#streaming ALONE let alone...everything else AND the fact that they can still WORK)

[laenordeservedbetter]

For Sam x reader.

Ghostface is back and had followed the Carpenters, the twins, and Amber's older sister, Reader, to New York. No one trusting her because of the fact that her little sister was Ghostface, Reader is in disbelief, and Sam breaks up with her on the spot. Fast forward to the end, where Ghostface is dead, everyone's being treated by paramedics, Reader is seen walking away from the scene alone. Kirby asks where she is, Sam then sees her walking away, holding her broken arm to her body, and runs after her and apologies for not trusting and believing her. (Reader saying it's too late for sam to apologize. She then walks away from her friends, from Sam.)

You're Somebody Else

Words: 1.4k

Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x Fem!Freeman!Reader

Synopsis: You were told that the biggest betrayal comes from the people you care about the most, but never did you expect it to hurt so much.

Warnings: scream vi spoilers, violence, spitting, cussing, angst, no happy ending. lmk if I missed any.

A/N: I wrote this at a coffee shop. I'm still here rn, so we'll see how many fics I can post before I go home. (This will probably be the only one)

not my gif. || masterlist || previous work

You stood before Amber’s Ghostface outfit, reaching out to touch the fabric before you remembered where you were -- who you’re with. The glares given to you by the rest of the group burned at the back of your skull. You can practically sense their judgments. Since the first Ghostface attack in New York, they pointed their fingers at you. You understood, given what you've all been through. Can't be too careful. You didn’t care that you saw the contempt on your own girlfriend’s face. You stayed by her side, understanding where she was coming from.

Being related to a previous Ghostface was something you and Sam had in common. When you are linked to a person with that track record, it sticks with you even if you are different from them. Trust becomes hard to give. And out of everyone, you figured your girlfriend is the one who understood the most about what it’s like. However, it looks like the sentiment isn’t shared.

She approaches you, getting the courage to ask, “Can we talk?”

You can tell what’s about to happen before Sam can utter what she wants to say to you.

Nothing good ever comes out of conversations like these.

“I’m sorry.” Sam stares, her gaze cold, nothing like the Sam you fell in love with. With each deafening step she takes away from you, your heart shatters just a little bit more. You are wounded by the way she’s looking at you. Any wound or injury you might sustain in the next few minutes will not compare to the poison laced in the invisible knife held against your throat by the woman you love. “I can’t take any more chances. I can’t trust you. We’re done.”

You scoff, glancing towards the group in hopes that they would back up your claim. “Sam, you know me. I would never hurt you or Tara or. . . Anika.”

Mindy flinches at the mention of her girlfriend’s name. Her stare hardens. “You have no right to say her name. We know you did it. You killed her.”

“Mindy…” Your voice breaks as your throat feels like it’s closing up. You can’t do anything to convince them, letting the stream of tears flow from your eyes. No one came to your rescue to prove your innocence. None of them trusted you. You felt pathetic, humiliated, embarrassed. Your eyes settle on Sam again. “Really? After everything we’ve been through together, you-”

Sam glowers. “It’s over, Y/n. Please, stay away from us.”

“Fuck you.” You turn your back, the hurt in your tone clear as day. “I don’t know you at all.”

“Maybe we didn’t know each other as well as we thought.”

It was one thing for you to walk away and another knowing that Sam would not be going after you.

-

“It was easy luring you away from the group. Guess we really can’t choose our family, huh?” Ghostface makes a tsk sound, the voice changer turned off.

He takes a step forward, but you stay positioned adjacent to the wall. That voice…

“Ethan?”

Ethan removes his mask, holding the voice changer to his lips, “Didn’t expect that?”

Of course it was him. Little by little, the pieces fall into place. The apartment attack -- that was probably Ethan. He wasn’t with the group. Not even the skeptic Mindy questioned his whereabouts. Your tears haven’t dried yet and you were as sure as hell they weren’t going to stop now. You bring your hands together in a slow clap. “Oh, wow, that’s… Fucking brilliant, actually.” Clutching your stomach, you let out what sounded like a painful cackle. “This is the part where I die.” You say. It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

“Oh no, no, no. See, that’s where you’re wrong.” Ethan smirks, gripping your left arm, applying pressure to where you had been previously injured a couple nights prior. “You are our scapegoat. I must give credit to Mindy for the idea. You have the perfect motive to be Ghostface! It was just gonna be Sam, but… The press would go crazier if it was a Bonnie & Clyde situation. Not that I care about that sorta stuff. It just works.”

You collect the saliva from your mouth, spitting in his eye. “Jokes on you ‘cause we’re not together anymore.”

“But they wouldn’t know that because by the time you get ‘caught’, all of your friends will be dead and you would look like the asshole trying to save yourself if you attempt to say the truth.”

Ethan places his free hand on your shoulder, pulling your arm with more force than necessary to guarantee that it would break. You stand there, biting your lip in order to hide the pain. If I screamed, it wouldn’t make a difference anyway, you said to yourself bitterly. There’s not a single person who’d give me the benefit of the doubt. In fact, they’d make me suffer worse, believing that Ethan did the right thing. Who knows what creative scenarios he came up with already.

-

The paramedics found you slumped down beside a row of chairs after Sam and the rest of the group defeated the three Ghostfaces. They wondered why you weren’t with the others, but with a quick word from Kirby, they left you alone, guiding you outside to treat your broken arm. One of the paramedics - Theo (that’s what you heard Kirby call him) asked if you wanted a ride to the hospital. You declined, insisting that you could get there yourself without anyone’s help.

You spare Sam a glance, observing her interact with Mindy, Chad, and Tara. Core Four. Good for them. Although you were glad that they are are still extant, you can’t stop the rancor that you feel as you stare at the four. You want nothing more than for this day to be over, move to someplace else, maybe change your name. Anywhere is better than here. It’s become clear to you how unwanted you are in New York. A change of scenery might do you good.

Kirby (the only person who hasn’t treated you like scum) situates herself in front of Sam, “Hey, where’s Y/n?”

Sam only notices your absence when Kirby pointed it out. “Shit. I…” She scans the area in search of your familiar eyes, guilt eating at her knowing that she accused you of being a killer. Because of that, you got hurt. She’d never forgive herself for it. “I'll be right back.”

The blonde detective nods in understanding. “I’ll stay with Tara.”

“Thank you.”

You were on your way to the hospital when a hand grasps your injured arm. Recoiling from the touch, you look back to curse the one responsible for hurting your limb only to meet Sam’s pleading gaze. “What do you want, Samantha?”

“Y/n, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for being careless, for not trusting or believing you. If I had, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” Sam touches your good shoulder this time, expressing her genuine apology.

But no matter how many ‘I’m sorry’s’ she will direct at you, it won’t take away what’s been done. “It’s too late, Sam.”

“What? No. We can try again.” She pleads desperately.

You couldn’t bite back the words the words that are on the tip of your tongue, feeling the last ounce of self control fray away. “Try again? Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds? You broke up with me because you didn’t trust me. You didn’t even try to understand my side!” The news reporters turned their heads at your outburst. They point their cameras to you, but you don’t make an effort to cut off your ebullition short. “All of you pointed your hands at me because what? I’m the sister of a killer?! If we’re basing our suspicions of all the Ghostface’s relatives, you should’ve been on the top of the list. The only thing I asked was for you to stand by me and you failed. So, no, we can’t try again. We’ll only end up worse than where we left off.” You finish, walking away from everything (not for the first time). “I’ll get my things out of your apartment tonight. After that, you won’t have to see me again.”

Sam stays still while you leave, clutching your arm in the process. That limb will heal, but the words that Sam has spoken won’t. There will remain a constant reminder of how you were betrayed by those you would give everything for.

So much for trust.

#samantha carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #scream 6 #scream #mindy meeks martin #anika kayoko #ethan landry

[mannaima]

My Best Friend Joel (part two)

Long awaited part 2!!!

(part one)

Summary: After having nobody else to turn to, you turn to the only person in your life you can trust.

Word count: 3.2K

Warnings: nsfw SMUT (18+), age gap (reader is 19 and Joel is 56), joel calls reader a whore (bc hes horny sorry), pretty tame stuff.

It had been five days since you last saw Joel, since you last made him cum, every day dragging on longer than the last. The first day you had waited in your bedroom, already dressed when your dad had left. The entire day up until curfew you paced around your apartment, excusing why he was late.

“Maybe he had to work today.”

“He wanted to sleep in.”

“He’s doing business.”

The second day, you still got dressed, but you waited right in front of the door, waiting for three knocks to indicate it was him. Still, nothing. You were very confused, he had hung out with you every single day for almost a week, he would tell you everything he was gonna do, but why would he just leave you now? You shook your head, it was only two days, what were you so worried about?

By the third day, you didn’t get dressed, in fact, you didn’t get up at all. You laid in your bed stroking the doll that Joel had bought you. Tears were now forcing themselves out of your eyes, your cold hand wiping them away. Did you do something wrong when you made him cum? Did he not like it? You didn’t enjoy this feeling, you felt so empty without Joel. You buried your face in your pillow and let out soft sobs.

The fourth day was a blur, more crying, more holding the doll and you didn’t even bother to leave your bed. The fifth day you stared at the ceiling. You felt so alone, not realizing how much having a friend made you feel complete. How much Joel made you feel complete. You shook your head, wanting to feel better, wanting Joel to kiss you. The air in the room was cold, but you didn’t bother to put on a blanket. You felt as if you deserved to feel uncomfortable, maybe Joel left you because you weren’t normal. You let yourself ponder and create false scenarios for hours until a harsh pounding came from your front door. It was the secret knock. You glanced at the clock, yep, it was your father.

Finally getting up to open the door for him, you were pushed back by the force of the door once the last lock was undone.

“What the FUCK did I tell you?!” Your father screamed at you, slamming the door behind him as he grabbed a hold of your shirt collar. You were terrified, your father had never looked so angry in his life.

“W-wha-” A harsh smack to your face made your head turn and your ears ring. You had shut up.

“Why the fuck did another officer tell me they saw YOU with grown man. OUTSIDE!” Tears had welled up in your eyes as you looked up at him, cowering in fear as he hit you again.

“I didn’t want to believe it. So I asked around. And it’s fucking true. After all I do to protect you, why would you disobey me?!”

“Dad I-”

“No! That’s it. It would’ve been fine if it was a one time thing. But for a whole week? You were out with a fucking criminal!” You shook your head, ‘Joel isn’t a criminal’ your head screamed ‘Joel’s a good man!” 

“I’m s-sor-” He pushed you back, your back hitting the wall with a thud. 

“That’s it. Grab all the shit you can, you’re out of here.” Your eyes widened at his words. No. He couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t.

“Dad please. Please d-”

“No! You wanted to be outside so fucking bad, well, now you can! For the rest of your life! Get fucking killed by the infected for all I care, since you clearly don’t care about it!” He screamed in your face, tears streaming down your face. You didn’t want to believe it, you didn’t want to accept this was it. But as he dragged you to your room, the reality faced you. This was the last day you were going to be home. Small sobs and hiccups left your body as you shoved what little you had into a backpack. You wore two jackets, your backpack too small to fit it all. Slipping on shoes and a beanie, you grabbed one last thing before leaving. The doll Joel bought you. You cried as you held it close to you. Giving your father one last look, he scoffed at you.

“And don’t you ever fucking come back!” He slammed the door behind you, your heart thumping out of your chest as you walked down the steps. You had never felt so sick before, your tears coating your cold cheeks as the large world didn’t feel so freeing anymore. There was only one person in mind as you walked along the depressing streets.

Joel.

—-------

With tears streaming down your face, you knocked on Joel’s door desperately, not caring how loud your whines were.

“Joel… Joel please… Joellll.” You knocked, almost dropping the doll with each light knock to his door. You wiped your tears and snot that ran down your face, and your eyes lit with relief as the door clicked. He opened the door and you wasted no time hugging him, burying your face in his chest.

“Joel… Oh Joel. I missed you… Please don’t leave me.” You sobbed into his chest, his arms still up in surprise. 

“Hey…Hey… I’m right here sweetie. Shhh.” He rubbed circles on your upper back, taking notice of your backpack and disheveled appearance. He slowly pulled you inside, locking the door behind him while he pulled you back to get on his knees, to get eye level with you.

“What happened sweetheart?” You began to tell him through hiccups and sobs what your father did to you, how scared you were. He comforted you, wiping your tears with his large thumb and pushing your hair out of your face.

“Fucking bastard.” He muttered under his breath, he was genuinely angry at your father for just dumping you on the streets, leaving you to die.

“Here, give me your things.” He began to slip off your backpack, and you let him. He placed them in his bedroom, and you slipped off your jackets and beanie.

“Joel…” You whined, looking at him.

“What happened sweetheart?” 

“Why… Why did you leave me? Did I do something wrong?” You looked up at him, and Joel swore he felt his heart break. His heart twisted seeing your puffy red eyes filled with tears, red nose dripping with snot, and quivering lips. He wanted to shoot himself for making you feel this way.

“No, of course not baby. I just….” He didn’t know how to put it, how to tell you. “I’m. I’m not a good man.”

“Of course you are Joel-”

“No. I’ve killed people. I’m not a good person. I’m a bad guy. I’ve been doing some… not so savory things these past few days. So, I’m sorry I haven’t visited. I’m sorry, angel.” You walked over to him, and wrapped your arms around his, as much as you could, at least.

“I don’t think you’re a bad guy joel…” You mumbled into his chest as he pet your hair, a smile over his face as he held you close to him. You both stayed that way for a while, hearing his heartbeat in his chest while you laid your head on him, feeling so safe and at peace. The world just seemed to stop when you were with him, you almost forgot about the fact you were basically homeless.

“C’mon sweetie, I bet you’re tired.” He kept petting your hair as you nodded, you weren’t really tired, but you just wanted to make Joel happy. He slowly pulled you back and held your hand while leading you to the bedroom, rubbing small circles into your palm.

“Let’s get to bed, baby.” He kissed your forehead and began to remove his garments. Your face was flushed, you couldn’t see him well in the dimming room, the sun’s light slowly fading away. You slipped off your pants, kicking them off your legs before folding them and tucking it in the corner. You didn’t know whether to keep your bra on, but you did just to be safe. You looked over and Joel had his shirt off, his large chest visible, your eyes averting his gaze.

