#🍂Angst

[stupidr3dpanda]

ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ ɪ ᴀsᴋ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ, ғᴏʀ ᴍʏ ʙʟᴏɢ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴs ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴀɴ ᴀɢᴇ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙɪᴏ! ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇ ʜᴇʟᴅ ʀᴇsᴘᴏɴsɪʙʟᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏɴsᴜᴍᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀɴᴇᴛ!

So many men in this world and my dumb ass decided to fall for the fictional ones...

Some rules before we get started!

Here I have set some rules and boundaries for my little corner. Failure to follow them will result in a block from me.

I expect an age in your bio! NO AGELESS BLOGS!! If you are a minor I ask for you to please refrain from interacting with this blog! It contains mature content and I don't want you sniffing around content not meant for you or be blamed for your inability to follow a simple order!!

My blog DOES NOT welcome RACISTS, HOMOPHOBIC, TRANSPHOBIC OR ANYONE WHO DECIDED TO WOKE UP AND BE A COMPLETE ASSHOLE!!

I'm not comfortable with discussing or writing topics containing; Necrophilia, please no, get away!

Now that that's out of the way let me introduce myself!!

Hi! Hello! You can call me Ottie!

I'm your favorite bear and fictional man [mostly CoD MW] enthusiast!

Don't believe me? Hah! Well here's some little facts for ya!

Did you know that there are a total of eight species of bears? Yup! There's the brown bears, black, polar, moon, sun, sloth, spectacled, and pandas!

Unfortunately as much as I would love for it to be true red pandas are not related to the bear family Ursidae, they are related to the taxonomic family, Ailuridae!

Talking about pandas did you know that they have an extra bone to help them eat bamboo?? Uh huh it's known as "sesamoid" it's a bit like a thumb, it helps them maneuver bamboo stalks. It's not a true thumb tho, they can't use it to grasp things, but the evolutionary adaptation gives them more stability when eating bamboo!

Did you also know that polar bears are considered marine mammals?? That's because they depend on the ocean to find their food and a place to live! That's why they fall under the Marine Mammal Protection Act!

If that doesn't prove that I am a certified bear enthusiast I don't know what will. >:[

This is my little corner okay? I come here to dump anything that pops on my mind at that moment, so don't expect it to be very organized!

Please be mindful that English is not my first language and I may make grammar mistakes while communicating

My ask box is always open for anything! Please feel free to talk with me!! Wanna chat? I wanna chat too! Wanna info dump? I'm here for it!! Just passing by to say hi? Go ahead! Wanna recommend me something or share something? I'm all ears!!

And now. To help you navigate this unorganized corner you can use my tags! Here!

For reblogs you can use these tags!

For my fluffy reblogs you can use; #🍀Fluffyreblog

For my spicy aka smutty reblogs you can use; #🌶️Spicyreblog

For my angst reblogs you can use; #☄️Angstreblog

For my fanart reblogs you can use; #🖌️Fanartreblog

For any other reblog just use; #🐻Ottiereblogs

For my own writing you can use these tags!

For my own fluffy writing you can use; #☁️ Fluffy

For my own spicy aka smutty writing you can use; #🔥smut

For my own angst writing you can use; #🍂 Angst

And if you just wanna hear me talk nonsense you can use; #🐻Ottiesays

If you want my answer to a question just use; #🐻Ottieanswers

And in general just to find me use #🐻Ottie

I hope we get to be good friends! Enjoy your life as much as you can! And try to stay safe okay? Bye! 👋🐻✨

[clairesrose]

Under the Mistletoe

The faint scent of pine filled the living room as you adjusted the lights on the Christmas tree. The air was festive, warm, and filled with the faint hum of Christmas music playing from a nearby speaker. Matt Sturniolo sat on the couch, cross-legged, unwrapping ornaments with a goofy smile on his face. His messy hair and oversized sweater made him look effortlessly cute.

“Hey,” he called, holding up a glittery ornament shaped like a snowman. “Do you think this guy should go at the top or bottom of the tree?”

You turned to him, hands on your hips, pretending to think seriously. “Hmm… definitely the bottom. He’s got bottom-tier energy.”

Matt let out a dramatic gasp. “Bottom-tier energy? Excuse me, but this snowman deserves to be front and center for his sparkly attitude alone.”

Laughing, you tossed a handful of tinsel at him. He dodged it, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward in a grin. “Okay, fine. Put him wherever you want. But if he ruins the vibe, you’re to blame.”

He shook his head with mock disappointment before carefully placing the ornament mid-tree. "Compromise," he said, turning to you with a wink.

The two of you continued decorating, slipping into a rhythm. Matt’s jokes kept you laughing as you untangled strings of lights and hung shiny baubles. Eventually, the tree glimmered in all its glory, the star perched perfectly on top.

“Not bad,” Matt said, stepping back to admire your handiwork. His arm brushed against yours, and your cheeks warmed, though you blamed it on the nearby fireplace.

“Not bad?” you echoed, nudging him playfully. “It’s perfect. We did great.”

He chuckled, looking down at you. “Yeah, I guess we make a good team.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile forming on your lips. The moment stretched on, the room quiet except for the crackle of the fire and the soft melody of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas playing in the background.

“Wait,” Matt suddenly said, his voice tinged with excitement. He pointed above your heads, and your eyes followed his gaze.

There it was—a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the doorway. You frowned, squinting at it. “When did that get there?”

Matt’s smile turned mischievous. “Chris hung it earlier. Guess he had big plans for me.”

You laughed nervously, feeling your pulse quicken. “Well, rules are rules, I guess.”

“Yeah,” he said softly, his playful expression softening into something more sincere. He stepped closer, his face inches from yours. “Wouldn’t want to break tradition, right?”

Your heart raced as Matt leaned in, his hand gently brushing your cheek. His lips met yours in a sweet, tentative kiss that felt like snowflakes landing on your skin—soft, delicate, and perfect. The world seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you in the warm glow of the Christmas lights.

When he pulled back, his cheeks were as red as yours. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You smiled up at him, your heart full. “Merry Christmas, Matt.”

And for the rest of the evening, the mistletoe wasn’t the only thing sparkling in the room.

