#I only recently realized how all over the place her colors are

[celestite-caroline]

in this experiment we will give Toffee a more coherent color palette

[httpvomitello]

HI YOUR WRITING MAKES MY HEART SOAR! Just recently got back on my tmnt love and I was thinking. How would the guys react when they find out the woman they love also loves them back? Like they’ve been pining for months/YEARS even!! Maybe they still do or at some point they decide to abandon all feelings but then she tells them herself or maybe she or April accidentally let’s it slip to the turts. Would they immediately make a move? Would they get embarrassed and withdraw? I need to knowwwww 💙❤️💜🧡

Awwwn, thank you soooo much! Seriously, reading this makes me so happy. Hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡

Do You Like Me Too? *⁠.⁠✧

Leo had trained himself to set his feelings aside. So he kept everything bottled up—only allowing himself brief moments to imagine what it would be like if you felt the same way.

But that all changes one night while you and Leo are practicing together. You’ve been working on some new moves, and Leo’s been your patient mentor, guiding you, helping you adjust your stance.

After a particularly successful move, he gives you an approving smile. "Nice job, (Y/N). You’re really getting the hang of it."

You grin, catching your breath as you hold his gaze. But then, suddenly, your face softens, and the words slip out almost like a sigh: "Maybe I’m just trying to impress you."

Leo freezes, his heart hammering. He’s sure he must have misheard. "What?"

"I like you, Leo. Like… really like you." You smile shyly, as if the weight of your confession is finally off your shoulders. "I don’t think I could have hidden it much longer."

For a split second, Leo’s mind races. Every reason he’s ever come up with to keep his distance vanishes. His face softens, and he takes a deep breath, daring to move closer.

"I—" His voice catches, and he looks down, gathering his thoughts. "I thought I could just… bury these feelings and keep them hidden. For the sake of you, really. I didn’t want you to feel any kind of pressure…or guilt."

Your heart aches at the vulnerability in his eyes, and you reach up to gently cup his face, bringing his gaze back to yours. "Leo, you don’t have to hold back. I don’t want you to."

"I’ve loved you for so long, (Y/N)," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. "But I thought it was selfish of me to want you in my life that way."

Your gaze softens as you lean in closer. "Then let yourself be selfish for once, Leo."

He closes the remaining distance between you, pressing his lips softly against yours in a kiss that speaks of all the months he’s held back

“I think I could get used to this,” he murmurs, his voice filled with happiness.

Raph tried to deny his feelings for you for as long as he could. Sure, he’d admired you, flirted a little, maybe even let his jealousy slip out when someone else had your attention. But he never dared to take it any further. You deserved better, he’d tell himself, so he kept his distance and convinced himself it was better this way.

April, though, had always seen right through him. She knew he was hiding a soft spot under that gruff exterior, and she'd caught on to his little glances and subtle protectiveness.

One day, she comes over to your place with a casual, “So…when are you finally gonna tell Raph that you like him too?”

You blink, stunned. “Excuse me?”

April goes still, the color draining from her face as she realizes her mistake. “Oh no, I didn’t mean to—oh man, please don’t tell Raph I said anything.”

But you’re still processing, and your cheeks flush. “Wait, he…he likes me?”

April’s eyes widen as she realizes the floodgate she’s just opened. “Um…well, yeah, he kinda has for a long time.” She winces, giving you a guilty smile. “But he’d kill me if he knew I told you.”

You can’t help but smile, your heart racing at the thought. “I think it’s time I go have a talk with him.”

Raph’s sitting in the gym later that evening, he doesn’t notice you at first, so you clear your throat, causing him to look up, startled.

“Oh, hey,” he says, masking his surprise. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

You sit beside him, watching as he fidgets with a wrench, not quite meeting your eyes. After a moment, you take a deep breath. “Raph… April told me something today. And I need to know if it’s true.”

He freezes, his grip on the wrench tightening. “Oh yeah? What’d she say?”

“She…mentioned that you might have feelings for me.”

The wrench clatters to the floor as Raph turns to you, his face a mixture of panic and frustration. “Damn it, April—she wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

You reach out, placing a hand on his arm to calm him. “Raph, it’s okay. Actually… it’s more than okay.”

He looks up at you, searching your face, his eyes filled with hope and uncertainty. “What’re you saying?”