“Come here…” His voice felt much deeper, much more breathy too. You responded with a small ‘okay’ and walked to him, eyes on the floor. He had a small smile on his face as pulled back the sheets to let you in first, taking in how your ass looked in black panties. You crawled over and laid down in the cold bed, shivering under the sheets.

Joel slipped next to you, having a lot of body heat, the bed immediately heating up.

“You’re so warm, Joel…” You rubbed the spot near him, a small sliver of warmth.

“Get closer then…” He said, arm going up, allowing you to rest your head on his chest while his arm was around you. You did just that, feeling so warm next to him, your body instinctively burying close to him.

“That’s a lot better.” You laughed out, making him chuckle as he looked down at you, his eyes showing a great load of love to you. His large hand slowly moving down and rubbing your shoulder, making you close your eyes as you felt very comfortable. Joel’s hands never stopped rubbing you, in fact, his hands moved slower down your body, until his hand was grazing your breast. He restrained himself and simply laid his hand on your breast, rather than grabbing it with the force he wanted to.

“Hey sweetie.”

“Yeah Joel?”

“Do you remember how you asked if you could cum?” You gave him a light ‘mhmm.’ “Do you wanna try right now?” You lit up at this idea. You were so curious and eager to get closer to Joel.

“Y-Yeah. How do I do that?”

“Oh you don’t have to do anything sweetheart.” You felt tingles in the way his deep southern voice ringed in your ears, squirming slightly. His left hand, still around your shoulder, began to grope your breast, making you squeak out in shock. His other hand moved to your belly, his large hand making you flinch as it moved down.

“You feeling alright, sweetheart?” His voice was deep in your ear, you whimpered and bit your lip.

“Y-yeah.” His hand continued to move further until his middle finger was right on your clit, making you jump. Joel chuckled, and his hand began to rub the pearl. You moaned out, and his hand moved from your breast to your mouth, his fingers now sliding on your tongue.

“I’ve barely done anything and you’re already acting like a whore.” You winced at his words, but you couldn’t stop the noises coming from your mouth as his fingers played against your clit. Moans became breathy as his fingers pressed deeper in your mouth, saliva coating his ring and middle finger.

“Suck on ‘em.” He ordered you, and you quickly closed your mouth to suck on his fingers, your cheeks hollowing in on them. They were so large, you couldn’t help but feel so aroused, it reminded you of when you had made him cum before, so you wanted to please him like you did them. His skilled fingers were still rubbing against your clit, your hands gripping the sheets with every circle he planted against it. Joel suddenly removed his fingers from your mouth, a ‘pop’ sound releasing from your lips, and a trail of saliva following it. 

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re so good to me, baby.” It was like his voice brought a shock of electricity throughout your body, you couldn’t handle the way he called you nicknames. The hand he was using to rub your clit now removed itself, making you groan, but your panties were suddenly pulled down beyond your thighs. Joel’s fingers, now wet, moved down and began to rub against your entrance.

“Joel!” You jolted from the feeling, and his warm hands made you feel something you never felt before. They slowly began to slip in, the aid of your saliva and your growing arousal creating slickness. He chuckled at your reaction and pushed his two fingers further, your pussy stretching out as he deepend it.

“You like it?” You moaned out and tried your best to form words. You could only let out an ‘mhmmm’ in a breathy moan before he was knuckles deep.

“Look at you, being able to take both my fingers in, so deep too. Such a good girl…” Joel’s fingers slowly moved back out, your walls still clenching as he removed most of his fingers, the tips of them just barely staying. He suddenly pushed them all the way back in, your moans breathy and your breath unstable. He pumped them in and out of you, going through variations of fast and slow, just to tease you.

“Joel… I feel funny…” His fingers continued to move, but his other hand pushed your face close to his.

“Not yet sweetie.” His fingers then pulled out of you, leaving you whimpering in a puddle of your own juices. You didn’t have much time to recover, however, as Joel was suddenly on top of you, one hand on the side of you, the other pulling down his pants.

“Look what you do to me baby…” You looked down to see his cock out, hard and throbbing. There was precum leaking from the tip, and you couldn’t help but feel flustered. Maybe it was just your imagination, but you couldn’t help but think he looked harder than he did your first time seeing it. 

His hand now grabbed your leg, pulling you close to him, you felt so small underneath him. His breathing was heavy, his chest moving up and down. His hands played with his cock, and moved the tip to be right up against your entrance.

“If it hurts, tell me baby.” He slowly pushed against it, your moans turning into groans of pain. You felt very stretched out, despite the amount of lubricant.

“J-Joel. H-Hurts.” He immediately stopped. Joel looked down and saw he was barely halfway inside your cunt, his cock twitching at the sight of that. You were so cute, whimpering in pain, it made him want to just fuck you already. But he wanted to be patient, he didn’t want to make you untrustworthy of him, but fuck did you look so hot when you wanted to cry.

“It’s okay baby, I’m right here.” His southern drawl made you warm with comfort, his head coming down closer to you to kiss you on the forehead. He pet your hair, trying to make you as comfortable as you could be, despite the pain. He stayed like that, cock growing impatient as it twitched, hoping you would give him the green light.

“I-I think… You can move now…” He nodded and began to push more, your whimpers of pain coming out your lips once more. Maybe Joel was too frustrated, or maybe it was just an impulsive thought come to life, but his next actions were questionable. He covered your mouth with his large hand, and sharply thrusted into you, his entire cock now filling your pussy. Obviously, you screamed in pain, but it was muffled by his hand. He realized his mistake and uncovered your mouth and began to kiss your face, still balls deep in you.

“I’m sorry baby, I don’t know what got into me. I’m sorry.” He whispered between kisses, small tears leaving your eyes as they shut in agony. You both stayed in this position for a little while, before Joel stroked your cheek.

“Can I move again sweetie? I promise I’ll be gentle.” After a few moments of silence, you nodded, a small smile appearing on Joel’s face. He was on his knees, and he pulled your torso close to him. He began to thrust into you at a slow and steady pace, making sure not to exit your pussy all the way. Your whimpers were a mix of pain and pleasure, your hands gripping the sheets.

“Joel… Feels so good.”

“Yeah baby?” His face was already covered in sweat, some pieces of hair sticking to his forehead. You nodded and kept your eyes shut. He thrust into you more, your pussy feeling so full. The room was now filled with your whimpers and moans, and Joel’s groans and small ‘fuck’s. Joel's hands grabbed the fat of your ass, pushing you closer to him, your body essentially being used as a fuck toy by Joel. He was groaning, using you much faster than what should’ve been gentle. Joel then pulled out of you, and grabbed your sides, flipping you over. You were confused, his hands moving up your ass slightly, before you felt the familar feeling of the tip rubbing against the entrance. You had no time to prepare before he entered you once again, this time, pushing his entire cock in you at once. You moaned at the pain mixed with pleasure, the position change causing a different feeling in the pit of your stomach. Joel’s thrusts were so powerful, you couldn’t handle it, the sound of your ass slapping against his lower stomach filling the room.

“J-Joel!” He moved closer to you, his lips kissing your neck as his cock continued to pound inside of your walls. 

“You like it? You like my big fucking cock?”

“Yes Joel! It feels so good!” You’ve never felt this good in your life, you continued the loud sounds coming out your mouth. Joel’s ego was filled, but he wanted the first time you came to be the best time in your life. His hands moved underneath you, and began to rub your clit. Your moans became animalistic at this point, eyes rolling back as you felt overstimulated.

“Joel! Joel…Joel I feel so good. Pleaseeeee.” You whined, you didn’t know what you were whining for, but you felt that feeling in your stomach once more. 

“Yeah. Cum for me sweetheart, let me feel you cum on my cock.” You buried your face into the pillow, face feeling so hot you couldn’t handle it. You felt closer and closer to the edge before you released, and you felt the best pleasure you had in your life. Joel felt your pussy clamp his dick so tightly, he could barely move as you moaned in pleasure, body twitching slightly. The mixture of just watching you cum around him and the actual feeling of it brought him over the edge, as your orgasm was ending, Joel’s began. His cock spurt strings of cum inside you, covering your wall, and you felt it. He squeezed your ass as he came, his body slouching over yours in exhaustion and pure ecstasy from his orgasm. You both stayed in this position, sweaty, heavy breathing and recovering from how you came. Joel made the first move and his cock slowly exited your pussy, droplets of cum flowing out, making him groan at the sight. As he pulled out and put his cock back into his pants, he curled up next to your sweaty and tired body. There were no words to be exchanged, both of you far too tired to say anything. But one realization suddenly popped up in the back of Joel’s mind.

He had cum inside of you.

#joel miller the last of us #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #tlou

[mlmxreader]

When Your Head's Too Loud | Nikto x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Angsty time with prompt number 30 “You were right, you were so, so fucking right and I hate it” and 34 “I love you, I really do” where reader is so frustrated of Nikto who doubting himself about not being loved in fact everyone actually love him and care for him. ❞

: ̗̀➛ Nikto's head gets loud often, but there is one person he can always trust.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, mental illness, depictions of d.i.d, saneism and ableism

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Nikto often doubted himself, doubted that those around him actually cared from him, and part of it was due to his Dissociative Identity Disorder, as he was often told that he was alone in the world and that nobody actually liked him, not even you.

It would usually make him stow away from everybody else, hiding out in the woods where you had first told him that you loved him, amongst the tall and towering trees that you would often climb and the thick bramble bushes that tugged him closer to their embrace.

Near the small running stream that was usually a murky olive colour, deep and dull green as it kicked up sediment and moss; the sound of it rushing would calm him, and drown almost everything else out.

Nikto knew that he shouldn’t have isolated himself from everybody else, he always got an earful about how unhealthy it was; but it made him feel safe, and it made him feel better.

Insecurity was not a new friend of his; even before the development of his disorder, he had always been taunted on the playground - the ugly kid. Billy no mates.

He had been picked on and kicked to the ground far too many times; a dog that had been beaten by its master to the point of giving up and giving in.

Nikto knew that his career was on thin ice, mostly because nobody wanted to work with someone like him; they called him names, and made comments about his disorder and how it made him violent, unpredictable… you never did, though. You never once did any of that.

His teammates trusted him, of course, but they still held some caution around him; the only one who ever truly let their guard down near him was you.

You would be completely at ease at his side, but for some reason, he still doubted himself. He would always still doubt himself.

Even now, as he sat up in his cot and looked around, he could feel your breath against his hip from where he had pushed himself up, and he could feel your arm lazily draped over him; he grabbed his mask, fixing it on quickly before taking a deep breath.

His eyes were wild and frantic as he heard them talk.

“No one likes you, you know.”

“Nobody can ever trust you - do you really think they’ll ever see you as anything but a psycho killer?”

“That’s all you’ll ever be to them - why do you think they keep calling people psychopaths? They don’t care about people like us, especially not you.”

“Stop it,” Nikto murmured, shaking his head. “Stop it. No, no. We are not- we are okay.”

You stirred upon hearing his voice, rubbing your eyes as you yawned and sat up, your hand coming to his shoulder as you blinked to clear the sleep from your eyes. “Nikto? Why are you wearing your mask?”

He glared at you, shaking his head again. “We’re not…”

“Not what?” You hummed, tilting your head to the side. Your voice still thick with sleep. 

He swallowed thickly, the sound audible and loud against the quiet, isolated room. “We’re not good enough for you. We don’t deserve you, never have.”

You scoffed, flopping back down and taking his mask with you. You held it on your chest, smiling as you traced it gently with your fingertips. “Like I give a fuck. Did you forget that I have plenty of blood on my hands, too?”

“You were right,” he muttered, although not to you. “You were right, you were so, so fucking right and I hate it. We’ll never be loved…”

You cleared your throat as you gently smacked the back of your hand against his bicep, drawing his attention to you again. “I love you, I really do, Nikto. I don’t… I don’t let my guard down around many people, but you? I love you enough to never feel unsafe when you’re nearby… even if I’m being shot at.”

He grumbled, slowly lowering himself down so that he was laid next to you, pressing his temple to yours. “You sound almost angry…”

You shook your head, stealing a quick kiss as you sighed. “I’m not angry, just… sometimes, when I hear you talk like that, it’s kinda frustrating - you can’t see yourself the way I do, you can’t see how much you make me laugh when you tell your shit jokes. You can’t see how much my heart races when I get to see you after a day apart. You can’t see how handsome you are… I adore you, every inch and every atom. I adore you… and so, so many of your teammates love you like a brother, they might not adore you like I do, but they do love you, and all of us care about you unconditionally.”

“You mean that?” Nikto asked quietly.

You nodded, leaning into him. “Forever and always. I wasn’t… I wasn’t gonna ask you until we went to your house during our break, but…”

“But?”

“But, would you marry me?” You asked softly. “And I don’t mean it out of pity - I’ve been thinking about asking for a while, now, and… just seems like the right time.”

Nikto nodded, cracking a smile. “I would.”

“I don’t have a ring,” you admitted with a soft laugh. “Can I give you a bit of barbed wire, instead?”

He nodded. “In the morning.”

“Alright,” you smiled, stealing another kiss. “Next time you have doubts… do me a favour? Just wake me up, please. I don’t want you to suffer in silence thinking… y’know.”

Slowly, Nikto nodded again as he turned onto his side and put his arm over you. “Thank you.”

“You know this,” you whispered. “But if shit’s getting too loud in your head, we can go down to the woods together. I’ll keep out of your space, if that’s what you need. But if we go down together, you won’t get a bollocking.”

“I will,” he told you. “Thank you, my love.”

#mlem writes #nikto x reader #nikto imagine #nikto cod #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #call of duty x y/n #call of duty x yn #call of duty imagine #call of duty oneshot #call of duty one shot #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty fanfic #call of duty fic #call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #cod x y/n #cod x yn #cod imagine #cod one shot #cod oneshot #cod fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod fic #cod

[everlasting-elegy]

Caelus Relationship Headcanons

Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers Word Count: 1k TRAILBLAZER FEELING IN THIS HOUSEHOLD RN - CAELUS, WHAT A PRETTY MAN <333 Also first Honkai Star Rail post WOWOWOWOWOWOW A/N: Of course, being the MC there are various interpretations of Caelus’ personality but this is just mine, please enjoy~

Everyone on the Astral Express knew you two were going to be together before you became official. March 7 is very vocal about how she thinks you two look good together, Dan Heng gives just the slightest side-eye when you and Caelus hang out and Pom-Pom will make random complaints that you’re neglecting them for Caelus. Welt and Himeko will also make you two pair up for missions if only a duo is needed - or even for simple errands that could really be done solo

Despite that, it was hard for you to tell that Caelus liked you. He didn’t seem to treat you any differently to March 7 or Dan Heng (save for his tinted cheeks), he had no problem approaching you or interacting with you and he always enjoyed teasing you like a good friend with the rest of the group. It was only when the two of you were alone where the cracks would show, and he just makes terrible small talk as his mind draws blanks and he internally panics

“So… uh, nice weather today, huh?” “Caelus, we’re in space.” “Oh. Yeah. Right.”