Tagssss: @phone4pills @madifilipowiczslvt @sweetreliever @daysonend @sophand4n4 @conspiracy-ash

[orimuraa]

₊˚⊹⋆🍁⋆⊹ Day 4: Sweater weather - Lee Heeseung

(synopsis) 🍂 heeseung is always there to save you from your coldest moments ₊⊹

lee heeseung x fem!reader 🍂 mention of past breakup (not with heeseung), toxic ex, petnames, a kiss at the end 🍂 angst with a splatter of fluff 🍂 friends to lovers 🍂 wc 804

masterlist

it was autumn now, meaning it has officially been a year since your breakup with your toxic ex. you used to love autumn and the way the leaves turned colors but that all changed because of your ex. he broke your heart last autumn when he told you he was just getting with you cause you were a pretty face. your best friend since elementary school, lee heeseung, was absolutely fuming about the whole situation and actually went to go teach your ex a lesson. let’s just say heeseung came back that evening with bruised knuckles and a couple bruises on his face. you didn’t want to question it.

but as the months went on, you started to realize that you would possibly never love again. your trust had been completely destroyed and the thought of even attempting to date another person scared you so bad.

heeseung was always there next to you, making sure that you wouldn’t get hurt anymore. but what you didn’t know was that heeseung had actually been harboring some feelings for you, but he was too afraid to ever confess now that your heart was shattered. but he so desperately wanted to be the person to pick up the delicate little pieces and gently put your heart back together.

“seungie? are you here?” you called out weakly. you just woke up from another nightmare about your ex finding you and tormenting you again, waking up in a cold sweat and your breathing labored. immediately, tears pricked your eyes and you in an defensive instinct, you curled yourself into a ball and cried.

so naturally, you let your feet carry you to your safe place. or—safe person.

“i’m here angel, what’s wrong? did something happen?” heeseung anxiously answered, getting up from his bed and speeding over to you. the two of you shared an apartment since the two of you were like two peas in a pod.

“i-i, i had another nightmare,” you whispered— scared that if you spoke any louder, nothing would come out. “a-about him.” you added.

heeseung’s eyes softened when he looked at you, knowing how shaken up you can get from these nightmares. he opened his arms comfortingly, letting you slowly crumble into his arms.

₊˚⊹⋆🍁⋆⊹

the cold, crisp, autumn air shivered your skin as you and heeseung walked down the streets.

“hey angel? i need to tell you something,” heeseung suddenly stopped walking and turned towards you. you looked up at him, confusion written all over your face.

he led you to a hill of grass in the park, coated with the fallen leaves of the trees.

“i-i, i’ve been waiting for so long to tell you this and i didn’t know the correct timing with everything that has happened in the last year and-” you quickly cut him off, noticing how he was rambling again. he only ever rambled when he was super nervous.

“hee. it’s okay, just tell me, you’re worrying me,” you begged, starting to get truly concerned for your best friend.

“alright. i’ll just say it. i like you.” heeseung blurted. your eyes widened as soon as the words came out of his mouth and for a moment, heeseung swore that this was the end for him. you didn’t like him back and now you would start hating him for confessing to you.

but instead, you smiled at him. a genuine smile. it was really nice to see you smile a real and sweet smile.

“seungie, i like you too…i was just so scared of what happened last time and i know that you would never be like him but i was just…so scared..” you confessed, not being able to look him in the eyes.

“hey hey hey! it’s okay, i promise, i can love you the way you deserve,” he smiled, tilting your chin up with his soft touch. “i’ll treat you so much better angel.”

it was his soft whispers against your lips that made you realize how close he actually was to you.

leaning in softly, you meet heeseung’s lips at the middle. his soft lips meeting yours, the kiss full of soft love and a promise. a promise from heeseung to you, letting you know how much he treasured you.

he was the one who picked up your broken pieces of your heart and mend it back together. you fully trusted him with your life.

when the two of you pulled away breathless, heeseung stared at you lovingly, just basking in this wonderful feeling.

you shivered slightly from the breeze and heeseung was quick to wrap his sweater around you.

you thought that you would hate the cold since it reminded you of the feeling of coldness and emptiness that you ex had left you, but this time, heeseung was there to warm you up.

he had made you love autumn again.

eep! i'm sorry cuz idk how good this is...i tried tho...this was originally gonna be hee and oversized sweaters, but it turned into this- but lmk if i should make a work abt oversized sweaters? likes and reblogs are always appreciated <33

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany

[lamemaster]

A Stifling Vanity

Request: Amras in a ritual gone wrong. Doodle-pops got me into him with the underrated character event

Pairing: Amras x Human Reader

Genre: Time travel au

Summary: Sitting on the arm of your sofa, he takes your hand. “No, I am indeed your husband. We’ve been married for 43 years, my love,” he whispers, gently brushing the hair from your face.

AN: I get you anon, Mina has the tendency to make me obsess over previously unimportant elves (looking at you Rog). Inspired by Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi. I hope you enjoy this~

Next up- Sinister love with Maedhros. Fall trope event list

Half a vial of the silver lakes of Lorien, two feathers of the Syian beasts of Orome, extract of the kroh blooms from Kementari’s gardens, and a personal possession of the desired person—all placed in the elaborate circle of creation sketched from the soot of the ever-burning fires of the Hall of Mandos. That was what the book had mentioned.

Amras had read it a hundred times, copied it into his journal twenty times. His room now contained an absurd amount of Syian feathers, enough to alarm any Maia of Orome.

He had planned every step, with meticulous care. Yet, it had failed.

Time travel, as the text warned, was difficult. Now, standing in front of your confused face, his heart ached, questioning if it ever truly mattered.

“Who are you, sir?” you ask politely, closing your book and offering him a pleasant smile. The room was warm, snug. You looked so comfortable in that chair, settled against the familiar faded red sofa, your eyes heavy with sleep.

As if stepping into an undisturbed past, Amras gently helps you adjust your posture, ensuring your back won’t strain during the night. “I am your husband. Amras.” He repeats, as he had in the last few years of your life.

He watches the familiar conflict in your frown. “My husband...?” you murmur, doubt clear in your voice. “You must be mistaken,” you insist, as always.

Sitting on the arm of your sofa, he takes your hand. “No, I am indeed your husband. We’ve been married for 43 years, my love,” he whispers, gently brushing the hair from your face.

It had been longer in his time—2,376 years in his present. An eternity.

He lifts your hand before your eyes, the wedding band gleaming on your finger. “See? These are our rings, my love.” He watches the emotions flood your gaze—astonishment, joy, sorrow, guilt.

But he doesn’t show you the ring he wears on a chain around his neck. The ring that was once yours. In this past, you still wore it.

You look at him, clutching his hand, your palm so warm. The Edain were always warm, as if the flame imperishable escaped through every pore of their bodies. “I forgot...” you whisper, voice faint. “Forgive me, please. I forgot.” You close your eyes, struck by the awareness of your failing mind.