You smile, your own cheeks flushing. “I feel the same way, Raph. I’ve been wanting to tell you for ages, but I was worried about how you’d react.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, as if waiting for the punchline. Then, unable to hold back, he pulls you into a tight hug, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Damn, I thought you’d never notice," he whispers, his voice rough but full of relief.

Donnie had always been the hopeless romantic, pining for you in ways that even he knew were a little over the top. He could spend hours in his lab thinking about you, wondering if maybe, just maybe, you could ever feel the same. But he never dared to say anything, especially when every little interaction with you made his heart race to the point he thought he’d lose all composure.

But April knew. Of course she did; she could read Donnie like a book. And on one of your usual visits to the lair, she accidentally lets something slip.

"Donnie, you’re so silly!" you laugh, watching him fumble through some tech explanation he’s giving you. The way you smile at him has him grinning like a fool, and April can't resist rolling her eyes. She's seen this situation too many times, and as she leans back, she accidentally mutters, “If only she knew how much you’re into her…”

You freeze. “Wait, what?” You turn to April, wide-eyed, and Donnie goes pale, his mouth opening in horror as he stares at April.

April realizes her slip-up too late, and her cheeks go red. “I mean—I…uh, have to go grab something from the kitchen!” she stammers, bolting before either of you can ask her another question.

There’s a long, awkward silence as you turn to Donnie, waiting for an answer. “Is that true?” you ask softly.

Donnie’s eyes dart around, searching for some form of escape, but when none appears, he swallows hard and nods. “Yeah… it’s true. I’ve liked you for…a long time, actually.” His face flushes as he finally admits it, looking anywhere but at you.

A small smile tugs at your lips, and you reach out to gently touch his arm. “Donnie… I like you too.”

The words hit him like a shockwave, and his wide eyes finally meet yours. “Wait—what? You…you like me?”

You nod, your smile growing, and that’s all he needs. Slowly, a shy but delighted smile spreads across his face, and he lets out a little laugh, his fingers brushing against yours. "I never thought this day would actually come," he whispers.

With a grin, you step closer, and he reaches out, letting his hand brush your cheek before finally leaning in, pulling you into a gentle kiss, his heart racing with pure joy.

Mikey had always been open about his affection for you. Playful, flirty, and constantly teasing, he never held back with compliments and affectionate gestures. But you’d always just laughed and brushed him off, thinking it was just part of his personality.

What you didn’t know was that underneath his bright smiles and lighthearted antics, he’d been pining for you, hiding just how much he cared. For months, he’d wondered if you could ever take him seriously, if you’d ever see him as more than a friend.

One day, you decided to finally tell him how you felt. You’d noticed he’d been holding back a bit lately, that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to joke around as much. So you decided to risk it, showing up at the lair to talk to him.

He greets you with his usual grin, "Hey, (Y/N)! What’s up?"

"Mikey… can we talk for a sec?"

His smile falters, and he swallows, his hands fidgeting as he looks at you. "Yeah, of course. What’s on your mind?"

You take a deep breath, your heart pounding. "I just wanted to tell you that… well, I like you. More than a friend, I mean."

For a second, Mikey’s face is blank, and then it lights up in pure, unfiltered joy. "Wait—are you serious?" He lets out a little laugh, almost like he can’t believe it. "You really like me?"

"Yeah," you say, your own smile growing as you see how genuinely happy he looks. "I mean, I thought you’d already know by now."

Mikey practically bounces on his feet, letting out a loud whoop. Without missing a beat, he pulls you into a hug, lifting you slightly as he spins you around, laughing with pure excitement.

"I knew it! I knew there was something between us!" he says, eyes shining. Then he looks at you with a playful grin, leaning close as he whispers, "Guess that makes me your favorite turtle, huh?"

With a laugh, you press a kiss to his cheek, and he turns bright red but doesn’t stop smiling.

[cr4yolaas]

WHIPLASH — THAT'S THE INDUSTRY, BABY!

she knows what the journalism industry entails — false rules, odd etiquette, perfect structures and guidelines enforced by those at the top rung of the ladder. she also knows that if she's going to get what she wants, she needs to abide by all of it. even if it means throwing herself away.

