Still, hearing that he had died was like a punch in the face. “I understand,” Anko said and meant it. Ume and her were maybe the only people who could understand Fuyumi’s feelings of confusion, maybe outside of Lady Tsunade and Lord Jirayia. So she took Fuyu’s hand and pressed it supportively.

“I am relieved in a way,” Fuyu murmured, staring down in front of her. “At least he can’t come after us anymore or misuse the cursed seal like he did with you…” Anko rubbed her neck. “.. but somehow I’m not really happy. I kind of am sorry for it all too. It makes no real sense.”

“No, it definitely does make sense. I feel very similar and I suspect Ume does too. We are… like abused children that lose a parent. He was a terrible person, but he was still our parent.” Anko knocked her foot a little against the table in front of her. “I think what is the most confusing is that it was not all bad.”

It was the truth. There had been times in which Orochimaru had been a good teacher. Anko had always suspected that he had only trained the three of them when it served his purpose of learning more about the curse mark or Fuyu’s special power, but even so he had individually spent time with each of them to get to know them. Anko specifically had gained a lot from him as a tutor: many of her special jutsu and especially her affinity with snakes were inherited from Orochimaru. He had definitely left more of a mark on her than just a cursed one.

Additionally he had taught the three girls that the most important thing in a shinobi was loyalty, loyalty towards the leader and the fighting comrades. Maybe that had also been just another tactic to get them to never run back to Konoha and tell someone who mattered about his shady experiments, or maybe he had been honest with himself for that point at least, but all of them really internalised that lesson. For a long time they had been sewn together at the hips.

“No, there was a lot of fun too,” Fuyu said now and leaned her head against Anko’s a little. “We could be quite chaotic together all of us.”

Anko laughed: “You and I can still be super chaotic. Remember when we tried to cook a meal when we invited Gai and Ume over for a housewarming?” Fuyumi laughed at the memory. IWhen they moved in they had decided to invite the other couple over for some nice adult time and almost burned down their new apartment in the process. Ume had looked at them with a frown and told them to never cook again. She was probably right at that.

“Yes, but we had each other because of him. He sort of introduced us to each other. He bonded us.”  Fuyu sighed. “I think I am sort of thankful for that, even if… all the rest…”

“He didn’t introduce us at least,” Anko shrugged. “You and I were always together. I mean he has given us experiences that we now have to both work through and that means we have a great understanding of one another, but he didn’t give you to me. You were already mine when we became genin.”

Fuyumi giggled. “What are you saying I was already yours.”

To Anko there had never been anyone more important than Fuyu, never, not even when they were small, not even before the snake bite marked them both as damaged goods. From the moment they met each other Anko wanted to be in Fuyu’s orbit as if it was dragging her in. They were similar and different on just the right aspects and Anko had always loved that, probably even before she had understood what love meant.

“I don’t want to believe in destiny because I think it is bogus to live your life as if you have no choice of my own,” Anko said, “but I have to say that it is easy to believe that it was destiny that I met you. After all - the first time I saw you smile it sort of felt like the university realigned, like all the clouds opened up to shine on your face.”

The other woman opened her mouth and then closed it again and when Anko looked up she was clearly blushing deeply. “That's…. Very nice of you to say.” Fuyu seemed speechless.

“Ah, you are so cute,” Anko said and pressed a soft kiss to Fuyumi’s cheek. “I don’t just say it to be nice, it was really like that.”

Fuyu raised Anko’s hand and softly kissed the knuckles. “Well, I agree. Our meeting was cataclysmic. Even more important than the foundation of the great villages, will be remembered in history books.” She laughed.

“Now you make fun of me!” Anko protested.

“I would never make fun of you, my dear” Fuyu copied Anko’s tone of voice perfectly, winked cheekily and then continued. “All jokes aside, you are right. The most important thing Orochimaru has given us is each other and we really don’t need him for that. In fact, we never needed him for that. He just made our lives miserable.”

Anko nodded. “And now he will never do that again. We are free and we still have each other. We will always have each other.”

They looked at each other with a smile, their hands still pressed against one another. To Anko, it felt a little like a revelation and she hoped that Fuyu felt the same. It was necessary for them to move on to understand that their teacher had not been the only good influence in their lives. That their friendship, their love, had made them stronger than he could have ever made them with one of his stupid seals.

But most importantly, they needed to accept that it was a good thing that he was dead. They needed to allow themselves to be relieved fully, without feeling remorse about it. Then, and only then, would they be able to move on and be happy.

“I wish he would have faced some consequences at least,” Fuyumi said now as if she had perfectly followed Anko’s wandering thoughts. “I don’t think this village will ever give us the recognition we would wish for, but I would at least have liked to see him being punished. Dying is too easy.”

Anko nodded. “Yes. He got the easy way out there, but I’m sure Sasuke-kun really hurt him, so at least we can revel in that.” Fuyu laughed again.

They knocked heads again payfully and Anko said: “So no more winter in the living room from now on?”

“Promise,” Fuyu replied. “There is only going to be snow in real winter from now on.”  

Their heads touched and the tips of their noses pushed against each other. Anko leaned forward for a kiss. The only way forward was together, and the idea of that made Anko very happy.

#fanfiction things #other people's ocs #nisi follower celebration #anko mitarashi