He knows that look—the creeping dread as you realize what’s slipping away.

“It’s alright. I’m here to remind you, my love.” Amras kisses your forehead. “I’ll always remind you.”

He remembers this day of his life. The day he returned from a week in Himring. The day you forgot you had a son. Your memory, once so sharp, began to wither.

Your terrified scream had driven Vórimo away. Your mind, too far gone to recognize your own child, couldn’t grasp his tears. You were too far removed to comfort him. The weight of your years had left you incapable of being the mother he knew.

Vórimo left. And you were left with Amras. Along with the devastation of your returning fragments of memory. In some sense, Amras had lost you that day, when Vórimo walked out the door.

Never again did he see you contend at the dinner table. Your questions about the man in family portraits became painful. At times, your forgetfulness was kinder than your moments of clarity.

Vórimo didn’t return until you were long gone. By then, all that remained of you were the books you once cherished. He came to a home that no longer existed.

Amras could have hated him. Could have despised the son who left you to die grieving. But how could he, when he had done the same to his own mother? Abandoning her to a fate she didn’t deserve, a doom he had brought upon himself.

He understood Vórimo’s heart too well.

That was why he’d done all of this. The desperate hope of reuniting you with your son, just one last time. To bring the past to Valinor for that final meeting. The Fates had allowed him to see his mother again. Why not his son?

But they hadn’t.

Instead of bringing the past forward, the Fates had pulled him backward. They doused him in the warmth of your presence, in a time when your heart was still whole. How easy it would be to forget his purpose, to remain here with you in this gentle moment.

To slip into bed and hold you once again.

Despite all your early fears, the signs of your aging never hindered the love you shared. Amras had braced himself for sorrow at the sight of your aging, but it never came. His heart clung to love.

It still raced at the sight of your smile, etched with wrinkles, just as it had in the untouched days of youth. Hearts, it seems, will love what they wish to love.

Picking up the book you had closed, his fingers skim the edges of the pages until they land on the bulging section. Opening the page, he slides out a folded sheet of parchment. At last, he had found it—the forgotten relic of your past.

The letter you had claimed to write but never managed to find. You died searching for it. For centuries, Amras had wondered about it.

“May I?” he asks, holding it gently before you.

Surprised at your own letter, you nod, resting your head on his shoulder. Your eyes too frail to read your own fine hand. How long had it been since you wrote this?

The firm curve of the letters hinted at a much earlier date, back when your fingers didn’t tremble as they did now.

Unfolding the parchment, he reads aloud:

Darling son of mine,

Forgive your mother. Forgive her fading brain.

This disease that the healers found frightens me. It frightens me more than I can say. I fear what’s to come, and how I may not even be aware of its beginnings.

Unlike the days of your childhood, I may not be able to hold you and whisper gentle words in your hour of need. I apologize for giving you this grief.

When I lose myself, you are not bound to my shadow. Let not my ignorance pain you, nor your father.

From all the memories of this life, I wish to remain your mother and his wife. Let me not become a burden. In my selfishness, I seek to be loved as I was.

This is your mother’s vain wish.

The letter continues, pages of painstakingly preserved memories, like precious treasure hoarded onto brittle yellowing pages.

Amras glances at the heavy tome in his lap, the one you loved so dearly. The book your mind kept returning to. An illustrated volume, crafted by Kano for Vórimo’s begetting day. A book you both had read to him.

He smiles bitterly at its fading covers. Elven craftsmanship tested by the humid air of your land.

You returned to this book till the end. As if searching for a chapter lost.

How had everything conspired to erase this? How had time buried such a simple plea? Was it too harsh of a fate?

For you to lose it. For Vórimo to never receive it. For Amras to find it now, in a past already long gone.

He cannot take it back. Time would not allow him that. The Fates would not let the future be rewritten. He had bargained enough.

It is lost. Buried somewhere deep in the lands of Middle-earth.

Amras holds the letter, his hands trembling slightly. He reads the words again, each one carrying the weight of your love, your fears, and your hope.

The past cannot be altered, and the future—his future without you—remains fixed. He could never bring your son to you again. He could not stop the decay that had taken your mind, nor the eventual passing of time.

But this moment—this night—was still his.

He looks down at you, your breathing soft and steady as you sleep against his shoulder. You look so peaceful, the furrows in your brow smoothed by the comfort of sleep.

For now, you remember him, and that’s enough. The past may have given him one last gift, though fleeting. Tomorrow, you might not know him at all.

He carefully folds the letter and places it back in the book, resting it gently beside you on the table.

When you wake again, there will be no recognition in your eyes. He knows this too well. You will look at him as a stranger, perhaps offer him the same polite smile. His heart will ache, but he is ready. He’s always been ready for this.

Amras presses a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment longer than usual, as if committing every detail to memory—the warmth of your skin, the sound of your breathing, the faint scent of your hair.

"I’ll remind you tomorrow, my love," he whispers, though he knows that soon there will be nothing left to remind.

Rising slowly, Amras leaves the room quietly, the weight of the centuries settling back on his shoulders.

He steps outside into the cool night air, letting the chill ground him once again in the moment between his past and present.

He stops for a moment, looking back through the window, where you still rest, untouched by the pain of memory. For now, you are at peace.

And for him, that is enough.

He walks into the night, the stars above cold and distant, yet somehow offering a strange comfort. The past cannot be changed, but it lives in these moments—the brief, fragile memories that remain. Amras smiles to himself, a soft, bittersweet smile.

As the spell fades his body, wrenching him into the present, he realizes that he has lost you yet again.

[youknowclaireright]

Chasing Shadows

Warning ⚠️: none just angst with no happy ending bc i hate it, use of y/n

The rain tapped lightly against the window, a constant reminder of the turmoil brewing inside your heart. You stood at the edge of Nicholas’s living room, staring blankly at the framed picture of you two on the mantel—a moment frozen in time, from a day when everything was perfect. But now, perfection felt like a distant memory, drowned by the weight of unsaid words and unhealed wounds.

Nicholas stood across from you, his face unreadable, but his eyes—those dark, intense eyes you’d fallen for—were filled with something raw. Guilt. Anger. Maybe regret. You weren’t sure, and the uncertainty made it worse.

"You can't keep doing this," you whispered, voice cracking under the pressure of your emotions. The silence that followed was suffocating. "You can’t keep pulling me close only to push me away when it gets too hard."

His jaw clenched, but he said nothing. The flicker of frustration in his eyes was familiar. It always happened like this—the back-and-forth, the whiplash of being wanted one moment and forgotten the next. It tore you apart.