001. armageddon / masterlist / 003. look back

The condensation collecting on her glass creates a little ring on the wooden table, an indication of how long she's spent waiting and her dissipating patience. Her shirt — the one Nobara picked out for her a year ago, in the midst of a Black Friday sale — pricks at her skin, the fabric much too irritating for everyday wear even despite its cutesy style, and even with the indecency and the scandals it would spark, she wants nothing more than to rip it off right there and then, forgoing the time it took for her to steam and iron it alongside her dress pants.

She glances at the clock. 9:28.

Almost thirty minutes late.

Just as she all-but-gracefully swings her leg around the ledge of her chair in preparation to leave, the door creaks open and the little bell above it jingles a cheery tune. A tinge of heat rushes to her face when she sees his attire — sweatpants that practically engulf him and a Sweat Oversized Pullover Hoodie from Uniqlo, of all places (she only remembers this from her last article, in which the basketball player she interviewed went on and on about his extensive, multi-colored collection of Uniqlo basics, which he wore to every meeting). Far more casual than her.

But that detail is immediately cast aside when she takes a glance at the jewelry donning his hand and the baseball cap he dons. It's familiar. Too familiar.

When it clicks, he smiles at her — no, he smirks. As if he'd won some internal battle that she wasn't informed of.

"You didn't realize? You talk a lot of shit for—"

"Please don't." Her head falls into the valley she's created between her hands, even more heat rising to the surface of her skin. He's holding it above her head, his words clearly mocking her but sliding into one ear and falling out of the other. He doesn't admit that he'd looked up her profile when she first reached out, her picture pristine and on display on the first page of section editors for SM News. She can't quite hear him over the loud pounding in her head. "That was one time. I don't do that frequently— or at all, really."

He makes a noise that falls between a laugh and a scoff. "Sure didn't seem like it."

If not for the circumstances, she would've reached over and gouged his eyes out.

She slides her hands down her face, a heavy breath escaping her lips. She can't quite afford to slip up this early, not with how important this exclusive is for her company. Something about a competition with the two other largest publishers in Tokyo, all of which are rushing to get their grimy hands on the city's most prized baseball team and their secrets. So, with the last bit of composure she can muster, she offers a deal — in exchange for the exclusive, she'll promise to give him a good rep in the industry and keep anything important away from her competing journalists, the ones who would fight tooth and nail for even a smidge of controversy to stir up anything in the (only recently) all-too-peaceful sports scene.

He looks at her as if to question her sanity, his eyes boring into hers.

They both know it's beyond unequal. That any normal, sane person would decline such a ridiculous offer. But, unfortunately for both of them, they have things to protect — and neither can risk exposure.

He grits his teeth before agreeing with a rushed, "Sure." Her coffee is far too watered down now, and as soon as the word slips from his mouth, his own drink arrives at the pick-up counter. She tries not to watch as he leaves to get it, but it's hard, especially when there's so much — too much — to lose here.

She wants to laugh. All because of one night, and a supposedly random man who offered an ear.

When he returns, the air clears ever so slightly, as if reaching a telepathic agreement to brush aside whatever history, however minimal, they shared prior to this moment, despite how significantly it could impact both of their careers. He slides her his phone all too trustingly, and on screen is everything she needs — schedules, details, dates. Immediately, she gets to work, the cover of her MacBook (company provided, thankfully) almost flying open and her notepad already resting to her right. He pretends not to notice the Asahi Dry design on her pen, the details akin to something randomly handed out at a festival or convention. On the other hand, he does notice how crazed and frantic she looks, and makes a point to comment on it.

"Just so you know, you look insane," he mutters while leaning back in his seat, a juxtaposition to her hunched posture as she jots something down.

She scoffs under her breath, her hand still writing rapidly while the other hovers over the mousepad. "How else do you think I got here?"

He's pushed into silence with that, leaving him to observe more than he should. He catches on quickly to how often she brushes stray hands hair away from her face, sometimes snappily, and other times carefully. The collar of her shirt isn't centered, the result of her feverish efforts. Her foot keeps tapping against the bottom ring of her tall chair. Too much to notice. He tries not to, but it proves difficult when all he can do is quietly watch.

It takes ten minutes before she straightens up, excitedly packing her bag before explaining that she'll message him regarding their next interview and the information she'll need, a perfect script she'd memorized within her first year of writing. On the contrary, he's sluggish, almost as if he doesn't want to leave the comfort of the seat. Megumi glances at their drinks — hers isn't even halfway finished, and the ring at the bottom of her glass is more of a puddle now, whereas his is a sip away from meeting the trash can. "I'll pay," he mutters while just barely noticing that she got his order down to a tee prior to even meeting him. He can't mention it before she retorts almost instantly, her tongue laced with sass and minimal patience.