When Caelus confessed to you, it was nothing excessive, in fact, he was a little too casual about it. You would usually have dinner together and one evening he started stuttering, saying he knew a fancy place to eat and that it could double up as a date. You needed him to repeat himself because you didn’t see it coming

While Caelus isn’t excessively loud or boisterous, he still carries himself with confidence and can dish out some good banter. Your relationship is full of those sorts of antics but when it comes to more serious and intimate moments, he gets shy very quickly. He’s not experienced with relationships and he can’t imagine anything worse than accidentally upsetting you. He’s the type to ramble on when uncertain, narrating his stream of consciousness until not even he could remember what he was originally going to say. Wake him out of his stupor with a kiss and he’ll be back in the moment with you (he still can’t remember what he wanted to say, though)

Caelus is your #1 fan, that man is rooting for you for everything. You need him for support in a fight? His weapon is at the ready. You want him around to help you study? He’s not the best at staying quiet but he tries his damn hardest for you. Do you need a break from any activity? Caelus is running in with a towel and refreshments and asking if you need anything else as he gives you a shoulder massage

Despite Caelus being very protective, he will never stop you if you want to do something dangerous such as joining him in battle. He wants to see you flourish and grow, and if that means being in harm’s way, then at least let him join you as your shield so that you two can get through this challenge together. For you, he’s ride or die, and to be fair that strategy has worked perfectly for the two of you so far

“One man’s trash is a Trailblazer’s treasure”; Caelus will bring back many trinkets for you from his travels, so much so that one wall of your room is just covered in his gifts. If they are indeed fished out from a trash can you won’t be able to tell, he loves to tinker and polish items until they’re unique and personalised just for you - you only deserve the best

No matter how frequently he’s gifted you little items, Caelus acts as though it’s the first time. He tries to play it off as something casual, that you shouldn’t think about the gift too much and he doesn’t mind if you’re not keen on it, but his face is bright red, one hand is nervously scratching the back of his neck and he can’t look you in the eyes

Caelus isn’t excessive on the PDA, but he’s still always touching you. He’ll gladly walk around holding hands and swinging arms or linking arms, or having his arm draped across your shoulders, and you’re not safe from pecks on the face and lips. He also loves to give hugs as a greeting and goodbye. He has no problem initiating affection but whenever you do you can literally see him perk up like a meerkat and walk around with a hop in his step. If you ever flirt or compliment him he gives back the sweetest, beaming smile that seems to contain the light of an entire Stellaron

Caelus is a bit of a gacha - and just general mobile games - addict, but he’ll always wait on pulling on the banner or opening a loot box until you’re with him. You’ve become his lucky charm and even though he only games to pass the time when there’s nothing to do, it’s not as fun if you’re not playing with him or at least watching and commentating

Sometimes you can liken Caelus to a puppy. If he’s bored or has nothing to do he’ll just… follow you around as you do your thing. If you need to enter a building alone or talk personally with someone, you can first expect him to get pouty before relenting and loitering around where you are outside. Whenever you enter the same room as him, expect him to immediately gravitate towards you

He’s an absolute nightmare when you two are separated, you’re not going to be able to go for five minutes without your phone vibrating about updates on the Astral Express and how lonely he is without you around and how you need to hurry up and finish what you need to do and- oh, Himeko just gave him permission to join you, give him fifteen minutes and you guys can spend the day together~

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#caelus x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x you #hsr caelus x reader #hsr x reader #hsr caelus #trailblazer x reader #gn!reader #honkai star rail imagines #everelegy writes #everelegy honkai

[mayfieldss]

I just discovered your existence and I love your work ❤️. If it’s not too much of a hassle could you please do a part 3 of cover fire where the other pogues find out what happened?

Thank you 😊

thank you so much, it's nice to hear when someone appreciates what you do!! Here's part three!

Cover Fire - JJ Maybank | Part three

Part one | Part two

Warnings; mentions of main character death, blood, guns, violence, language, and grief.

JJ didn't know how long he sat there with you, stained in red with your body limp against his own. He'd never known heartache like this, a pain so deep that he couldn't breathe, and when the ambulance finally arrived, he wouldn't let the paramedics take you. They tried to pull you from his grasp, but he couldn't let you go. He couldn't leave you alone with them, if he did it would cement the fact that everything that had happened was true. That there was no saving you.

In the end, they had to call someone. The paramedics asked JJ who they could contact, and he handed them his phone without a fight, unlocked and ready. "Pick anyone in the contacts, there ain't much there."

In the end, they picked John B, and when the boy arrived, he had the other Pouges with him, tears streaming down his face as he approached. "Oh fuck," It came as a sob when John B stood at JJ's side, the other Pouges told to wait beside the ambulance by the newly called police officers on the scene. "JJ, you have to let her go."

The words were gentle, John B crouching down with a hand over his mouth in disbelief. He's staring down your lifeless figure, the paramedics standing by in wait for John B to talk JJ out of staying there. "She's gone, buddy."

JJ's head hangs low, eyes closed as he cradles you. He's tired, and he's angry, but right now, he can't bring himself to do anything about either of those feelings. John B rests a hand on his shoulder, sniffling as he does so. He wants to scream, and he can hear the sobs of the others behind him as they wait for him to pull JJ away from you. "She's gone." He repeats, unable to think of anything else, and JJ's head snaps up.

"Don't you think I fucking know that?" It's something between a shout and a sob, JJ pushing back his friend with red eyes. "She's dead. I fucking know, I know." The last few words come out as a whisper, and JJ looks down at his hands, painted in your blood. "I couldn't save her."

It's then that JJ breaks down again, and John B leans forward, pulling his best friend into a hug as he cries. They both do, they sob until they can't breathe, till their throats hurt and their eyes have run dry, and somewhere between it all, the paramedics have taken you away. The other Pouges have pushed through the cops, and one by one they kneel beside JJ, avoiding the pool of your blood that stains the ground in front of him. They hold each other, John B, Sarah, Kie, Pope, and JJ, until they have nothing left to give. Until they can find it in themselves to stand, with shaky legs, and leave the scene. The paramedics insisted on checking JJ over for wounds, but he was left without a scratch. Somehow, that makes JJ feel worse. It amplifies the pain tenfold, drowning him in the fact that he gets to live on, scarless, whilst you don't live at all.

Two days later, JJ feels numb. Time doesn't mean anything to him anymore, and he's come to terms with the fact that he'll never see you again. He still hears your voice everywhere, sees you in everything he passes, and when he closes his eyes, he hears the bang of the gun and feels your blood rush through his fingers, an unstoppable river of red.

JJ told the Pouges what happened a few hours after the incident. He couldn't bring himself to speak about it right after it happened. Every time he tried; it broke him. Then he went to the station, told Shoupe and the other officers everything he could remember about your killer, everything that happened in those moments leading up to your death. And now he was angry. He was angry at the world and everything in it, and he wanted to stop feeling. He wanted to go back to feeling nothing at all because feeling nothing meant that at least he wasn't in pain. But maybe he deserved to feel pain, to feel the amount of agony that you went through in your final moments, the pain that should have been for him. The bullet that should have killed him. That's where JJ was now. Mentally, emotionally, and physically, JJ was in pain, and he let himself feel everything because that's what he believed he deserved.

He paces his room, dad long gone, and the Pouges giving him space whilst they mourn you themselves. He moves back and forth, hands ripping at his hair as thoughts of you, good and bad, flood his brain until he can't think of anything else. He aims his fist at the drywall, punching at it, and watching it crumble over and over until there's a hole bigger than his hand, a physical representation of his grief, in the wall of his bedroom.

JJ can't sleep, he can't eat, and he swears that every hour another panic attack comes to consume him, taking him right back to the moment he lost you. Red staining the backs of his eyelids when he lies down to rest, memories of dark burgundy coating his hands every time he goes to wash them. The shirt he wore that day was unsavable, the hem of it drenched in the red reminder of your passing. He got Kie and Sarah to throw it out, though he's not sure they did. They are mourning you too, he knows that, but he couldn't bear to burn the shirt himself.

The other Pouges sit in wait for JJ on the porch of the chateau. They haven't seen him in days, and when they went to check on him the door was locked, loud music blasting from JJ's bedroom window into the evening air. He wouldn't let them in. He couldn't. The only person he ever truly let in was you, and now that you were the reason for his suffering, what was he supposed to do?

Sarah had been crying for days, and today she thinks, is the first day that she has no more tears give. She sits in silence beside John B, staring at an empty chair. It's the space where you should have been, seated on JJ's lap and laughing at one of the boy's stupid jokes. Pope is dead quiet too, arm around Kie who lets out gentle sniffles every few minutes. She leans into him, and he lets her because there is nothing else for him to do. There is nothing for any of them to do, other than wait. Wait for news on your killer, wait for JJ to leave his goddamned room. Wait for you to come back to them, even though they know you won't.

"Maybe I should go check on him." John B's voice is hardly a whisper, but in the quiet, it sounds loud enough. His head lifts and his eyes scan his small crowd of devastated friends, minus two. It's bad enough that you're not here, it's only right that JJ takes his rightful place among the group. The others only nod, and Sarah stands with John B, looking pale as a ghost.

"I'll go with you."

It's then, that John B tries for a smile, though it almost breaks him to do so. Sarah understands, and takes his hand in her own, leading him toward the Twinkie.

JJ doesn't know what to do when they arrive. He hears them pull up at his place, the loud music usually blasting out his eardrums replaced with dead silence as he finally allows himself to think about you freely, instead of trying to push the memory of you away with obnoxious noise. They come straight in, and JJ knows it because, in the next five minutes, he hears a knock on his bedroom door. His dad is gone, so there are only so many people that could be on the other side.

"JJ, can we come in?" It's Sarah, and her voice is shaky. The quiet scares her, and she feels tears coming again even though she thought they were gone. John B has a hand on her shoulder in support.

"It's just us, just John B and Sarah." John B calls out, hoping the names of the people JJ cares about might break through to him. There's quiet and JJ stares at the ceiling, the flaking plaster above him doing nothing to dull his pain.

When JJ opens the door and steps out, relief floods through both John B and Sarah, though the sight of him is a gut-wrenching one. His eyes are red, and his hair is dishevelled more than usual, but the worst part about it is the lack of his signature grin. It's almost as though the old JJ doesn't exist, as if died along with you on that road.

"Hey, guys." Even his voice is different, he's tired, too tired.

"Hey, J, you wanna come hang at the chateau?" John B doesn't bother with the 'how you holding ups?' and 'how are you's?' he knows the answer well enough, all the Pouges do. All of them lost a piece of themselves the day you died, but JJ is broken, and John B is starting to think he can't be put back together.

JJ just nods, moving down the hall with John B and Sarah in tow. His fists are clenched at his sides now that he doesn't have your hand to hold, and his heart races with every step he takes. He wonders what you would be thinking if you were looking down on him right now. Were you pushing back against the walls of the afterlife trying to get to him, or were you watching with silent tears as he journeyed through life without you in it?

The chateau lacked its usual comfort when they arrived, but it was better than the dark curtains and broken walls of JJ's room. At least he wasn't alone here. "I'm sorry I've been distant." It's hard for JJ to say, but he gets it out, hand rubbing the back of his neck as emotions consume him. One by one the rest of the Pouges stand, and with lips quivering and arms extended, they pull JJ into a hug, the group of them holding each other together in a tight embrace. It's like Deja Vu, the display of affection so similar to the day of your death that it has JJ gasping for breath, harsh sobs making his knees weak as his friends hold him up. They're crying too, an endless understood feeling of grief expressed between all of them. They'll miss you forever, and nothing could make your passing less painful, but they've got each other, and they think you'll be proud of them for that.

-

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreads @hiya-its-amber @s00buwu

OUTER BANKS TAGLIST: @scenesofobx

JJ MAYBANK TAGLIST:

also tagging the people who commented on part one and two in case they’re interested and bc I’m annoying idk; @fallingforfictionalmen @chxostude

#jj maybank fic #jj maybank #jj maybank angst #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #outer banks #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank drabble #jj maybank blurb #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank oneshot #john b routledge #obx #outer banks imagines #outer banks jj #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank outer banks #obx fanfiction #outer banks fic #outer banks fanfic #jj maybank reader insert #jj maybank fic recs #jj maybank x you #outer banks season 3

[pacificwaternymph]

Hi so. Double life absolutely wrecked me. I am never going to be over DL!Pearl, that has now been accepted as a fact of life. So... would you mind fixing the canon for me?

Prompts 17, 24, and maybe 28? You don't have to do all of them, but they all fit the plot I'm imagining in my head rn, so I listed all three.

Thank you!!! Poor Pearl needs some more love :'( I love Scott, but Pearl deserved so much better than what he gave her. I will cite multiple tumblr posts and write a whole essay if you need me to to prove this. I don't have many things I'm this passionate about, but I will die on this hill.

17. "You don't have to be alone anymore."

24. "Unless you ask me not to in the next five seconds, I'm going to hug you."

28. "...I don't hate you." "...you don't?"

This one's a bit shorter bc I'm tired today. But I hope it will suffice <3

-

"I don't hate you, you know." Pearl blinked, and looked up at Scott. Her soulmate, who never wanted her. Who she had abandoned the first day and who in turn refused to have anything to do with her.

It was just the two of them, now. Somehow, against all odds, they were down to the last two. There was no one else to focus their anger on, no one else left in their way between them and victory. And so, there was no more avoiding what they'd been dancing around for so long.

"...You don't?"

Scott shook his head. "I'm angry, with you. And I don't know if I really like you, right now. But I don't hate you. I never did, really. It was just... easier to pretend that I did."