“I told you, Y/N,” he finally spoke, his voice low and rough, “it’s complicated.”

Your heart ached at how often you’d heard that word. Complicated. As if it could justify all the broken promises, all the nights spent alone, wondering if you were enough, if you’d ever be enough for him to stay.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be,” you said, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. “Maybe if you just let yourself feel, let yourself trust...”

Nicholas shook his head, running a hand through his messy hair, pacing like he was searching for an answer that never seemed to come. “It’s not that simple. You don’t understand—”

“I don’t understand?” The words spilled out before you could stop them, your voice rising. “I’ve been here for you, Nicholas. Through everything. I’ve tried to be patient, to give you space, but I’m losing myself in the process. I don’t know what more you want from me.”

He froze, his back to you, shoulders tense. For a brief moment, you thought maybe he’d turn around, maybe he’d say the words you needed to hear. But he didn’t. Instead, he whispered, barely loud enough for you to catch, “I never wanted to hurt you.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “Well, you did.”

The room felt too quiet after that, the sound of rain growing louder in the background. You stared at his back, waiting for something—an apology, an explanation, a reason to stay. But when he finally turned to face you, his eyes were shadowed with the same distance that had been growing between you for months.

“I think…” You hated how shaky your voice was. “I think I need to leave.”

His breath caught, and for a split second, his mask cracked, revealing the pain he’d been hiding. But it wasn’t enough. Not this time.

You grabbed your coat, your hands trembling as you slipped it on. Every step toward the door felt heavier than the last, like your heart was breaking with each inch of space you put between the two of you. Nicholas stood motionless, his lips parted as if he wanted to stop you, but he didn’t.

“Y/N…” His voice, soft and full of regret, echoed as you reached for the door handle.

You paused, biting your lip to hold back the tears that were so close to spilling over. “I love you, Nicholas. But I can’t keep waiting for you to decide if you love me too.”

And with that, you stepped out into the rain, leaving behind the man who held your heart—hoping, praying, that maybe this time, the distance would hurt him just as much as it hurt you.

But deep down, you feared it wouldn’t.

[sstan-hoe]

𝒊𝒗. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝑨𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝑯𝒂𝒖𝒏𝒕 𝒀𝒐𝒖

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — mob!andy barber × fem!reader × mob!lloyd hansen

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — they wanted you, they enjoyed the hunt just as much as you enjoyed being chased. You didn't make it easy for them but it only prepared you that life with them wouldn't be easy.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — triggering warning for toxic/abusive relationships, talk/action on rape, talks about sexual activities, please be careful

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — I fought with himself, I actually wanted to go full smut with this chapter. Instead I will keep it for the finale next week. I concentrated on readers past, but tried to show not too much incase people got uncomfortable. Next chapter, our girl will be a bad bitch and do what she deserves to do! Reblogs and/or comments are appreciated!!!! Is the chapter too short?

𝑻𝑯𝑬𝒀 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑫 𝑴𝑬 𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹

The past, a time you either remember in joy, anger, or pain. Everyone thinks differently, acts differently, and processes it differently.

They say you learn from the past, but what if you’re running from it? Would you ever learn from that, or could you escape it forever? Probably not, but it doesn’t hurt to try…. At least for a little while.

“But sweetie…, I love you…, do you not love?” his voice calm, collected as he held your hand. “Of course, I do,”  you said eagerly.

“Then do it for me, you know I would never hurt you…, not on purpose at least! If you won’t listen then-,” “no! I will listen, I promise.”

“Do not interrupt me.”

---

To say you were addicted to Lloyd and Andy was an understatement, you were a monster for them. From the moment you woke up to the moment you fell asleep.

Always looking for their touch, seeking their closeness. It was remarkable how quickly you fell for them, maybe it was because you finally let your feelings come to the surface.

For too long you had suppressed your feelings for them, so now it was time to finally live those feelings out.

Waking up between Lloyd and Andy with Alf cuddled up under your blanket became fast, something you could get used to. Both men had you wrapped into your arms, it made you feel safe.

Alf was the first one to wake up, nudging his nose against your chin. Your hand came up to stroke over his fluffy head, “five minutes,” you whispered sleepily, nuzzling your head into him.

Lloyd woke up to the sound of your voice, his arm tightening around you. He was still tired as well, but before he could fall back into his slumber a nose nudged him as well. "Black's," he grumbled, which woke Andy up in response. Eyes blinking lazily to see Alf turning his head towards him and as soon as he saw Andy blinking, he jumped to his side.

Alf nudged Andy’s cheek, "good morning to you too," he said while scratching the dog's ear. Titling his head towards you and Lloyd, he was already asleep again while you rubbed the sleep from your eyes.

"Morning, darling'," Andy whispered and leaned over his partner to give you a kiss. Happily, you kissed him back, the kiss as soft as a pillow.

"Why do I not get a kiss?" Lloyd's voice broke through your moment, his voice teasing yet a bit snappy.

You rolled your eyes at him before leaning down and giving him a kiss, one that was meant to be sweet, but he turned it into a dirty tongue fight. Andy shook his head with a smile.

The need for air broke the kiss, you panted heavily. Lloyd had a proud smirk on his lips as he laid back, then turned to Andy with a cocked brow. The brunette rolled his eyes before leaning down to press his lips to Lloyd’s, who immediately shoved his tongue down Andy’s throat.

If your eyes could widen like they did in animation movies, they would be huge. How could a kiss between two people be this hot? It should be illegal.

You couldn’t even take your sight of them, too lost in their actions. Suddenly a large black, fluffy dog jumped at you and ripping you from your thoughts. You let out a shout in surprise, body falling down and into Lloyd, knocking him and Andy out of their kiss.

Alf licked his tongue diagonally over your face, “yeah, got it, thank you,” you said as you wiped his spit from your skin.

“I’m gonna make breakfast, come on Alf,” you announced. Climbing out of bed Alf followed you closely, Andy and Lloyd looked at each other for a moment before they followed you too.

“Oh, I thought I only had one dog,” you joked as all three of them walked behind you, Alf barked, “see, Alf agrees,” you added, grinning at them.

“We’re not dogs,” Lloyd argued, scoffing lightly to which Andy raised an eyebrow. In response he rolled his eyes, knowing his partner was right and with the way they acted around you it was sure that they were smitten.

It became some kind of routine that you would make breakfast while they took turns on taking Alf out for a walk. That also meant one day Andy would fuck you over the counter, the other Lloyd would eat you out and fuck your face.