"Did you think you weren't paying at the start?" She's smiling at him.

"Dunno."

"Yikes," she laughs, and it's not forced or professional or scripted or any of the sort. He feigns annoyance at the noise.

The door jingles with the same joyous melody from before when they exit together, his hand holding the door open for her albeit begrudgingly. Something that sounds like a goodbye slips from her lips, and before they split paths, she waves (customarily). He ignores it for a moment — it irks him, her behavior and how desperate she is for this exclusive. But beneath the ire bubbling up, there's a hint of guilt, pushing him to wave back.

By the time he turns around, she's already gone.

★ nobara is the source of like 40% of yn's wardrobe

★ sometimes she'll come home with three bags of clothes and ask yn to try them all on and keep the ones she likes

★ its the golf course tips from old men that funds this behavior

★ the asahi dry pen is a real thing bc i have one that i got from the oc japan fair LOL. it's actually pretty cute and writes well

★ yn almost cried tears of joy when they gave her a new macbook once she got promoted to section editor ... hers was falling apart and had the nasty screen protector marks from when she peeled it off

★ megs was in a bad mood the rest of the day. like a little ipad kid throwing a silent tantrum

★ also sorry not sorry i’m projecting my social ineptitude onto yuuji for the rest of this fic </3

TAGLIST: @kameyyy @s777athv @solecitoszn @1l-ynn @valvoria @standcom @kissunday @hqnge @applepi25 @fushiguruuzzzz @reveurdoll @anotherwriternamedclara @sh0ot1ngst4r @starrysho @lizbix @diearama @cherryredribbons @asuritam @tiramizuloz @saltypuffin1040 @burnishingbagels @beepbopzlorp @reezerdotcom @tibibibi123 @carneries @gumims @chososcamgirl @anngelllla @fefesooli @anngelllla @tiramizuloz @reezerdotcom @vrxouei @s3ns4ti0n4l

divider creds @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[everythingbridgertonbxm]

Champagne & Shenanigans

Summary - You and Benedict become not so sober at a ball.

Notes - 760 words. She’s a short bean, but we love her anyhow. Fluff, my grammar, neck kisses?, drinking/being drunk. *Don’t repost or translate this without my permission.*

🥂🎨

You couldn’t remember how you ended up drunk, but you did. One moment you were entering the ball, the next you felt a buzz running through your body. You weren’t drunk enough to do something outrageously embarrassing, but you most certainly didn’t have your manners completely attached. Both fortunately and unfortunately your husband was just as drunk as you were. You had just finished a glass of wine, and replaced that glass with a glass of champagne when you realized you hadn’t scene your husband in a while.         

You approached his mother. “Have you seen, Benedict?”       

Violet Bridgerton shook her head, smiling. “No, my dear. Not recently. I last saw him in discussion with Lord Raemwork, discussing the colors of the wall.”       

You thanked her and made your way through the crowd, making sure to not spill your champagne. You found your husband, observing the painting on the wall. You quickly approached him and found him with a glass of wine in his hand. He was muttering under his breath about the colors working naturally well with the light.       

“Ben, dear?” You said, approaching him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He turned to face you, smiling upon realizing who it was. He pulled your hand up to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of it before doing it again and one more time for good measure, making you cover up a giggle. A few heads turned your war.     

“We are at an event, Benedict,” you admonished as best you could but your husband was too busy observing your face to pay much attention.             

He only grinned in your direction, before reaching for the fabric of your dress, playing with the skirt a moment. He let out a happy, thankfully quiet, gasp. “You see how the wall color complements your dress so well, dear?” Benedict noted proudly. He looked between your dress and the wall once more. “Perhaps we should repaint the drawing room. I like this blue.”      

You laughed before reaching for his hand and downing the rest of your champagne in one swig. You pulled him away from the wall, that dumb grin that made your heart pump like wild spreading over his face.        

You passed Lady Cowper and her daughter, Cressida. Neither of them were very pleasant. You leaned towards Lady Cowper’s ear as your walked by. “You have something on your bodice.” You relished, maybe too much, the sudden look of horror on her face as she stepped away to check what you were referring too. It was more exciting to know that she had gotten herself riled up over nothing.       