Pearl felt a lump in her throat. She looked back down at the lake before them so that she didn't have to face her soulmate's expression, completely unreadable. It didn't work, and she still caught Scott's eyes in the reflection of the water.

"Oh."

Silence fell over the two of them once more, nothing but the sounds of the surrounding forest to fill the space. Pearl wanted to say something, but the words stuck in her throat. How did she do it? How did she even begin to describe the complicated snarl of emotions in her chest that even a mere mention of Scott pulled back up to the surface?

She'd spent this whole time justifying everything she did with the fact that Scott didn't want her, that he couldn't stand her. He had Cleo, his chosen soulmate, he didn't need anyone else and certainly not her, reckless and constantly endangering both of them as she was.

Yet here he was. And his words didn't line up with her thoughts at all.

"One of us needs to die for this to end," Scott eventually said, pushing through the quiet in another attempt to reach her. "After that, it will all be over. We'll go back to whatever world we came from and we can forget this ever happened."

Pearl nodded. She knew this. Everyone in the games had known this, and she was sure that many of them were eager to leave this place behind.

Still, she had to wonder how the more functional pairs would handle having to leave their soulmates along with everything else.

"But... let's not do that." Pearl blinked, looking over at Scott with widened eyes. Had she heard him right?

"What do you mean?" She asked. Scott smiled wearily, highlighting the bags under his eyes.

"Wherever we end up, let's find one another. We can start over. We'll do better, be better." Scott's tone turned wistful. "You won't have to be alone anymore."

Pearl's breath caught in her throat. That was all she had ever wanted, wasn't it? To not be alone anymore. To have someone she could lean on, someone she could depend on not to abandon her at the first sign of trouble.

She was sure that she must have had something like that, in one of her past lives, to want it so badly. But she could not for the life of her remember when.

She sniffed, and Scott's smile dropped, turning to sympathy. Fat tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks, dripping down into the lake. Her shoulders began to shake, despite her best efforts to keep them still.

Scott laughed sadly, looking not too far from tears himself.

"Unless you ask me not to in the next five seconds, I'm going to hug you," he breathed. Pearl stared at him for a few seconds, then nodded slowly.

Then there were arms around her, pulling her in close, and a hand on top of her head, gently stroking her hair.

Pearl returned the embrace, fingers curling into the back of Scott's jacket and holding on so hard she was almost worried about hurting him. But he said nothing, so she didn't loosen her grip, burying her face into his shoulder.

Eventually, Scott began to pull away. For a moment, Pearl thought about not letting go. But if Scott truly meant what he was saying, and he really did want to find her in the next life and fix things between them, then she couldn't allow herself to mess this up. She released him, already feeling colder without the context.

"Alright," Scott shook his head, and pulled himself to his feet. "Let's do this."

He offered her a hand, and Pearl hesitated for only a few moments before she took it.

#double life smp #my writing #scott smajor #smajor1995 #dangthatsalongname #pearlescentmoon #empires pearl #ask game #writing prompt

[mar64ds]

I think what really gets me about Thomas (the toontown character we are talking about toontown) is that even if he has not been 'confirmed' to be aromantic the way they are written IS very clearly aromantic. Let me explain

A lot of my complains about implied aromantic characters or confirmed outside of story is that they barely show anything related to their aromanticism, if anything at all. It can be one comment, or it can be absolutely nothing but just trust me guys this character is absolutely aromantic. And that just... barely means anything to me

With Thomas, i haven't seen the team making a big deal about him, like 'look guys this is our aromantic character!!!!' Thomas is just quietly sitting in their office, and when you talk to them, they don't tell you 'by the way i'm aromantic'. They just tell you about their life, about their work, about their relationships and you realize oh... he is aromantic. Because aromanticism is a huge part of who they are, even when they are not directly talking about aromanticism itself. Being aromantic impacts the way he is, the way they think, the way they feel.

Thomas is someone that likes their alone time, he likes taking care of his plants, talking to them and keeping them company. He has a brother who is the most important person in his life and they would do anything for. Thomas talks multiple times about how he doesn't get romance, they are not interested in things like that, they have never dated anyone and have no intentions of changing that. He doesn't participate in the office gossip about coworkers having crushes on each other and he doesn't get why people do it, he doesn't judge based on who likes who. They don't understand the marriage the brother has with his wife, he believes she is not a really good person (and yeah he is right) and they don't understand why his brother stays with her. Thomas talks about how she doesn't bring positive qualities to the relationship, so why else would two people stay together? (very relatable aromantic situation). Thomas vents about how his brother used to always be by his side, but now he has a wife and he always talk to her and he barely talks to them anymore. Their brother was always the one person to talk to them, without him, he only has his plants. Thomas has started interacting with some of the new hires at least, but the way he words it was very satisfying for me. His lack of interest in romance doesn't mean he doesn't like interacting with other people. This could easily have been worded in a way that would be harmful to loveless aros like 'i dont feel romantic love but i still feel love so im not a bad person!'. Thomas worded it in a way that was mindful, intentionally or not, of loveless people, who are part of the aro community too

Everything that encapsulates this character has to do with aromanticism. He enjoys being on their own, but they also feel isolation. They care about others, like their brother, but his brother puts his priorities on his romantic relationship. They don't get situations that are related with romance and they state over and over that they are not into romance.

This is how you write a character that is implied to be aromantic. Intentionally or not. Although i would be shocked if it wasn't intentional considering this game has plenty of lgbtqia+ representation and you can even wear an aromantic flag lol Also the fact that it's so obvious what Thomas is trying to say

And i found it really fascinating because, a lot of times either a character is very openly aromantic or they are barely an aromantic character but the creators say they are. Thomas is a different case. He is a character that, to my knowledge, the creators have never openly stated in a tweet or on a stream that yeah he is aromantic, but the way this character is written is just... very clearly aromantic, without a doubt. Not vaguely implied, not one sentence, just everything that makes him himself

It made me think that we CAN have representation where the characters don't really need to say the word aromantic, but they can talk about aromantic experiences. I still want more characters and stories that state the word aromantic and that explore aromanticism further, but I would be happy seeing characters like Thomas too, especially since just like them, I have always been aromantic even before i knew the word

#⬆️ ignore me #insane person #corporateclash

[journeywynter]

Home

Pairing: GeorgeNotFound x Reader

Song Inspiration: Hey There Delilah - Plain White Tees

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 3,766

Warnings: Not proofread. Swearing, I think, really just the use of damn if that counts?

Summary: Take a look into Y/n and George's relationship between late-night calls and long-distance talks before George finally receives his visa and is able to meet the person he's loved through a screen all these years for the first time.

A/n: Timeline might not really match up but this is all fiction so it's okay. This isn't the fic I wanted to post but I wanted to put something else out there and the one I'm working on is a lot longer than I anticipated and taking a lot longer to work out than I thought. I hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey there, Delilah, what's it like in New York City?

I'm a thousand miles away, but girl, tonight you look so pretty, yes you do

Time's Square can't shine as bright as you

I swear it's true

"How has everything been? Are you doing alright? Did you sleep enough?" George questions through the phone. Just barely did he let me get a simple 'hi' in before he began his assault. Not that I mind it much, it's nice knowing how much he cares. It makes up for the fact that I can never see him face-to-face. I've offered to fly out to him but he's refused time and time again. Something about not being sure he'd be able to let me leave if we met before he finally moves to the states. I think really he's a bit scared but I'd never push him if he is, so I just accept his excuse. Still, it doesn't make it easier, especially not with our five hour time difference. It makes catching each other difficult and sometimes I just miss his voice.

"I'm perfectly fine, no need to worry about me. How are you? You just got done recording with Dream and Sapnap, yeah? How'd that go? Have you gotten anything to eat or drink yet?" Listen, I never said I wasn't just as bad as he was, I could be far worse though. He gets so into his recordings and streams he'll go long periods of time without drinking any water or eating any meals, let alone a snack. I'd rather like it if our first time meeting wasn't because I'm rushing out there on a whim because the man doesn't take care of himself.

"Yeah, yeah, I took care of myself today, love. No need to worry about all that." He reassures me, which honestly does very little because I know his version of taking care of one's self, but I choose to trust him this once. "Have I told you that you look positively stunning today?" It comes from his mouth, smooth as butter, yet I imagine he spent some time rehearsing those words. I doubt it was to a mirror, but I find the image in my head hilarious so I don't bother with asking him how it was practiced.

"Really? I'm just getting back from a day out vlogging and I'm sweating and disgusting."

"You never look disgusting to me." He's quick to say, almost too quick, maybe I'm more predictable than I like to imagine.

"Oh yes, I'm sure," I muse with a smirk, "I don't doubt you would be saying that even if I was covered completely head to toe in mud."

"I don't think you ever could not look perfect to me. I'd stare at you over any shiny lights any day."

"Even Times Square?" I question him. Times Square all lit up has to be hands down the most beautiful thing I could fathom. The city itself is an entirely different situation. Though I love it, even with it being a bit run down, it tells a story and it's lived in. It's a mixing pot of all different types of people, all willing to share a chapter of their life with you if you dare to ask. The people you see, the places that are loved, the lights of the city are the definition of beauty.

"Times Square could never compare to you."

-----------------

Hey there, Delilah, don't you worry about the distance

I'm right there if you get lonely, give this song another listen, close your eyes

Listen to my voice, it's my disguise

I'm by your side

I've had a horrible week. The video I was set to put out tomorrow got corrupted, the files all got damaged somehow as well, something I can't seem to fix. The audio on my back up videos is gone. It's just not there at all and I can't exactly just do a voice-over for them. I promised I'd have something out and I know it's not a huge deal, I'm sure everyone that watches would understand, yet I can't help but feel like I'd be disappointing them.

I had a fight with my parents, they've never particularly liked how I make my living. They thought I'd grow out of it by now and gotten a 'real job' and I had thought after all this time, they'd see it's far more than just a hobby to me and at least start trying to understand. It's my passion, I couldn't imagine ever doing anything else with my life, this is where I'm meant to be.

And I can't even talk to George today to make it any better. Tommy is streaming and one of the people he originally had with him, Jack Manifold, had to drop out for some personal reasons. George being the friend he is, stepped in to fill the place. I don't blame him, obviously, it's so sweet that he'd drop all his plans to support his friends, it just sucks a bit.

That's why, instead of being productive like I should be and trying to figure out my problems, I decided to join the stream half way through. If I can't talk to him personally, at least I'll be able to hear his voice. It's always comforting. It's almost nice even to hear Tommy's obnoxiously loud voice accompanying him as well.

"So, George, I do have to thank you for coming. You weren't meant to be doing anything important, right?" He overplays it for the audience, almost like he's joking, perhaps even being condescending, like George has nothing going on for himself, but being friends with Tommy allows you to see past the ruse. He genuinely hopes he hadn't pulled George away from anything.

"It's good. I was meant to be talking to my girlfriend but she understood. She actually almost forced me to show up for you when I tried telling her if she needed me then I'm sure you'd be able to find someone else to step in."

"Ah, how's she doing? How are you guys doing? what with the distance and all?" We hadn't told anyone aside from from close friends, Tommy being one of them, that we were together. Everyone else knows that we're both in relationships, respectfully, but not a lot of information aside from that is known to the public.

"She's good, she's got some big plans coming up that she's excited about, been working on them for awhile now. I don't like to delve into anything but she's great. I really think she's the one. I haven't told her that yet, but I do think she's it for me."

And just like that, without even knowing it, he made one of the worst days I've had by far into one of the best.

Oh it's what you do to me.

----------------

Hey there, Delilah, I know times are getting hard

But just believe me, girl, someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar, we'll have it good

We'll have the life we knew we would

My word is good

Hey there, Delilah, I've got so much left to say

If every simple song I wrote to you would take your breath away

I'd write it all

Even more in love with me, you'd fall

We'd have it all

It's been harder than ever, recently, finding time to interact with George. Our careers are blowing up more than ever, we have more of a responsibility now and we're feeling the pressure of producing content like we're robots only programmed to push out video after video, stream after stream. I love this, it's what I've always wanted, but I think a break is in order soon.

It's weighing on my relationships, my family, my friends, and even with George. We send good morning and good night texts every day, yes, but it's starting to feel disingenuous when that's all we ever say. I just wish there was time to properly interact, have genuine conversations where we talk about our aspirations and not just surface-level fixations. I'd like to not talk about the next time we're scheduled for a video just this once.

It doesn't help that I started college, just as a fail-safe. Really a compromise to get my parents off my back for the time being. The classes have been adding to my never-ending pile of stress. I love the course I'm taking and I'm actually glad that I decided to go through with it, if for nothing other than it being something I'm interested in, but that doesn't mean the long classes with hours of homework haven't been hell.

Maybe I'm happy, for once, that all this has stacked up on me, otherwise, I probably would have missed the text that only proved that maybe, just maybe, all of this wasn't for nothing and proved that my relationship wouldn't crash and burn either.

Hey Y/n, we haven't really had the time to talk, not recently at least. I just wanted to remind you that I'm still here if you need me, I'm not leaving. I'm not good with talking about how I'm feeling and that gets in the way oftentimes, but I'm happy you're in my life. I love you.

Yeah, George and I will be just fine.

Oh, it's what you do to me

--------------------------

A thousand miles seems pretty far

But they've got planes, and trains, and cars

I'd walk to you if I had no other way

Our friends would all make fun of us

And we'll just laugh along because

We know that none of them have felt this way

"So, Y/n, seems like you've been spending a lot of time on the phone recently. Any particular reason?" Dream asked, a teasing smirk pulling at his lips. The same type of smirk that told me he knew damn well what was going on already.

Not like he doesn't know about George and me, it's just we have been spending more time talking on call recently. I think it's just because everything's finally slowed down for the both of us a bit. I decided to take a temporary break from videos. I do the occasional stream but since I just finished my first year of college, I think I just needed time to recuperate so I didn't completely burn myself out. It was taken extremely well by the public, everyone seemed so understanding. Of course, there are a few bad apples that felt entitled but the overwhelming positivity drowned that all out.

And George, while he hasn't gone on a break, has decided the rate at which he was shoveling out content was getting unhealthy and has reigned it in a bit. He's worked his schedule around so that he's not pushing himself to stream so much and he's no longer pushing himself to record so many videos at once, whether alone or for others.