Just as you put on Alf’s leash, Andy’s phone rang. The man scrunched his nose up in annoyance as he answered it, he looked at the caller ID before excusing himself.

Lloyd watched him, having an idea about the topic. To ease your confusion, he guided you to the kitchen with an assuring smile. “Don’t worry about it,” he told you, but that didn’t help one bit.

While Andy talked on the phone, Lloyd and you prepared breakfast. His sneaky touches were driving you insane, the mob boss tried to hide them from Alf. Why? He felt guilty exposing him to such inappropriate actions.

You only shook your head at that, it was ridiculous, but god was it cute. Add to that, Lloyd had taken a liking into talking with Alf about everything, really everything. He also taught him some tricks.

Andy walked in, phone pressed against him chest. His eyes met Lloyds and he motioned for him to follow. To be quite honest, you felt left out. It became obvious what the topic was, however, you didn’t say anything in hopes they would tell you.

Spoiler alert, they didn’t. The two came back, acting as if nothing happened and that bugged you. For the moment you let it go, until Lloyds phone rang, and he walked out of the room.

Rage seethed through your body, “no. No, you stay here and talk,” you demanded. You were the victim and had the right to know.

Lloyd looked at you with shock, taking the phone from his ear, “sunshine…,” “no, I’m being serious. I deserve to know, and don’t care if I’m in the wrong,” you argued as you stepped around the kitchen counter.

He looked at Andy who wasn’t certain himself, “darlin’ you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” he tried, but it didn’t help.

“I told you, I don’t care. Tell me, who was it?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. You glared at them, waiting impatiently, a small part wondering if you truly wanted to know…. No, you had to find out.

“Our men gave us a name, Charles Brooks. We have nothing on him yet or well had, the phone was about to give me details.”

Lloyd wouldn’t need details. Alone the name sends shivers down your spine.... You got quiet suddenly and it seemed even Alf remembered the name. Slowly you walked to the sink, lowering your head to splash it with cold water, you needed to make sure it wasn’t a dream.

Andy noticed your body language, “you know him,” he stated with a serious expression. “Yeah, no shit Sherlock” you scoffed, shaking your head.

You turned your back to the sink, looking at them. If he was back, then it would mean you would go through hell again. He had people stalking you, knew what you were doing.

“Sunshine?” Lloyd asked carefully, taking a step towards you. “He is my ex-boyfriend, it ended over a year ago. The relationship was toxic, he wanted to control everything and didn’t trust me. A few times he got close to hitting me, but never did and if it weren’t for Wanda and her husband, Vis, I wouldn’t be here today.” You explained, a tear rolling down your cheeks as your remembered the faithful night.

His loud screams of anger echoed through the walls of your flat, the sound of a vase being thrown on the ground making your blood freeze.

“Come out you little slut, you can’t hide from me,” his aggressive voice called out, footsteps coming closer and closer. You clasped your hands over your ears as you hid in the closet, praying he wouldn’t find you.

“Acting like a whore, flirting with every guy that gives you even the littlest of attention,” he chuckled.

You hadn’t done anything, the man asked you where the bathroom was and smiled as a thank you, nothing more. Still, he saw it as a threat to him and went mad.

The door of the closet was ripped open, revealing your boyfriend. His head red, teeth clenched, “come here,” he seethed and reached out to grab your hair. Charles grip was tight, tucking on your roots as he dragged you out.

“Don’t make me hurt you, you know I would never…unless you don’t behave and everything, I do is because of you, remember that,” he growled, acting as if it really was your fault, but it wasn’t.

Not that you knew that however, in this moment you would believe him anything. Do everything, just so that he would stop and not hurt you.

“No, please, please don’t hurt me,” you begged him in tears, but he only barked a laugh, “god, I love it when you beg.” Charles picked you up and threw you on the bed, “now you’re gonna learn how to behave….”

----

“Vis, I haven’t heard anything from her, she promised me to call. You know I don’t trust him,” Wanda picked anxiously at her nails as she paced around the room.

Vision stopped her, gently taking her hands, “then we will call Bucky and Thor, end it tonight,” he proposed and Wandas eyes lit up. A decision was made, she called them up and they made a plan within ten minutes.

Separately they drove to your flat, Bucky broke the door open with a grunt. Vision could hear your pained cries, “stay here,” he told his wife who nodded.

The three slowly walked into the hallway, nearing themselves to your bedroom. “Fucking like it you bitch? Well, too bad for ya,” they could hear Charles say, causing them to cringe internally.

“Stop, please, we can forget it, just stop…please,” you whimpered, laying there helplessly. Slowly Bucky walked up behind him and grabbed him, ripping him away from you and throwing him on the floor.

“Hey fucker,” he greeted Charles with a sweet smile. Bucky landed a punch in his face before Thor kicked him in the balls.

“Time to say goodbye,” Thor told him, hosting him up to land a punch in his guts. Meanwhile Vision tended to you, taking a blanket to wrap around your naked body, “Wanda is outside, it’s over. You’re save,” he assured you, the only thing you could possibly do was cry and hiding against Visions chest.

“God, darlin’, we’re so sorry,” Andy came over to you, hugging you close. His hand stroking over your head as tears streamed down your cheeks.

In that moment Lloyd decided that he would torture the guy to death, make relive his worst moment over and over again. He walked over to, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, “we will make him pay, he will never ever hurt you again.” It was a promise he intended to keep.

“Can we just go back to bed?” You whimpered, instantly they both nodded, and Andy scooped you up into his arms while Lloyd called for Alf.

The three of you laid down, Alf cuddling under the blanket with his head resting on your chest. It helped you even your breathing, still you couldn’t shake the feeling off that something was bound to happen.

Your phone was still in kitchen, which was probably the best as it made a notification sound.  A text message popped up, “missing me already sweetie?” an unknown number belonging to it.

You trusted them, that’s why you told them, and it was a weird feeling as you had never told this to anyone but Wanda, Vision, Bucky, and Thor. Not even your parents knew, after all Charles had cut everyone off. The only ones that didn’t leave and weren’t budging had been those four. Now you also had Lloyd and Andy to help you, and they would burn the world for you.

𝑻𝑯𝑬𝒀 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑫 𝑴𝑬 𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹 — @smile1318 @wintasssoldier @xcaptain-winterx @georgiapeach30513 @alina02 @jobean12-blog @buckymcu12 @shara-ne @lou-la-lou @meyocoko

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | I do have a taglist however it has conditions that must be followed — you can follow @sstanhoe-updates for updates without anything

[jaidens]

may I have a dark shaken espresso with Sodapop please?