Making your way through the crowd, as quickly as you could without being impolite, your husband smiling all the way. You pushed the doors open that lead out to the gardens, breathing in the night air. You were barely out the door when Ben pulled you towards him, placing a kiss on your cheek, then your other cheek. You giggled against his touch before pulling him farther into the gardens. You both paused before a statue of an angel above a fountain. “What a pretty face,” you mumbled, looking at it.         

Benedict hummed in agreement, as you turned your gaze back to him, realizing he wasn’t even looking at the statue. “Yes you do,” he said stepping towards you and placing a not so chaste kiss against your lips.          

You laughed in response as your husband’s arms wrapped around your waist, before looking back over at the angel. “Now imagine that statue in the blue you’re in now,” Benedict whispered into your ear before kissing it.       

You let out a small hum in response before stepping forward and dipping your finger into the fountain and then pulling it out again. You weren’t really sure why but you just really wanted to do that. Benedict stepped forward again, an arm going around your waist, the other lifting up to the side of your face, his finger twirling a loose curl in your hair. He leaned forward ever so slightly placing a kiss on the side of your neck before looking back up at the angel.      

“Unfortunate you don’t have paint on you,” you whispered as if whispering the most important secret out there.        

Benedict laughed, placing another kiss to your neck.       

“Time to go home?” You asked him. Benedict has a tendency to become a needy man-child when he was drunk. You didn’t need to see Ben’s face to know he was grinning from ear to ear.              

“Time to go home.” 

[xtra7s]

𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙨

𝚁𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚎 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚙 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Synopsis: Renee realizes her girlfriend is struggling and comes back from her tour.

Content: depression warning, fluff, deep talks/discussions, just tw

Word Count: 1.800+

a/n: I havent been writing lately, but I was listening to my shitty ass sad playlist after I hit my bong n wanted to write based on how I felt. Srry it's sad lol.

Masterlist |

As Y/N lay in bed, surrounded by the suffocating weight of her thoughts, she felt as if she were trapped. Depression wasn't just a feeling; it was a state of being, an all-encompassing darkness that clouded her mind and consumed her soul.

The disassociation was perhaps the most insidious aspect of it all. It was like watching her life unfold from behind a thick pane of glass, disconnected from the world around her. She went through the motions of her daily routine, but it felt hollow, as if she were merely a spectator in her own life like she was sleeping.

Numbness was her constant companion, a thick fog that dulled her senses and dulled the vibrant colors of the world around her. It was difficult to muster up any enthusiasm or joy when every emotion seemed to be buried beneath layers of apathy, she just felt lost, like she was suffocating.

Boredom was another relentless adversary, gnawing at her from the inside out. No matter what she did, nothing seemed to hold her interest for long. Hobbies that once brought her joy now felt like meaningless distractions, and even the simplest tasks felt like Herculean feats.

But perhaps the cruelest aspect of it all was the overwhelming loneliness that seemed to suffocate her at every turn. It wasn't just a lack of companionship; it was a profound sense of isolation, a feeling of being utterly and completely alone in the world.

Even when surrounded by friends and loved ones, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that she was nobody's person. It was as if she were standing on the outside looking in, watching as everyone else lived their lives while she remained stuck in place, unable to move forward.

And so, as she lay in bed, tears streaming down her cheeks, Y/N couldn't help but feel as if she were buried alive and clawing at the wood til her fingers bled.

The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the sun that shined through the curtains, much to Y/N's discomfort. It was a familiar scene, one that had become all too common in recent months, she didn't have the energy to shut the blinds.

Depression had become Y/N's unwanted companion, a shadow that followed her every step, always coming back even after she thought she got rid of it. Loneliness was its cruelest weapon, wrapping around her like a suffocating blanket, isolating her from the world.

She had tried to fight it, tried to push through the fog that clouded her mind, but tonight, it felt like an impossible task. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared blankly at the ceiling, feeling utterly lost and alone.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, her girlfriend Renee had sensed the shift in her demeanor. Renee had been on tour for the past few weeks, but even from miles away, she could feel when something was amiss with Y/N.

Tonight, as Renee finished her performance on stage, her thoughts were consumed by Y/N. Something didn't feel right, a nagging sense of worry gnawing at her heart. Ignoring the cheers of the crowd, Renee hurried back to her dressing room, her mind racing with concern.