It seems like we've finally had an opportunity to reconnect properly and it's been refreshing. Like the first breath of fresh air after being cooped up inside for weeks on end. Or the first sip of a hot drink on a day so cold you feel your face going numb.

"Oh Dream, don't you worry, I'm sure you'll get your boyfriend back soon. Can't go ruining our precious DNF, now can I?" I poke fun at their fanbases' favorite pastime, shipping the two creators.

"Oh come on, as if. It's like you're obsessed." He retaliated, jokingly/

"Yes, I'm obsessed. I'm head over heels, somebody please catch me, I might faint." I say monotonously, not that my statement is far off from the truth. I really have fallen for the brunette, more than I'd like to admit. I don't exactly do a very good job keeping it hidden from him anyway.

There's a silence for a moment, one where it feels like it's just teetering between deciding if it wants to be comfortable or not, before the two of us burst into our own fits of giggles. Nothing said was all that funny, but each time we'd go to calm down, we'd fall right back into laughter given the smallest glance at the other. Using the other as support, I straighten up from my hunch position on Dream's couch. The only reason I'm here is that recently he asked George, Sapnap, and me to move in with him. Sapnap was here the very next day, I had taken a little bit more time before deciding there was no harm in joining the, though nobody would know I'd moved in with them until George also moved in at least. Unfortunately, George is still waiting on his damn visa and it seems like he'll be waiting for a while longer.

"I'm happy for you," Dream suddenly sobers up real quick, a serious expression covering his typically relaxed face, "the both of you. I've known you both a long time, I don't think I've ever seen either of you happier than when you got together."

"Thank you, Dream. That means a lot, especially coming from you." I admit. "And don't worry, I'm sure you'll find someone else, too. As much as I love DNF, George is mine. You'll have to find a new boyfriend." I jab at him, effectively lighting the mood again.

Delilah, I can promise you

That by the time that we get through

The world will never, ever be the same

And you're to blame

-----------------------

Hey there, Delilah, you be good and don't you miss me

Two more years and you'll be done with school

And I'll be making history like I do

You'll know it's all because of you

We can do whatever we want to

Hey there, Delilah, here's to you

This one's for you

"How is college?" George and I have been on the phone for a little over an hour, having a video date night thing. We're watching the Harry Potter movies in order together like we've done a million times before, while in our pj's with some snacks. This is how a lot of our 'date nights' are and I wouldn't trade these moments together for anything other than being able to do this with him in person.

"They're good. I'm halfway done, about to start my third of four years." I reply, my attention only half on him as the other half is watching Harry as he's confronted with Sirius Black in the Shrieking Shack, probably my favorite scene from my favorite installment of the movie series, "Two more years and I'll finally be out of there. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to have had this experience. I'm really glad that I went to college even if I'm not going to be using my degree any time soon, if ever. But it'll be nice to put my YouTube career back into full swing again. And then maybe I'll be able to really play a part in the history you, Dream, and Sapnap are making for the Twitch and YouTube platforms. You guys are making serious waves right now"

"I wouldn't say we're 'making history' per se, but I do realize how big we've gotten. It's crazy how fast it all happened, we all got so lucky. I appreciate all the support we've gotten, I really wish there was a way for me to show it the way I want to but everything feels a bit forced."

"Don't worry, if anyone will be able to figure it out, it'll be you. Just give it some time and I'm sure it'll work itself out. It probably feels forced because it is forced." I reassure him, trying my best to comfort him with just my words. He seems to lighten up a bit, which means I can only hope he'll take my advice.

For a while, we both turn back to our respective TV screens, we're at the part where it's just been revealed that Scabbers, Ron's rat, had been Peter Pettigrew all along. I still remember the shock that ran through my body the first time I watched the movie. Now, I just get angry knowing one of my favorite characters won't be set free and will remain a fugitive. Some say I get too attached to fictional characters, I'd say I'm healthily sentimental and I just think Remus Lupin and Sirius Black deserved better than they received.

Third Person POV

Y/n became so focused on the movie, the anticipation still eating her alive whether or not she know the outcome, that she doesn't even notice George had turned his gaze from the screen to her face on his phone. She's unaware of his thought, all of which revolve around the h/c girl. How he wishes to be there with her, how he wants to finally hold her in his arms and kiss her head when she gets worked up over Pettigrew's escape. How he wants to hold her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles soothingly when she tightens them too hard into a fist to control her anger over something as silly as a movie.

But that won't be happening, not yet at least. She hadn't realized it then, but that was when George decided he'd do whatever it takes to be there, in America, with his lover and his best friends. That's where he belonged. As much as he loves his where he grew up, no matter how much he loves London and the UK, he knows home is wherever they are.

---------------------

Two years later:

Oh, it's what you do to me,

Oh, it's what you do to me.

Y/n finally finished college, which had become easier over the past two years, believe it or not. She was currently getting ready for her graduation ceremony. She and George hadn't talked very much the past couple of days over both being mutually busy. He did know of her ceremony taking place today, she had told him a month prior when she found out the date herself, and he took time to call her briefly to wish her congratulations, making a poor joke about not tripping up while walking across the stage.

Unbeknownst to Y/n, George had gotten his visa, just about a week or so prior. Having known of her graduation ceremony was coming up, he decided he'd surprise her instead of letting her know he was coming. Everything had been extremely rushed, booking the flight for the day before her graduation to make sure he would arrive with enough time to actually be able to show to her graduation. Sapnap had picked him up last night from the hotel room and brought him to a nearby hotel to their house, to his soon-to-be home, while Dream kept Y/n occupied.

Now, he was rushing to get to the predecided spot that Dream and Sapnap chose to lure Y/n to for the big surprise. He was running shaky hands through his hair every few moments as he tapped his foot against the pavement. He'd say, usually, he's pretty good about concealing his anxiety but something about this girl just had him constantly falling apart in the best way possible.

Focusing on his breathing, trying to steady it into even breaths, he heard the sounds of steps growing nearer. Peaking his head up, he saw his two best friends body blocking someone from his view, though more so they were trying to block him from their view.

"Okay, seriously guys, what is going on? You barely gave me time to say goodbye to my friends and thank my professors one last time before almost yanking my arm out of its socket to drag me off!" He heard the voice his only ever heard over static phone calls before and his heart almost stopped. If it wasn't for the fact he could feel his pulse in his skull, he's sure he just might have dropped dead.

"Calm down, this was important. We're gonna step away now, the floor's all your's." Sapnap retaliated before he and dream removed their forms from in front of the girl, breaking their little human shield. Finally seeing the girl face to face, cap and gown and all, had his heart-stopping. It might be crazy but he swears she looks even better in person than she did over the phone, which he swore up and down to be impossible.

It seems like he wasn't the only one in disbelief, the only difference is her's was planned on his end, as all she could do was stare. Was this real? Had she just dreamt up everything she could have hoped for just to open her eyes and be disappointed?

"Dream, pinch me." The h/c haired girl spoke up after some beats of silence.

"What?!"

"I said, 'Dream, Pinch me.' Now do it before I wake up." She demanded, only half expecting him to actually do it so it completely caught her off guard when he did. "Ouch!"

"You told me to pinch you!"

"I know, and I appreciate it, thank you." She gently thank him before swiftly turning back towards George and flinging herself onto him. Her legs wrapped around his waist as her arms made their home around his neck, squeezing him almost to the point of suffocation, not that he minded.

"It's really you. Five years of being with you, many more years of being your friend, all online. Through a screen. And now you're here." She sobbed out into the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath of his scent, willing it to her memory as she was sure she would for everything involving him.

"I'm here, love. I'm not going anywhere not. I'm with you, I'm home." He reassures, whispering sweet nothings into her ear until her breathing begins to steady out and he can feel her wiping her face with the palms of her hands before pulling back, gently unwrapping her legs from his waist to touch the rough ground on her tiptoes, never truly leaving his hold.

"It's really you." She whispers once more, carefully cupping his face between her two hands, so soft you'd assume she was scared to break him like he was made out of porcelain.

"It's really me and it's really you. Just like it should be." He leans down himself, tilting his head a bit to the side, his lips stopping an inch or so from her own.

"Can I kiss you, love?" She swears she can feel her heart stop at his question, eyes shoot up to his excitedly before rapidly bobbing her head up and down.

"I've waited five years for this moment, if you don't kiss me now I'll go insane."

And just like that, their lips finally connected. For the first time in half a decade, they were in the arms of the person they'd loved for so long. The butterflies erupted in both their stomachs as the heat raised to both of their cheeks. George's blush is far more than noticeable to bystanders but neither has a care to give. Not when they're finally home.

Oh, it's what you do to me,

Oh, it's what you do to me.

#georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound x y/n #gnf x reader #gnf x you #georgenotfound #gnf

[goldenavenger02]

I gave my blood, sweat and tears for this

Lloyd processes the events of Crystallized. For @the-writing-trash-panda

'Breathe in, hold, breathe out, hold. Think of it like a slow flowing stream instead of a rushing waterfall. And again, breathe in, hold, breathe out, hold. You've got it now.'

It wasn't hard for Lloyd to follow the advice that Nya had given to him on one of those stormy nights after everything happened with Morro; in fact, her advice was practically a constant in his head these days.

As soon as the monastery was reconstructed, many of the people who had stuck around to help repair it had left and while that had been expected, Lloyd would have been lying if he had said that he didn't want his dad to stay.

He knew that the others wouldn’t understand and he couldn’t even blame them with how much pain his father had caused all six of them since he had been brought back; at the same time, he was just now starting to see that the good in his father was returning with how much he had cared about the plant and how much he cared about…

‘Harumi.’

Lloyd pushed back any thoughts of her and tried to return his focus to the task at hand; working on how to control the Oni inside of him where no one could get hurt. 

But the lingering fact was still in the back of his mind about how she had saved his life that night and how he may never be able to forgive her for everything but he also couldn’t stop himself from caring about her wellbeing.

He forced his short fingernails into his palms and closed his eyes as he focused on Nya’s words.

'Breathe in, hold, breathe out, hold.’

“Lloyd?”

He knew that wasn’t his internal voice and opened his eyes to see his uncle approaching him; even as the man was growing more weary, he still had that same youthful look in his eyes that Lloyd had seen when he had to face his father for the second time in his life.

“Hey, Master Wu.” Lloyd straightened his back and tried to seem as preoccupied as possible, hoping that he wouldn’t be questioned on why he was in there in the first place, but his uncle seemingly could always see right through him.

“Is there a reason you’re training at,” his uncle stopped to look up at the analog clock on the wall before returning his gaze back to him, “two forty-seven in the morning?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Lloyd shrugged off the obvious concern and walked forward to try and send him back upstairs, “that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t rest though. Don’t worry, I’ll be up bright and early for sunrise exercise.”

“I know you will, because I can’t remember the last time I saw you sleep at night,” his uncle offered a sad smile and Lloyd knew fully well that he had been caught, “you know that you can talk to me about it, Lloyd. After all, he is my brother.”

Lloyd’s stomach churned at the thought of telling his uncle everything, at the thought of telling anyone anything. His father, Harumi and the fact that he was petrified that he would hurt someone if he fought again, was his burden.

‘I can’t put that on anyone else. Not when they’ve already done so much for me when they didn’t have to.’

“I understand,” Lloyd nodded with a dry swallow, before forcing himself to look his uncle in the eyes before continuing, “Can you just leave me alone now, Master Wu?”

He knew that any of the others with the exception of his mom would have pressed him further, but to his surprise, his uncle just nodded with understanding etched on his face and started to walk out of the room.

But before Lloyd could get back to work, he heard the parting words that would nearly stop himself in his tracks for the night.

“Lloyd, the world rarely stops for any of us and I have a strong feeling that things are going to return to chaos very soon, so as soon as you feel ready to talk, please let one of us in.”

But before he could question him about what he was seeing in his visions, the doors closed behind him and he was forced to go back to the grounding technique Nya had taught him and use it in his attempts to have control when he awoke the Oni inside of him.

'Breathe in, hold, breathe out, hold.’

#ninjago #lego ninjago #angst #lloyd garmadon #master wu #ninjago crystalized #post crystalized

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

I don't think Layover did great tbh. Terrible on YouTube (including all his MVs, Tiny Desk, and music show performances), underperformed in the biggest music markets, did poorly on k-charts (that debut was abysmal compared to the other members), predicted for less first week albums in the US than D-Day despite an extra version (but waiting on chart). Here’s a chart I’ve seen floating around Twitter that gives a good idea. Probably need to verify some of it, but I think it’s mostly accurate...

https://pbs.twimg.com/media/F6LDbz4bYAADB7M?format=jpg&name=medium

His fanbases started working really hard on his first week Spotify streams when they realized he wasn’t doing great anywhere else, so he ended up with higher first week streams than FACE and LC, but barely, and most of his streams came from SEA (which isn’t a big deal or anything, but a lot of it was definitely from mass streaming farms). He also had a massive day 8 drop and allegedly way lower than day 8 for FACE. And let’s note that Layover has one extra song instead of an interlude too. He’s also higher on some official album charts, but that’s only because FACE wasn’t eligible because it’s an EP. He had much bigger overall album sales, but we were expecting that with vbar. I think they bought like 840k? So over 1/3 of his sales.

Unless I’m missing some achievements or got something wrong (I haven’t kept up with everything), I think it was a pretty meh debut considering all the promo he did and the fact that he’s “the most popular member”. They only have those first week streams, pretty sure. LMA has had good longevity though, so I guess we'll see. And BTW, they’re saying his hot100 performance was hurt because of DC2 sales being gone, which, sure, but he had 50k Slow Dancing CDs to compensate, way more than LC, and they couldn't even completely sell them out. I think his stans were using VPN to buy on iTunes in the US too because a few days in he went from 1 to 44 on iTunes chart with no explanation and never recovered. Curious what his final sales end up being. I'm not saying he did bad, but I don't think it's really anything to brag about either... I haven't seen a ton of objective people talking about it though so idk for sure.

The spreadsheet is killing me hahahs #dedication. I would like to know the missing numbers and positions, tho! Still, thank you.

I knew about kcharts, youtube, albums, and first week on spotify for the album. I saw some number that I assume included his prereleases, and it really is nothing major considering the first tracks released, and the fact that it had one more song than face. Just five minutes ago I saw that on their 8th day, like crazy (combined) had the same number of streams as Taehyung's entire album??