Darling, I'd Wait For You —

pairing [s] : sodapop curtis x reader

warning [s] : mentions of : crying, breakups | this took so long, I couldn't think about anything to write abt i apologize!!

a/n [s] : requests are open! this is a part of my 350 followers celebration!

When your, trashy, ex-boyfriend decides to leave you for a one-hour hookup he was convinced would stay: it hurt you more than you imagined. Originally, your feelings were influenced with anger and hatred for seeing a random girl and your boyfriend thrusting into her. You ran, and ran until your legs were burning worse than the frosty air and tears that gathered in your eyes and down your cheeks.

Coincidentally, Sodapop had been driving home from work when he noticed a girl crying on the park benches. The snow that fell worried him, so he gathered his jacket and got out of his truck. “Hey! What are you doing out in this weather?” You ripped your head up at the voice, which you had recognized to be Soda’s, yelling at you. You felt completely broken and weak as Soda was in front of you.

“Y/N, hey, hey, what are you doing out here?” His voice is softer and slightly above a whisper, hoping to not scare you. He's only seen you like this so many times, and it scares him more than usual seeing the way you shake. His jacket wraps around you, and you can't help but jump into his arms. “C’mon. The truck is just over there.” He picks you up, hand going underneath your thighs as he brings you over to the truck.

You're numb as he places you inside the seat, and you buckle yourself in. The radio is playing Elvis quietly. Sodapop glances at you before beginning to drive on the road once more. The warm feeling of Sodapop radiates off as he hums and sings along to the gentle radio. Admittedly, throughout your relationship with your ex-boyfriend, there had been some stares and longing hugs you shared with Soda.

The truck stops at the Curtis house. The window blinds are shut, but lights are still turned on signifying not everyone had been asleep.

You walk to his bedroom, passing by a asleep Two-Bit and Dallas. You go into his bedroom and pull on his sweatshirt that was hanging on his door. It hangs loose, but it warms up your arms.

Moments later, Sodapop comes back with two cups of hot chocolate. You're in his thick Will Rodgers Highschool Football 1965 sweater, with a blanket pulled up to your legs. “Hey, tell me what happened if you're already.” Sodapop reassures and sets down the cups on Ponyboy’s small table that had books stacked up on each other.

“I caught him, Rich was— with another girl and said he was leaving me for her.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, the tears bud up and your lip starts to quiver. Sodapop immediately sits up and pulls you into his arms and you cry into his well-built shoulder. Through the walls you tried to put up, they immediately fell down.

His hand runs slowly, patting a little bit. It shows that he's there for you, letting you know that you'll be alright. You pull away and Sodapop’s hands go to your face and he makes you look up at him. “You didn't deserve him at all. He was such a dick— you didn't deserve any of that to happen.” The words are foreign to your ears, but Sodapop’s care isn't.

“You are so worth it, and absolutely loved. Rich had no idea how much you love.” You laugh before hugging him tightly. You always felt better with Sodapop as if he was a drug, but he radiated sunshine and happiness. “Thank you, god just thank you.”

You lay in his arms, and he scratches the back of your neck. You slowly relax and stretch out your bones as you begin to get undeniably tired. “Stay here tonight. I'll bring you home in the morning.”

[appocalipse]

are the prompt list requests still open? if so, i'd like to ask for color with eddie please (if they're closed, then please just ignore this!)

thank you so much!

- 🍂

hi i love u, sorry this took me so long </3 i'm sorry if i didn't do this prompt justice, but i've made it a part two to this drabble, hope it's okay 🥺 | rockstar!eddie

-

"You look like you're pissed off," says Eddie, taking the plate you hold out to him.

You are pissed off. Well, maybe pissed off isn't the right term; it's more of a strange mix between despair and delight, between absolute happiness and extreme misery, but yes, it's there. 

Your mother had invited Eddie over for dinner — of course, she had — and now that you've survived the meal (which was punctuated by lots of praise for Eddie and lots of genuinely interested questions about how he's been doing for the past two years) she'd decided to 'go for a night walk', code for 'I'm giving you and Eddie privacy so you can work out whatever this is'.

Sometimes you almost wish she wasn't such a nice mom.

Cleaning up seemed like a much better idea than just sitting alone with Eddie, so that's what you're doing now — washing the remaining dishes while he dries and puts them away. Eddie still remembers where most things are; even that hasn't changed. Nothing about you seems to have changed, you think. You're still in the exact same place, the same person you've always been, while he's found a brilliant path that doesn't include you.

Being happy for him is easy. Forgetting what he means to you…not so much.

"Y/N," he says, and this time he doesn't move to take the plate you're holding out to him until your gaze meets his. "I'm sorry."

Eddie doesn't usually apologize. In fact, he usually doesn't do anything he needs to apologize for, and when he does, he usually apologizes through actions more than words. He'd bring you your favorite food, make you a new mixtape, rent a movie he knew you'd like. It's strange to hear him apologize, especially after all this time apart.

"About what?" you ask.

"About leaving."

It's not fair, you think. It's not fair for him to be so nice. He should have gotten stuck up and insufferable when he got fame like any normal young rockstar does. It would make it easier for you to get over him.

"There's no need to apologize for that," you say mildly.

Water drips from the plate you're holding onto the floor. You try to grab the dishcloth to dry it yourself, but Eddie doesn't let go. Instead, he pulls at the fabric and you stumble closer to him as he clearly wanted to, too close for comfort. 

Eddie has never acknowledged the concept of personal space — it's just how he is, how he's always been. Being this close to him never failed to make your heart beat faster.

"Eddie," you chide, the same tone as when you were kids and he needed to be stopped from going to far. 

He lets you get the dishcloth and just watches as you dry and put the last plate back in its place, slightly brushing past him as you do so. Eddie looks like he wants to say something but can't work up the courage to let it out. Your back is turned, but you don't have to look at him to know he's looking at you too — the butterflies in your stomach tell you as much.

When you do turn around, you confirm you're right; Eddie is leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, staring quietly at you. Awkward silences are a common occurrence between you two now, it seems, so you say the first thing that comes to mind in order to avoid it.

"I thought you hated yellow," you say, eyeing the T-shirt under the leather jacket he's wearing. It's by no means a bright yellow tone, one of your favorite colors, but it's still yellow.

"Uh," Eddie looks down like he doesn't remember what he's wearing. "Yeah, well, I guess I like it now."

"You do?"

"It reminds me of you."

There it is — the silence. The awkward silence. Eddie is much better at creating it than you are at avoiding it.

Fortunately, something else picks his interest pretty quickly.

"Did you get a tattoo?" It's a rhetorical question. He's past the initial surprise. Eddie already saw that you did — he had a good view of the design on the back of your shoulder as you reached over to put the plate away. 

He walks over to examine it with curious eyes and a sweet smile, long before you can protest. In fact, before you even know what's happening, he's standing behind you, fingertips grazing your bare skin as he brushes your hair off your shoulder to get a better look at the tattoo — and if just being in the same room alone with Eddie is already kind of complicated, let alone being this close to him.

He still smells the same as always. His fingers are still calloused from relentlessly playing the guitar. It's a window to the past.

Damn halter dress. What a bad decision it was wearing it tonight. You should have pretended to be sick so you wouldn't have to come down to dinner. 

Eddie's fingers trace each line and shape of the tattoo on your skin as if he wants to memorize it. He's so close you can feel the heat of his body and you're tense, too tense for you to explain why without saying something silly.

"It's pretty," Eddie practically whispers, not taking his hand off your skin. "Suits you."

It's overwhelming, all of this. You only realize you're holding your breath when you're forced to breathe again, and then you force yourself to turn around to face Eddie.

"You went alone?" he asks quietly. The promise of another awkward silence is suffocating, so you say the first thing that comes to mind — it just so happens to be the truth.

"Steve went with me."

This seems to take him by surprise. Eddie even looks a little hurt; you know him well enough to read it in his expression even if it quickly disappears.

"Steve, huh?" he tries to sound normal, but he doesn't. He sounds almost…jealous. Is it possible? Judging by the way he's looking everywhere but you, it seems to be. "Are you two like, a thing now?"

Wait. Wait.

"'A thing?'"

"You know what I mean."

No, I don't, you're about to say, wanting him to spell it out for you so you could be sure he was, in fact, jealous; but then, something else occurs to you.

"We went on a date," it's not a lie. Technically. You're also not telling the entire truth though. How Steve was nice and sweet and funny and it still wasn't enough because he couldn't be who you really wanted, how the night came to a close sooner than it should have.

Eddie doesn't need the entire truth — his mind is running wild already. "A-and how was it?" he asks.

Are you imagining the desperation in his eyes, the need to know?

"It was…" Useless? Enlightening? A complete waste of time? "...nice."

"'Nice'? Just 'nice'?"

Oh, boy.

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know, I-" Eddie shrugs, but you can see the frustration he's so desperately trying to hide, subtleties that would go unnoticed by pretty much anyone but his best friend — former best friend, you remind yourself. "So you're together now?"

"No!" You don't want to tell him that, but you can't drag Steve deeper into this mess. It wouldn't be fair. "No, we're not. He's just-"

A friend?

"-boring?" Eddie offers. He doesn't really think so. In fact, he likes Steve, likes him a lot; he'd go as far as to say they are friends. But the devil on his shoulder has been yelling at him since you told Eddie about that stupid date.

The date itself might have been a bit boring since you could only ever see Steve as a friend, but you're not about to tell Eddie that — in fact, you seem to take it personally, he notices, blood rushing to your cheeks. 

"No!" you say firmly. "Steve was nice and funny and a gentleman, and he would never-"

Eddie kisses you. It just happens…just like that. One moment you're going on and on about how wonderful Steve is; the next, he's taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips on yours like he couldn't have done anything else.

You inhale in surprise as he presses on, the kiss growing desperate when he crowds you into the wall. Eddie is certain where you hesitate, your hands not quite knowing where to go as one of his slides down to wrap around your waist, fingers squeezing softly at your skin. His other hand gently holds your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek ever so slightly.

You're out of breath when he pulls away. Eddie rests his forehead against yours for a moment, lips almost touching, so close you're breathing the same air. 

For the first time, he doesn't have anything to say.

You look at him with a question in your eyes — a thousand questions, really, standing very still between his body and the wall. Why, how, what if; he doesn't answer any of them, looking back at you with the same kind of hesitation you're feeling. It's like setting foot in a foreign land.

Then, you hear the front door opening. It's like something clicks inside of your mind, prompting you to move.

"Shit!" you whisper, ducking under Eddie's arm just as your mom appears in the kitchen.

You look guilty, you know that. Maybe even slightly disheveled, to be honest. And Eddie is not helping your case standing there scratching the back of his head while your mother eyes you both suspiciously.

"Did I miss something?" she asks, trying for nonchalance but missing it by far. You can all but hear the excitement behind her words.

You have no idea, mom.

[arminsumi]

October Memories

Drabble / E. Jaeger

In rushed October; you were introduced to Eren's friend group, and memories were made between the two of you. By the end of the month, he got a big crush on you. So, he confesses to you by the lighthouse.

Cws; a smidge of angst (?), fluff, Eren looked at ur boobs this one time

Notes on Y/n; fem!bodied + fem!pronouns

Notes on this au; modern! + college! au

In October, you were introduced to Eren's friend group. As the month progressed, so did Eren's crush on you. All the October memories that he made with you only strengthened his feelings.

Memories of drinking bitter coffees in the kitchenette every morning, while complaining about his feelings for you to his mother.

Memories of you tugging on one of his favorite fuzzy sweaters after being caught in the rain, his eyes stealing a naughty glance at your chest.

Memories of laid-back parties in Jean's apartment that ended with you and Eren tumbling drunkenly down the street with a song howling out your lungs.

Memories of strumming an acoustic version of your favorite song on his cheap guitar while you sat next to him on his bed.

All these memories, they influenced him to confess to you by the lighthouse at the end of the month.

He fumbled with the hem of his sweater, the one you said was your favorite. His eyes wandered the environment looking for the right words.

But those right words never came.

The lighthouse stood tall nearby. He scratched the back of his neck, then ruffled his hair. The sea glistened under the golden hour's light.

"Maybe it is the apocalypse." Eren quietly joked.

"Huh?" You looked over at him.

He turned to look at you with a soft, shy expression. It could have just been the lighting, but he seemed to be blushing.

His eyes were stunningly vibrant.

"I love you." He admitted straight-forwardly, "I joke a lot to Armin, you know, that I'd only admit this if it was the apocalypse..."

His declaration of feelings sent a surge of confusion and delight across your mind. You had no idea how to respond, but you knew you had to say something or Eren would interpret your silence as rejection.

"I feel the same..." You spoke in a small voice, "I mean, this month, because of you, has been the best month in all my life, if I'm being honest."