Sidenote: if there's one thing I was forced to learn this year, is how much difference combined versions of a song can make.

I don't think he had that much of international promo, or at least I didn't see it. I know he's been to A LOTTT of korean shows, and also his promo for pre-releases was already longer than Jimin's, but I think he just comes across as a really uninteresting person so I don't know if people would actually tune in to his music, no matter how many times they see him on TV. He definitely got more than Jimin, that's 1000% for sure, even if we consider the MVs alone; he got the same thing Jimin was denied.

I knew he'd get more albums sales, because past experience. And I knew they'd try hard to stream to break some "records", even if it won't hold up for too long. I also knew he doesn't really have many fans in the US, (I still think Jimin's the most popular member there). I've also been saying since the day I opened this blog that his "popularity" is overrated and he's never really been in the same league as Jimin when it comes to music. I blew off so many people here who would come up to me and try to convince me he was competition to Jimin or better than him in some way.

I guess the only thing I'm surprised with is youtube. I got his tiny desk video on my homepage today (saved it to watch later) and it has less than 300k views.......... It's kinda crazy. I wonder if part of the reason he got his visual album was because his youtube numbers were usually better than everyone else's combined and they believed he'd do good.

Oh, and the songs credits. It's unbelievable to me that he did NOTHING on it. People who work on songs get credits even for writing two words, so I just can't wrap my mind around the fact that he didn't do anything at all.

I'm also curious if they would've restocked the digital CD had it been sold out, but my gut tells me they wouldn't have, or it would've been just one more, and a smaller batch.

[morganaspendragonss]

how in love and lucky i feel now

the 3.18 coda i've been 'working on' forever is finally done! up until two minutes ago this was titled 'engagement bitch!!!' in my doc and i did consider keeping it that way

title actually from skylights by lucy spraggan because this song is thee tarlos song

ao3 | 1.2k | 3.18, fluff and minor hurt/comfort, tarlos softness, references to gwyn's death

Telling everyone is harder than TK thought it would be. And not because he has any regrets — except for perhaps not doing it sooner. Proposing to Carlos felt as natural as breathing and being engaged to him is the light TK has been staring down the tunnel at for so long. He can’t wait for the moment they get married, but it’s also nice in this little bubble of theirs. The second they tell the gang, not to mention his father and Carlos’s parents, they’ll end up in a hurricane of wedding planning and everyone else’s conflicting opinions.

He’ll be grateful for them, of course, but his family — their family — have a tendency to be a bit…excitable. 

Still, TK also knows that he’s more excitable alone than most of the others put together, and if they keep it to themselves for much longer, he’ll probably explode. Which would be really inconvenient timing, because he’s still working on the whole will thing.

He meant what he said though; he is ready. He’s been ready, if he’s being honest, ever since Carlos called Cooper to the loft, but he couldn’t admit it back then. He’d been too scared of the implications of finding his place in life, of cementing his roots and saying, this is where I am going to spend the rest of my life.

Not that Carlos, or Austin, or the 126 have been in question; TK has firmly settled here, there’s no doubt in his mind about them. It’s more… He spent so long thinking he wouldn’t make it this far in life, and he’s had too many close calls with death now not to think something other than luck is involved. Not when so many people die every day.

Not when his mom—

Admittedly, the will thing was stupid. But it was something tangible, something he could control, and not writing it made him feel like he had a say in what happened to him.

It’s only now that he’s realising — if he lets this fear rule him, then he’s just stripping himself of that control.

Still.

He feigns exhaustion the next morning when Carlos tries to nudge him out of bed — 

five more minutes, babe

i thought you didn’t want to waste any more time?

— but in his defence, he really didn’t sleep much last night. And, really, TK doesn’t understand how he can be so coherent now after everything they got up to when three am Carlos seriously thought Lou had made his way back.

(and there’s some material for his vows…)

The truth, though, is that he doesn’t want to give this feeling up just yet. At some point, they will have to leave the sanctity of their bedroom and face the fact that the world hasn’t stopped turning just because they got engaged.

But not yet.

Carlos is easy to coax back under the covers. TK takes his time this morning, running his hand reverently over the lines of his body, the jut of his hip bone, the lines of his abs, the curve of his ass. There’s not even anything sexual about it, it’s just…love.

There’s something holy about lying here with Carlos, silent as the sun’s rays stream in through the windows, turning his fiancé’s skin to gold. And when Carlos leans in and kisses him oh so gently, it feels like a benediction.

Eventually, Carlos whispers, “We need to tell everyone.”

TK groans and closes his eyes. “Not right now though, right?”

“No, but we should—”

He doesn’t give Carlos a chance to finish the sentence, stopping the words with a kiss. When they break away, he rests his head on Carlos’s chest and hums softly.

“Five more minutes, babe.”

Five minutes turn into a day before they manage to get the crew down, and TK savours every second they exist like this. He’s turned into a giggly mess, unable to look at Carlos without smiling wider than he ever has in his life. Not that Carlos is much better, though apparently the post-engagement bubble is doing other things to him, which TK isn’t going to complain about.

When they do tell the gang — or, perhaps more accurately, the gang tell each other — it just feels like the bubble expands rather than popping. They’ve all been due some good news for a long time, and for once Catan is forgotten as they choose to spend the afternoon celebrating instead.

“You have already told Cap, right?” Mateo asks anxiously at one point.

TK shakes his head. “Carlos’s parents are out of town right now and we want to tell them all together.”

Mateo’s grip tightens on his champagne flute so much that it’s a miracle the stem doesn’t snap. “What the hell, dude!” he whines. “You know I’m allergic to keeping secrets.”

“They’re coming for dinner tomorrow,” he says. “It’s less than twenty-four hours; just avoid my dad if you really can’t keep a lid on it.”

Mateo still looks distressed, but then Nancy bounds over and loops her arm through his.

“Just stay with me,” she says. “It’ll be better than waiting for Captain Strand to yell at us to keep it down.”

TK almost chokes on his sparkling cider. He can definitely relate to that.

The next day, Carlos’s hands shake as they set the table for dinner. TK watches him obsess over every little detail, his eyes darting between the door and the oven and the table with increasing anxiety as the minutes tick on.

He doesn’t say anything for a while, but when Carlos starts fussing over the already perfect table arrangement for the fourth time, TK goes to him and grabs his hands. 

“Babe. They’re going to be happy for us.”

“I know.” Carlos bites his lip, gaze dropping to their joined hands. “I know, it’s just… After everything, I can’t… It’s still a little hard to believe that they’re…”

“Hey.” TK ducks his head so that their eyes meet. “I get it. But, baby, your parents love you. And they’re going to be happy for us. For you.”

He leans up to kiss him, but it’s broken when, as if fate were listening in, their buzzer goes off.

TK squeezes Carlos’s hands. “Ready?”

His fiancé heaves a shaky breath, then smiles and squeezes back. “Ready.”

In the end, the hardest part is the place setting he doesn’t get to lay, the phone call he doesn’t get to make. His dad tells him, when TK’s head is buried in his shoulder, how happy his mom would be, and how proud she is of him, and TK knows it to be true, but it’s not the same as hearing it from her. 

He does end up calling New York — even if his mom is gone, there’s still Jonah, still Enzo — but he can’t help but wish it was her contact and her voice on the other end. He almost does it, in fact; he can’t bring himself to delete her number from his phone, and the temptation to ring it is almost too much to bear. But leaving her a message feels a little too much like giving into the fantasy where she is still alive, and the pain of knowing she’ll never call back would be even worse for it.

He likes to think that she knows, though.

And, looking at the empty place at the table, he likes to think that she’s there in spirit, even if she can’t be in person.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #lone star #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #userbones #userjillian #tusersilence #tusererica #useream #kirassunshine #actuallysara

[iceagebabystanaccount]

Omnia Sol-Prologue

Twelve years ago, Rei Baji’s twin brother was murdered. Now in the year 2017, Rei is a twenty-six-year-old office worker with no friends, no lovers, no goals, and most certainly no life. On their way home from a bar they are unexpectedly attacked, resulting in their death. This causes them to somehow end up twelve years in the past. With this new chance to change their mistakes, they decide they are going to prevent their brother’s untimely demise. They reconnect with old friends and enemies, and gain new allies. Can Rei save their brother or will they again be forced to go through life alone? 

This work contains an unreliable narrator and an unlikeable protagonist. If either of those things aren’t your cup of tea don’t read this.

cw: Discussions of death, mild gore, alcoholism

His altar had been extremely simple, as they couldn’t afford much more. The portrait was his most recent school photo. His hair was down and uniform neat, for once. White chrysanthemums littered the table with some yellows sprinkled throughout. It was a basic arrangement. They picked it out with the help of their mother. It was also the cheapest option available. 

Grandpa Sano offered to help pay for the funeral arrangements, but their mother refused. She claimed that it would be wrong to make another family pay for Keisuke’s funeral. Rei disagreed. 

The ceremony had been odd. Rei had never been upfront during a funeral, their grandparents had died when they were only a few months old, and at Shinichiro’s, they’d been at the very back. Now it was Grandpa Sano and Emma in the back. Rei hadn’t looked at them. 

They didn’t pay attention to how many came and paid their respects, who burned incense and prayed. What did it matter? He was dead. That wasn’t going to change. They assumed that the funeral was much more important to their mother and friends, as their mother was a practicing Buddhist, and their friends had yet to say goodbye.

When Chifuyu got to the altar Rei peaked at him. Tears streamed down his face, making it bright red, and snot leaked from his nose. If he had been embarrassed, he didn’t show it. He stood tall when he walked down the line, allowing everyone to see the state he was in. He and their mother had matching faces. 

As Chifuyu was about to make his way back to his seat, their mother grabbed his wrist, gently pulling him to sit with them, a sad smile on her face. Out of everything done that day, Keisuke would have liked that. Chifuyu walked in front of them and took the seat to their right. It was then that they made eye contact for the first time that day.

Before that point, everything had been fine. A few tears were nothing, that day they had wept for hours in their mother’s arms, the shared pain between them causing their rift to knit itself back together. But at that moment, locking eyes with one of the few people they knew truly understood their pain, the shitty dam they had built broke. They were, in fact, an ugly crier. But didn’t they deserve an ugly cry the day they mourned their brother’s death? When else could they be a blubbering loser than at a funeral dedicated to their brother?

Horrific sounds spilled from their lips, filling the air and making everyone uncomfortable. Good, let them be driven to the brink by their cries. 

He had just missed their birthday. He hadn’t even been fifteen.    

They grabbed both their mother’s and Chifuyu’s hands, needing something to ground them. Their mother’s were warm and dry, as opposed to Chifuyu’s cold and clammy. They didn’t call him out on it, as they were still busy terrifying guests. 

Sometime during their wailing, a few members of Toman paid their respects. Mitsuya, Shiba, and the Kawata twins were the only ones they’d known.  

As Grandpa Sano and Emma walked toward the altar, Emma kept glancing at them. Her eyes were red, a deep well of compassion. Maybe Emma could’ve understood them on a greater level, as she too had lost her brother. That made Rei somehow feel worse.

Sano-san and Emma each plucked a pinch of makko out of the bowl and brought it to their foreheads, then they sprinkled it onto the burner. They bowed to Keisuke’s portrait, Emma looked at it every few seconds as she said her prayer. Sano-san had bowed low, much lower than was required. His lips didn’t part until Emma’s stopped moving. He prayed for a long time. After he was finished, they both rose and began their walk to the back of the room. Their departure caused Rei to realize something. 

Someone was missing. 

Rei looked at the line of guests waiting to pay their respects. They checked once, twice and then they were sure. Manjiro wasn’t there. He hadn’t come to Keisuke’s funeral. 

Good. He shouldn’t have been there. Rei didn’t want him there. If they had had any say in the matter he wouldn’t have been allowed at the funeral, or even near their family ever again. 

But, he didn’t come. How could he not? They were friends! They had known each other since they were 4 and 5! How do you not go to your friend’s funeral?! How do you get someone’s brother killed and not go to the funeral?! The entire situation was incomprehensible. The cold grief in Rei’s chest slowly heated, until it was burning hot rage. It made them wanna go find him and…

Then again, the thought of Manjiro strutting in, walking up to his altar, and praying for him made Rei wanna scream and throw up. The rage didn’t completely cool, just lowered to a less volatile temperature.

They had sat there for what must have been an hour more, but he never came. He never said goodbye. And Rei hated that almost as much as him killing their brother.

Late nights at the office are not enforced, but they are expected. The typical workday is supposed to be nine-seven, but many of their coworkers stay much later. Rei doesn’t. They leave as soon as they can, throwing all of their shit into their bag and all but racing to the elevator. Tonight is no different. 

They glance at the clock on their desk and quickly kill the computer. Springing from their chair and crawling under the desk to grab the pens that have ended up on the floor throughout the day. Some of their coworkers are side-eyeing them, but they truly can’t find it in themselves to give a shit. The bar is calling them. Tomorrow is a Saturday so no need to worry about staying out too late. After grabbing their bag and blazer they’re gone. 

The moment they get outside they regret it, the humid air causes their bangs to stick to their forehead with sweat. As they walk they can feel the perspiration gathering on the back of their neck, under their hair. It needs to be cut badly, having grown almost down to their waist. The black button-up and slacks don’t help with the heat.

It’s seven p.m. in July, so the sun is still out. The streets of Shibuya are still crowded, some people are like them, leaving work to go drink themselves into a stupor and hopefully quell their increasingly depressing thoughts. After all, alcoholism is better than suicide. Others are walking to their jobs, the nightlife scene in Shibuya is big. Some are just college kids or tourists coming to party and get scammed.

The traffic is terrible. 

Rei stands at the crosswalk waiting for the signal to cross. It’s gonna take forever. The already hellish heat is made worse by the hoard of people surrounding them, and the garish electronic billboards strain their already bad eyes. 

The people blend together when they are so close, a mass of heat and destruction Rei tries to get away from to no avail. The only one out of the hoard they take any interest in is the old woman standing a meter in front of them. She’s short and wrinkly and looks like she’s barely hanging on. She reminds them of their old neighbor, Chen-san. They never did find out her first name. She used to make wonderful dumplings, giving them to Rei when they would come to clean her apartment. She also would yell at Keisuke for being too noisy. That was always appreciated. Even though she reminds them of Chen-san, there is no way it’s actually her. She died when Rei was in high school.