[rosaacicularis]

Idk if you're still doing this, but if you still are! 🌹

-🍂

i am!! (also limited life finale spoilers!!)

“killing me and then falling to your death is starting to become a habit for you, it seems,” scar joked softly as grian died, became a ghost right next to scar. he didn’t sound angry about, almost resigned, as if he had expected it to happen.

[clairesrose]

In her shadow

Nicholas Chavez x Reader (Inspired by "Heather" by Conan Gray)

You watch from across the room, heart sinking as Nicholas laughs with Victoria. He looks at her like she's the only person in the world, a softness in his eyes you've only dreamed he’d have when looking at you.

The worst part? You can't even blame him. Victoria is beautiful, effortless, the kind of girl that people gravitate towards. But it hurts, seeing him so mesmerized, so lost in her.

Every moment, every glance you steal in his direction feels like it's breaking you a little more. You know he doesn’t see you that way, or at least that’s what you tell yourself to keep the ache at bay.

Then one evening, as you’re about to leave, he pulls you aside. The warmth in his gaze catches you off guard. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he says softly.

Your heart hammers in your chest as he admits he’s been trying to convince himself that his feelings for Victoria were real, when all along, he couldn't get you out of his mind. He confesses, stammering through his words, but there’s a glint in his eyes that says everything.

A slow smile creeps across your face, and he reaches out, taking your hand. It’s real, and suddenly, all the painful, lonely nights fade away.

You realize in that moment—Nicholas may have had a crush on someone else, but his heart belonged to you all along.

[intcritus]

[SACRIFICE]: the sender cups the receiver's face tenderly to distract them, right before shoving them out of the way (to safety) and facing an attack alone in order to buy the receiver enough time to escape. //Fushimi @ Itachi

It’s been nearly five months – five months with periodic attacks on the Uchiha lands. And it’s like there’s a purpose and method to them. It only tends to happen whenever the first borns are there, when they’re gathered in one place. But even when they aren’t, it’s obvious that even the smaller attacks are to throw them off. It’s bad enough that he cannot be there, and he knows his cousin is feeling the same, that need to destroy what and who is going against their family. Madara had ordered them both to stay where they were, and not to come home because he can feel that shit is about to hit the fan. 

And maybe that worried is founded on personal experience, that battle sense they were all born with but were mostly certainly heightened in the Founder. And for two weeks, it had been quiet, they’re all recuperating, with the elderly and children already away because they couldn’t risk their safety. It was a sound conclusion. And Madara had called only the immediate branch families back, just the adults who were combatants in this case. 

As they get out of the car, Itachi feels it. He’s not sure what it is exactly but everything feels off, his nose picking up on something sweet but sickly. Immediately his nose wrinkles ( if he’d realized sooner, it was something used to block the senses he relied on, leaving vulnerable ) , and he shares a look with Fushimi, but he’s staring off at something.

The short two minute walk through the trees to Uchiha lands was something they’d traversed before and yet as Itachi looked around, something was making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. There’s a shifting in the trees, and everything is so still but he can hear someone breathing nearby, like they’re trying to blend into the background. He, Fushimi and Kenta are still in the tree line, but Itachi has stopped walking, a furrow to his brow, and everything is silent, unnaturally so and he realizes he cannot hear anything, much less smell two feet in front of him.

Panic arises as everything sways, tilting as though he were drunk. So he cannot hear what’s happening around him. Cannot hear the roars of rage, the sound of flesh being rendered into a puddle, can barely feel the vibration of the earth beneath his feet. 

Then his husband is in front of him, his horns out, red bleeding into his skin and he’s furious, Itachi can ascertain without his senses. But– the hands on his face are tender, thumbs stroking over his cheeks before he’s roughly shoved away. And he sees why as someone with a blade ends up attacking Fushimi, in lieu of Itachi being shoved out of the way. And from the position of the blade, they’d been aiming for his head. But, he can’t leave his husband to fight his battles. And yet, Itachi isn’t stupid, he’s a liability at this moment. He cannot sense anything, much less react the way he’s been taught. 

An arrow lands at his feet and he has no choice but to scramble back, running the way he came with a slurred curse. Whatever he had inhaled after leaving the car had him sluggish, senses gone and he hates it so much. But he hates it even more that he has to leave Fushimi behind. Tears spill down his cheek, and a nudge against his side shows Seiji, in beast form, his horns scratching against Itachi’s side and guiding him back toward the car, whose tires are fucking punctured.

Another nudge before Seiji stops, motioning to his back with a low growl. It’s such a silly thought but there’s no hesitation to climb onto his son’s back, gently brushing through silver and onyx spotted fur before they’re running through trees and road, tears wetting his son’s fur. Why? Why was this happening now when their era of peace had settled in so nice ? Grief takes ahold of his heart, hoping and praying to his deities to keep Kenta and his husband safe. Fuck. Fuck ! Please keep them safe. If he hadn’t insisted on coming this way, they would be home. But was home even safe ?

and so shit hits the fan and he's whisked away to safety. | @nvrcmplt

[simple-seranade]

We bend till we're broken

Or

Those golden gates won't hold me now

-🍂

”We Bend Till We’re Broken”

Scar is a constant.

When Mumbo’s brain and body seem to function more like redstone than human, Scar is there to remind him to take breaks and pull him out of his head. When Grian is stuck in the space between now and then, all his senses being overloaded, Scar is there to give him a Jellie to pet and someone to do the watching and listening for once. No matter what life throws at them, Scar is there, adapting to problems like a tree grows and bends around a rock. Scar is rooted firmly in reality, no matter how much he has to change to stay that way.

But you can only bend a branch so far before it breaks, and there’s no guarantee someone will be around when it falls to hear it.

“Those Golden Gates Won’t Hold Me Now”

Bdubs is dead. Smushed to smithereens, taking part in the big schweep, however you want to put it. Being crushed by a moon isn’t really known for its survivability.

So he’s… ok, he’s kind of surprised to be waking up in heaven. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d get here honestly. But that’s not the main issue. The main issue is none of the hermits are here- which on one hand is good, since it means they’re not dead. On the other, it means Bdubs is… alone.

Screw this, he wants to see Etho again.

[burnin0akleaves]

Working on a WIP with an almost-laughing TRR Will in it, what a joyous day

[atherix]

Always happy to provide au angst<3

-🍂

I love the angst <3 Always down for hearing more 👀

[iridescent-solstice]

Me and @graciebasie after I cook up the most angstiest heartbreaking plot ever known to mankind 4 my oc Estrella-

so 305