A rowdy partyer bumps into the woman, and she goes flying towards the road. Rei imagines her being struck by a car and rolling over the hood, her head cracking on the pavement. The car plowing over her, as they had better things to do than help an old woman who didn’t have much time left anyway. The other cars would follow the leader, running her over again and again. She would cease to be a person, just entrails strewn along the road. A memory of crimson painting the tires. How long would she live? How much pain would she register before her old bones gave up? How much of her would people have to put into plastic bags and dispose of? What-

A young woman grabs her, pulling her close and away from the road. She tears the near-murderer a new one. 

The signal finally changes.

It’s not a great bar. It’s old, cheap and dirty. But Rei loves it. No one from work would ever dream of coming here, if they even knew it existed at all. Like so many odd and out-of-the-way places this bar doesn’t have a name, or if it does Rei is unaware. No signs are out front advertising its presence. Maybe it’s a place that just draws people to it, like a moth to a flame. A place you’ll find one day when you need it. Rei doesn’t put that much thought into it though. It’s just a place they go to get cheap drinks and not be judged by the other patrons. 

The stool Rei sits on is crooked, one of the legs shorter than the two others, so they lean heavily on the sticky bar. In front of them sits their can of Sapporo, two empty ones behind it. They are tipsy, a light flush on their cheeks. At twenty-six they’re still a light-weight. 

The lights are very dim tonight, making it hard to make out any of the bottles on the shelf behind the bar. Rei is happy with it though, as it gives their overworked eyes a chance to rest and not burn in their sockets. One of the bottles might say something about cream, Rei can’t tell. 

In October it’ll be twelve years since Keisuke died. Rei will turn twenty-seven, and he will remain fourteen.

They might come here that day, it’d be a lot easier than going to visit their mother. It’s not that they hate her or anything, it’s just…How do you go see the woman who gave you life when you know you disappoint her? They guzzle the last of their drink. 

A TV sits at the end of the bar furthest from the door. A man a few seats down from Rei holds the remote in his hand, uninterestedly flipping through the channels. His stool has 3 even legs. Rei’s jealous. He finally pauses on the news.

A female news anchor, who looks a little like Rei’s ex-girlfriend, is going on about a political scandal. Why come to a bar if you wanna watch the news? Rei is just about to voice that question when the news anchor switches to a new story and says a name that causes rage to rise in them. “It is believed that the Tokyo Manji Gang is responsible for the deaths of two civilians, Hinata Tachibana, and Naoto Tachibana,” she says the names of the dead with false sympathy. “If you have any information about the incident,” Her eyes lock with Rei’s through the TV, “Please contact the police

Nothing will be done for them. It’s an open secret that the Tokyo Manji Gang runs Shibuya, many of the clubs here are used to clean their money. There will be no evidence, or they will say there is none, and then it will be over. 

They don’t say his name, but it doesn’t matter. Their night has taken a turn for the worse.

The Tokyo Manji Gang. Toman. Manjiro Sano. Rei orders an entire bottle of sake.

Rei had long ago finished the bottle, and had five more beers with it. The bartender is telling them they are done, they’re much too drunk to continue to serve, but Rei doesn’t hear him. They keep trying to ask for another bottle, another beer, or fuck, a shot. Just something! They’re fine, see. They can have more. They aren’t winning the argument. 

Now, the old man who owns the joint is coming out of the back, telling them they need to go. Jeez, why is everyone yelling at Rei? They didn’t do anything. But fine, they’ll be the bigger person and go. Rei gets up, nearly falling off the stool due to its stupid leg. Their blazer and bag are grabbed in one motion, something a drunk person couldn’t do. They don’t stumble out the door.

No one is in the alley. They can hear the not-so-distant sounds of debauchery, but can’t see the glow of the annoying bright billboards due to the surrounding buildings. It’s dark and Rei doesn’t feel like carrying the blazer on their arm, so they throw it on, dropping their bag while doing so. They search blindly for their phone, running their hands over their many pockets. It’s in their bag, and dead.

That’s not good, sure they have no need for a ride right now, but they will when they leave the alley. It’s fine, they can hail a cab instead of using a ride-share app. They aren’t walking the five blocks to the station.

The march down the alley is an ordeal, they grip the grimy walls for stability but still topple over every few steps. When they reach the end their hands are covered in…something and their slacks have dirt on them. The street is dead, as all the establishments on it are closed. No taxis to be found.

They can see faint light from the billboards now. Civilization isn’t far. If they go to a more populated area then they can get a taxi to the station, go home, and sleep for fourteen hours. Usually, some tourists are walking down the street looking at all the closed shops with interest, planning to come back the following day, but for some reason, no one is out here tonight. One night will be fine, is what they tell themselves as they walk down the deserted street.

The sound of their loafers is accompanied by distant shouting and music. Their intoxicated state makes the street lights appear to be moving, swaying side to side and away from them. The world is a blur of colors and sounds, and their vision swims. Everything is moving much too slowly for Rei. They’ve been walking forever and still no taxis. Will they ever get home? Wait, why are they going home? They stop to pull out their phone again. It’s still dead. 

Footsteps.

At first, they think maybe it’s the booze or thinking about Manjiro that’s making them paranoid, but they are getting closer now. The hair on the back of Rei’s neck rises, and without thinking they take off. Or try to, but it appears as if the alcohol is making it difficult to quickly put one foot in front of the other. They start falling, bracing themselves with their arms at the last moment. A crack is heard and pain shoots up their right arm, slightly dulled in their drunken haze. Thump.

Rei lays face down on the ground, contemplating taking a nap right here. The footsteps continue. they push off the ground with their left hand, rising to their knees. Where are their glasses? They need to use their phone to find their glasses, so they reach for their bag and now their arm hurts. Why does their arm hurt? Aw, their phone is dead. Where are their glasses? Footsteps.

Oh shit. Footsteps. Rei moves in a way that shouldn’t be possible for someone in their state, leaping into the air and readying once again to run. But it’s too late. No more footsteps.

A man stands before them. He is short and stringy, wearing a nice suit and shoes, much too expensive to be walking around here this late, a Rolex sits on his wrist. His hands are deep in his pants pockets. They can’t make out his face. Rei whips their head around, but no one else appears. 

Ok. One guy is fine. They’re tired, sure, and not completely sober, but one guy isn’t the end of the world. People aren’t too far away now, if they break past him they’ll be home free. Yeah, that’s a plan. 

They don’t get the chance. He takes his right hand out of his pocket. 

They’re back on the ground again. How did they get there? The man is standing over them with something in his hand. Where are their glasses? Their abdomen burns. They try to lift their right arm, then switch to the left, and their hand lightly grazes their stomach. His hand goes back into his pocket, his Rolex glints under the street lights. Their hand comes away slick with blood, and that must be what is slowly trickling out of the corner of their mouth. They spit it out, let some land on him dammit.

That must’ve pissed him off cuz now he’s crouching down, and Rei can finally kinda see his face. Do they know him? Light flashes and dark spots cloud their vision. This is Rei’s death? Getting shot by some rich prick for no fucking reason, other than he was murderous.What the fuck? 

He isn’t saying anything, just looking at their tired face, the dark rings under their eyes more prominent due to the blood loss. They look like a mess-even more than usual. Their hair once again matted to their forehead with sweat, clothes sticky with blood, and glasses somewhere in the middle of the street. And oh yeah, the broken arm and a gunshot wound, how could they forget. He’s still staring. Is he getting off on this? Probably, sick fuck. Coughing starts and blood is shooting from their mouth, some hitting him on the cheek. He doesn’t move. 

It took Keisuke ten minutes to bleed out. He could’ve lived if given proper medical attention, all anyone had to do was call an ambulance. No one had. 

They know no one is coming to rescue them, but out of the corner of their eye, a shadow moves, and for just a moment they feel safe. 

Then it’s all gone.

#baji keisuke #manjiro sano x oc #manjiro sano x reader #mikey x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokrev #mikey x oc #tokyo revengers x reader

[tatakaetime07]

✶｡˚ ੈ♡Old habits die hard Pt.2

Part 1

A/n-So sorry for the unannounced hiatus,I've finally gotten my shit together so now hopefully I'll be able to write more lmao

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠-Eddie Munson x Gn!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:You always knew about about your best friends not so secret hobby,in fact everyone did.However as the days go by and Eddie starts endangering his health more and more,will you be able to help?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬-:Cursing,suggestive themes,substance abuse,drug mentions and usage,addiction,angst

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭-1.2k

*Not edited

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You ran your shaking hand through your tangled knots as you stared through the car window,not even bothering to answer Dustin's questions on where you were going.You rapidly shook your knee as you could feel everything collapsing around you.

This situation...you had thought about it a few times,but you always tried to look on the bright side,to ease your conscious by just a bit.Your vision had become blurry as you remembered the phone call that had you so worked up in the first place.

✧ * ｡⋆｡ﾟ

"Kid?"The familiar old and husky voice of Eddie's uncle sounded into your ear as you leaned against your wall.

It was a bit of a surprise considering he never really called you,just you.The thought alone made you feel weird,suspicious even,like something happened.

"Mr.Munson?Somethin' wrong?"You asked in an unbothered voice,at least one that hid the shakiness from your heart.

"God kid..it's Eddie."You froze in your spot,hand still clutched onto the telephone.You could hear from the other side how he stifled his sobs.

"Eddie...?W-What happened?Is he alright!?"You almost shouted the last part as you heart felt as though it was going a million miles an hour.You had tried to bury down the last conversation you had with Eddie,but this was just...what had happened?In fact,now that you thought about you hadn't seen him at school in the last 2 days.You shook as a shiver went down your spine.

"They found him outside the library barely conscious,with multiple drugs in his system and a bunch of bruisings."Eddie's uncle said sadly into the phone,you were horrified,this was a different type of fear you felt.

"Is h-he..."You trailed off so quietly that it made you surprised when he answered.

"They think so but,look darlin' I really think my boy would want you here,I know he wanted to tell you some things."You bit you nail as you stared at your curtains.

"I'll be there as soon as I can."You stated,and hung the phone back up as you heard the line go silent.

You let out a shaky breath as you slid down your room wall,covering your mouth as you a loud cry emitted from you,no you couldn't be so selfish in that moment,you needed to stay strong for Eddie.You had too,but the more you thought that the larger tears streamed down your cheeks as your heart clenched.

"Fuck.."

✧ * ｡⋆｡ﾟ

"Erm..real charming place you guys got here."Eddie laughed nervously as he shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled,looking around the large warehouse with a gulp.

"You got the money, Munson?"A gruff voice came from the darkness as his gaze moved to a man twice his age with tattered clothles and taking a puff from his cigarette.This might've seemed like some suspicious drug deal,and while that would usually be the case,he was actually there to return the the last set of drugs he had bought from them.

He had a talk with his uncle,and it was a slap of reality he needed to hear.He needed to get his act together and continuously doing this to himself wasn't going to help at all,he knew he would need to work for the relationship with you to be the same again,but he was willing to do whatever as long as he could see you again everyday as a friend,his friend.

"Actually...I'm here to return what you gave me."He tossed the a bag of things he knew he never wanted to see again.The woman who caught them scoffed.

"What?Darlin' c'mon you know there isn't a deal like this anywhere else."She grinned as she spoke in her heavy New Jersey accent,he cringed as she approached him.

"Look,thanks and all but I just don't want it."He turned to leave but a large man shoved Eddie into his grasp.

Eddie shouted multiple profanities at them as the man he talked to first walked over to him,he gently caressed Eddie's cheek.

"Was it so hard to just take it?"He muttered and strolled away from him,the woman laughed maniacally as she shook his jaw with her hand,next thing he knew he blacked out.

✧ * ｡⋆｡ﾟ

You bit your lip as you finally arrived at the hospital,quickly rushing to the front doors and Dustin following suite,you noticed Garreth and Mike both getting out of Eddie's van but you needed to get to that room,as soon as you could you needed to know he would be okay.

You saw Mr.Munson sitting in a chair in the lobby and quickly rushed over to him.He noticed you and already knew what you wanted to ask.Garreth caught up to you two and motioned to Dustin that maybe it was best to give you a moment.

"On the second floor,room 105."His uncle said as he looked at floor,his eyes glassy.You slowly nodded at him as you turned your head to the direction of the room,blood gathering on your lip as you bit harder in nervousness.In all honestly you didn't want to see just how bad it had gotten,just how beat up he was.Because you knew you would leave and look for the assholes that did it to him.

But you ran,you ran as fast as you could not even slowing when multiple nurses told you to slow down.Your breathes became uneven as you panted before finally reaching room 105.The door was cracked open,you swallowed harshly and pushed the door open gently,your heart beating so quickly against your chest you were afraid it would jump out.

"Eds..?"You whispered into the room,your eyes searched around before landing on Eddie's cold form.Your eyes brimmed with tears as you rushed over.You slid your thumb over his busted lip,and moved some of his hair out of his face.

God,it was worse than you thought.Your hand went down but was caught with a firm grip,your head whipped around to be met with a barely awake Eddie.It took everything in you to not take him into a bone-crushing hug.

Eddie took your hand and rubbed his cheek against your palm.Your lip quivered as he longingly stared at you.

"You scared the shit outta me,Munson."Eddie took him thumb and wiped one of your stray tears,he himself sniffling a few times.

"I know..I k-know,everything I said to you that day,everything that happened during those weeks,I don't know how you stayed with my miserable ass the entire time."You both chuckled as held your hand a bit tighter and continued,"I hope everyone knows I'm sorry,I'm so god damn sorry."

He began crying quietly and you finally pulled him into your embrace.Although the things he said still stung,you could work on that together,this was your best friend.

The next few hours everyone came in and you all had a crying session together,Eddie vowing off those drugs,and although it would be a hard thing to do,he knew he could depend on you guys,his Hellfire Club.Dustin patted you on the back and smiled his gummy smile,it made you happy.

The nurses came in every once and a while to switch his bandaids.But most of time you guys just cuddled on the hospital bed as you watched She-Ra,laughing at how cheesy it was but enjoying the innocent moment that reminded you of how things were,things wouldn't be the same but they would definitely be more healthy.

The next month Eddie would keep his promise,he even intended to go to rehab when the summer started,he wanted to be better for you,for Dustin,Mike,Garreth,Jeff,Lucas,every fucking one he intended to make it up too,but to you was a different story,it was a different love,a love he only hoped you would return.

Taglist-@edsforehead

#eddie my love #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #st 4 #eddie munson fic #x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #st4 #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #stranger things eddie munson #stranger things season four #gender neutral reader #eddie munson st4

[nyruratchet]

The Edge of No Tomorrow

I’m struggling. I don’t get this world I’m in and feel like I’m living someone else’s story. People I love are passing away left and right; leaving me here feeling more alone day by day. I’m working at a company that doesn’t care about it employees. Shocker, a capitalistic US company that cares more about profit that the life of their workers. 

I honestly don’t want to be here anymore. Everytime I get home, I get comforted initially at being away from people and lessening my anxiety. But once the loneliness sets in, I’m on the verge of tears. Why can’t I find someone to love. Why does every guy I express interest in, run for the hills. Clingy? No. Shallow? No. Walled up. Sort of, but I have no trouble letting someone in. I just don’t get it. 

Then to top that lonely boy sundae off, I have…well HAD a “friend” throw me a way like trash. Like I wasn’t even worth his time. Actually, there is no ‘like’ involved. He literally said he’s not invested in a friendship with me and has no time for the fuckery. But when asked to explain or have a conversation about whatever brought him to this conclusion, N just dismissed me and said we can be “cordial” when we have to be in each other’s presence. I’m sorry, but when someone disrespects me, I’m not being cordial. I remove myself from the situation completely. And that’s where my mind keeps going. I need to remove myself from everything completely. I WANT to remove myself. I don’t really care about tomorrow anymore. In fact, the prospect of having to go through one more tomorrow feeling like this is nightmare; what on earth is there to look forward to? The struggle to make ends meet? The struggle to do music like I love? The struggle to find fulfillment in the mundane wretched existence I’m currently in? Doesn’t make sense. 

My dear friend who’s in prison can even find something the brighten to prospects of each of his days. But I can’t. I’ve been thrown away so many times and discarded, it is hard for me to imagine anyone missing me when I’m gone. And if there is someone, they wont miss me very long. My Grammy would. My mommy, daddy and court court will. But besides them, I’m not important to anyone. In fact, the only 2 reasons I’m even still alive is because it would break my Grammy’s heart and cuz I haven’t found the perfect way for me to do it yet. I need it painless and quick. In my sleep would be great.

Would you miss me? I don’t really know who I’m asking because I know no one will read this unless I post and share on social media like I’m pushing drugs. I don’t even know why I bother putting anything out there. I do music and a music video, a handful of friends support and buy them. Seriously, I could count the sales on one hand. Streaming? HAH, that’s all money as well. Gotta put money in to get anything out. I been trying for years to just get a foot in the door. I use to make CDs and cassette tapes to send to A&R at record labels. "That’s not the way it’s done anymore.” I would hear them say. Or, “development deals aren’t a thing anymore.” Well FUCK ME then.

That brings me to the other issue: fucking. Sex is my drug. Not proud of it but also, there could be worse addictions. I mean, there could be better ones too. This one requires me to be dependent on the acceptance of someone else; the desire of someone else; the mind of someone else. So if I can find someone to fuck or fuck me, great. But come on, there’s no consistency there. So, many times I find myself in a dry spell, needing my drug with no fix in sight. No how pathetic is it for an addict to not even be able to FIND his drug of choice. I’m not saying pay for it, FIND it. Cuz this drug is free, for those who can find/get it. But as I have already stated, guys don’t like me. And if they do, they have a hurtful way of expressing that attraction/affection. It has gotten to the point where I can’t even look at a cute guy without wanting to cry. Because when he looks at me me, I know he doesn’t see a desirable being. And when I do find someone who has feelings for me, they are taken already. So, can those feelings even be trusted? Nope. They already told someone else the same things they’re telling me. I’m just some new catch. Someone to make them feel like they still got “IT” (whatever ‘it’ is”). Recently, there was a guy I connected with on Grindr. He was so interested in me, and he was beautiful. I just KNEW he was fake. But he gave me his number. Then came the cat and mouse chase. He was never available. Then a couple weeks went buy and he was “in a relationship”. Yeah, he had no time for ME. I was brokenhearted. So again, I figured, he was just faking and wanted attention. Well, a year went by. I walk to up to work, and there he is. I knew exactly when I saw his face. Long story short, he told me he was still in a relationship but had no issue fooling around with me in a bathroom before dropping me off to my hotel like a cheap peace of ass. Then after saying all the right things, I get a text the next day. ‘Yeah, we can’t hang like I said. I feel bad for what I did. Sorry for leading you on…’ blah blah blah. Fell for it. And the sad part is, I’d do it again. No guys who look like that, are successful like that, or say things like that have ever thought I was in their league. So, to know he was a real person and he actually was interested in me a year ago; but GOD hated me so much he sent him another boy right before I could meet him, broke my heart and spirit even more. He could have been the love of my life. And just like that, fate said I wasn’t allowed it. I wasn’t worthy of it and apparently am still not.

I just keep trying to make SENSE of my existence and I can't do it. Could I continue going on this lonely path for years holding on to the notion that my time is coming? NO. I won't make it. I have wanted to be in love since I was little. I have wanted a singing career since I was little. Who's life am I living? I DID THE WORK. Went to college; went on auditions; did the residency training; moved to New York; worked multiple jobs to keep a roof over my head...I just, don't know what I did wrong. At least, not one major thing I did. I have tons of regrets in hindsight, but who hasn't made mistakes right?

I should just end it here. But I type all of this to say that I see not future for me. I'm standing at the edge of no tomorrow.

#feelings #mental health

[newmusickarl]

Being Funny In A Foreign Language by The 1975

There is probably no bigger Marmite band around than The 1975. Ask someone their opinion of the Manchester indie-pop darlings and the response will likely either be scary levels of adoration or rage-inducing blind hatred. Now whilst I don’t obsess over them like a good portion of their now enormous fanbase, I would be lying if I said I don’t fall firmly onto the “love” side of the band’s ever-present divide. Having followed The 1975 since their early EPs, it’s been quite incredible to see them steadily become one of the biggest acts in the world. The catalogue they’ve forged in that time has been nothing short of sensational, with at least one modern classic in the form of A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships.

However, when it comes to the criticisms and general loathing of the band – I do also get it. Firstly, frontman Matty Healy’s instinct is to be an irritating provocateur, with one skim through his recently recovered Twitter evidence to this fact. He is always going to rub people up the wrong way and relish in it, which fairly turns people off him and his output. Also, despite working their way up through the live gig and festival circuit, they are very much still a pop band. As a result, I think their ongoing success does them no favours with the indie diehards who see them as imposters in a scene dominated by traditional rock and roll outfits.

Then just when you thought The 1975 couldn’t be anymore controversial, in 2020 they released an album that divided even their own fanbase – their hugely misunderstood fourth album, Notes On A Conditional Form (NOACF).

Plagued by delays, NOACF was a 22-track odyssey that dove headfirst into everything weird and wonderful, ultimately proving too much for some listeners and diehard fans. Upon its release, I saw fair criticisms that the record was too long, too self-indulgent, too erratic, non-cohesive and generally a bit of a mess. However, I personally loved all the album’s imperfections and always saw these as part of the band’s intention for that particular record.

It has long been said that the traditional album format is dying, with people today preferring to create their own playlists on streaming sites made up of their favourite tracks. What I believe The 1975 aimed to construct with NOACF was in fact a deconstruction of that traditional album format. This was their playlist-like record that would often jarringly jump between musical genres that would normally have no place on the same album, let alone coming from the same band. From punk rock to ambient pop to UK garage to 90’s house to country to R&B to gospel to alternative indie to electronica - to pretty much everything else in between, it was all showcased on NOACF. So despite some of their best work coming out of that project, I think ultimately the deliberate abstract nature of the formatting flew over a lot of heads.

So, now back with their fifth album Being Funny In A Foreign Language, The 1975 are seemingly out to appease the public. Not just the fanbase that was turned off by their last record, but also maybe win over some of their harshest critics that have never enjoyed or given time to their music. Aiming to please, the result is an album that may not be as daring or even (for me anyway) as interesting as its predecessor – but is more joyous and, in moments, utterly timeless.

Matty Healy has previously been on record to state that All My Friends by LCD Soundsystem is his favourite song of all time, so it makes sense that he interpolates this song in the album’s eponymous opener to help appeal to the masses straight out the gate. Lyrically it’s a hard-hitting start too, with Healy exchanging the care-free heart of LCD Soundsystem’s track for one that’s dejected and apologetic about modern teenage life. However before things can get too heavy, funktastic single Happiness arrives to bring along exactly what it says on the tin. Still one of their finest tracks to date, it’s impossible not to get swept away by the vintage 80s style guitar groove, wonderfully polished production and instantly catchy chorus of “Show me your love.”

The strong 80s influence then continues on songs like Looking For Somebody (To Love) where the band channel their inner Huey Lewis & The News, whilst Oh Caroline has more than a few nods to Peter Gabriel. Personally whilst these songs will no doubt please hardcore fans, they don’t do as much for me as I already know The 1975 have mastered this sound, inside and out. Therefore, I can’t help but think in these moments that it all feels a bit safe.

That said, when the band do eventually deviate from their typical sound, that’s where the album really shines for me. Part of the Band is an artsy, string-tinged and quietly understated track, with some impressive lyrical gymnastics like the tongue-twisting line: “I know some Vaccinista tote bag chic baristas, sitting in east on their communista keisters.” Recent single All I Need To Hear also remains a firm favourite, a stripped-back and classic-sounding love song that is carried by Matty Healy’s poetic songwriting and the raw, live production. Reflective, bluesy piano ballad Human Too then dazzles in a similar manner, before Robbers-sequel About You serves up the album’s biggest emotional gut-punch. When We Are Together is then a delightfully folky and beautifully orchestrated climax, bringing the album to a close at a concise 43 minutes in length (a whole 50 minutes shorter than its predecessor) and with a full circle call back to the LCD Soundsystem interpolations right at the end.

Supposedly the working title for Being Funny In A Foreign Language was The 1975 At Their Very Best, further solidifying the notion that this is a make-good record for the mixed reception to previous effort NOACF. Whilst personally I still prefer their more experimental and eclectic side, there is also no denying that the cohesiveness has been refined, with several of the songs here also some of their richest and most expertly crafted to date. Most importantly though, it’s another excellent addition to their discography, further solidifying them as - for me at least - one of the most fascinating acts of the last 10 years. Is this indeed them At Their Very Best? That’s for you to decide.

Listen here

#the 1975 #happiness #being funny in a foreign language #matty healy #album review #new music #best new music #best of 2022

[keikakudori]

How is it to be in a serious relationship with Aizen? Does he plan and overthink everything??lol

random asks | always accepting

being in a serious relationship with aizen is -- a commitment. first, let me preface this by saying that it is going to be something which takes time and work alike. aizen is not a man who will ever be emotionally open or vulnerable very easily; the list of people he cares about to a significant degree is not very long. and, as such, it does color and influence his behavior and his perception of things. add in the fact that he lost his mother during his formative years and his one solid relationship (prior to his being involved with gin in the f!verse) was very much unhealthy and it's much more amazing that he is capable of having a relationship at all. but if you are in a relationship with aizen, then as i stated with a previous anon, you will find yourself the center of his attention. aizen is a man who is not shy about being dedicated to his partner. he goes out of his way to show appreciation and affection. yes, aizen is capable of being very affectionate. he enjoys it, actually -- he's not without emotion, after all. it's why it's very interesting. his partner will be the center of his focus; aizen is quite capable of being intense with that focus because of the strength of his personality and power and it isn't out of the question to find it intimidating. it's not that his partner becomes the sole center of his world and that everything else falls away. it just becomes, merely, that the other party is given the whole of his attention though not to the exclusion of everything else. he is devoted and that is probably one of his best qualities; if aizen is involved with someone, then that's it. they're the one he wants and that is a conscious choice on his behalf. even when he was at his wit's end with shinji, aizen still didn't try to move on. but if you manage to fall into a relationship with him, if you manage to make aizen commit his time and effort towards you, then it's probably going to be a very pleasant experience. he wants his partner to be aware that they're his focus. in some ways, that is colored by his time with shinji. compared to the benign ( or sometimes active ) neglect of the older man, aizen wants it to be clear that he isn't like that. yes, there is that whole emotional intimacy factor but if you've managed to secure a relationship with him, then you've already managed to clear a fairly large hurdle. part of the issue is that aizen finds most people dreadfully transparent. he knows, more or less, that many of his fanclub were admiring him just for his looks and not for who he was ( not entirely for who he is ) or they wanted to get involved with him for bragging rights. maybe some of them actually did want to be with him for him, but determining which people were like that can be difficult. so aizen just chose to remain a confirmed bachelor and he's not one to advertise his relationship either.

the chances that anyone who got involved with him not being able to keep their mouth shut was very much something that he considered and took into account in many aspects of his life. with that being said, however? aizen wants to give his attention to his partner. he wants to spend time with them. he wants them near. he will do his utmost to leave his partner satisfied because that is who he is and because, in a very real sense, he doesn't want to be alone. he's not clingy. he's not desperate. he doesn't expect the other party to be constantly glued to his hip and is perfectly fine and willing to accept that they both will need space at times. he doesn't expect there to be a constant stream of affection or affirmation either. but he will show that he's dedicated and he will show that he is committed and that is always how it will be. for a man who's willing to fuck up all of soul society, you could actually and very easily name aizen a romantic. he wants to be involved with someone? then that's it in full. as for planning and overthinking? far from it, really. aizen's surprisingly willing to go with the flow and while there are some days when he will make it clear there is some specific thing he wants to do or some kind of outcome he's pursuing, he actually will typically follow his partner's lead. in many ways, this is purposeful to simply take in what the other party wants, what they're after, to see what they choose to do -- and yet, it's equally his way of merely going along with the circumstances. if aizen does plan something out, then typically it's more in the nature of a seduction rather than trying to categorize everything in the relationship into a set of time slots and written out planning. why would he ever want to do that? aizen's nature, by canon itself, is very fluid and adaptive; he plans for one thing, but if circumstances change, then he can just as easily shift directions. so -- yes. it's a hell of a thing.

#anonymous #meta tag; #i finally got this one answered whoop---