Once backstage, Renee grabbed her phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed Y/N's number. It rang once, twice, before Y/N's voice echoed through the receiver, thick with emotion.

"Hey," Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey, love," Renee replied, her heart aching at the sound of Y/N's voice. "Is everything okay?"

Y/N hesitated, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak. But Renee's presence, even over the phone, was a balm to her weary soul.

"I… I don't know," Y/N confessed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I just… I feel so lost, Renee. Like I'm drowning in my own thoughts."

Renee's heart shattered at Y/N's words, the pain in her voice cutting through her like a knife. Without a second thought, she made a decision.

"Y/N, I'm coming home," Renee declared, her voice filled with determination. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat at the sincerity in Renee's words. Despite the distance between them, Renee's love was a beacon of light in the darkness.

"Please hurry," Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

"I will," Renee promised, her own tears mingling with Y/N's across the miles. "I love you, Y/N. Just hold on a little longer, okay?"

As they hung up, a spark of hope ignited within her chest. Even in her darkest moments, Renee was her guiding star, leading her back to the light.

The moment Renee stepped through the door, she could feel the heavy atmosphere weighing down the air. The dimly lit apartment seemed to echo with Y/N's silent struggle, and Renee's heart clenched at the sight.

Renee quickly made her way to the bedroom, where she found Y/N curled up under the blankets, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. Without a word, Renee slipped into bed beside her, wrapping her arms around Y/N and pulling her close.

Y/N melted into Renee's embrace, her body trembling with the weight of her emotions. Renee held her tightly, offering silent comfort as Y/N buried her face in Renee's chest, seeking solace in her warmth.

For a long moment, they lay there in silence, the only sound the steady rhythm of their breathing. But eventually, Y/N found the courage to speak, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm sorry, Renee," Y/N murmured, her words muffled against Renee's shirt. "I hate that you have to see me like this."

Renee brushed a gentle kiss against Y/N's forehead, her heart aching at the pain in her eyes.

"Don't apologize, love," Renee murmured, her voice tender. "You never have to apologize for how you feel. I'm here for you, always."

Y/N's breath hitched at Renee's words, the love and acceptance in her voice a balm to her wounded soul.

"I just… I don't know how to cope anymore," Y/N confessed, her voice breaking with emotion. "It feels like I'm drowning.."

Renee's heart clenched at the despair in Y/N's voice, but she refused to let it consume them. With a gentle hand, she tilted Y/N's chin up, meeting her gaze with unwavering determination.

"You're not alone in this, Y/N," Renee said firmly, her eyes brimming with love. "We'll get through this together, okay? I'll be right here by your side every step of the way."

Y/N nodded, a glimmer of hope sparking in her eyes as Renee's words washed over her like a lifeline.

"What if I never get better?" Y/N whispered, her voice laced with fear.

Renee's heart broke at the vulnerability in Y/N's words, shaking her head.

"We'll figure it out together," Renee promised, her voice shaky. "There are so many ways we can tackle this, whether it's therapy, medication, or finding what works for you. We'll take it one day at a time."

Y/N's shoulders sagged with relief at Renee's unwavering support, the weight of her burden suddenly feeling a little lighter.

"Thank you, Renee," Y/N whispered, tears shimmering in her eyes. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Renee brushed a tender kiss against Y/N's lips, pouring all of her love and devotion into the gentle caress.

"You'll never have to find out," Renee promised, her voice filled with conviction. "I love you, Y/N. And I'm not going anywhere."

As Y/N lay in Renee's arms, her thoughts churned with a whirlwind of emotions. The weight of her depression bore down on her like a heavy anchor, dragging her deeper into the abyss of her own mind.

"Renee," Y/N's voice wavered, breaking the heavy silence that enveloped them. "I feel like I'm stuck. Like I'm trapped in this endless cycle of figuring it all out then knowing nothing again."

Renee's heart ached at the tremble in Y/N's voice, her grip tightening around Y/N's trembling form.

"I know, love," Renee murmured, her voice soft with understanding. "I'm here.."

Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she gazed up at Renee, her vulnerability laid bare for the world to see.

"But what if it's not enough?" Y/N whispered, her cracking ever so slightly as she spoke. "I feel like I'll always be this way. I never seem to get better, Renee."

Renee's heart shattered at the despair in Y/N's words, the fear of losing her consuming her from the inside out.

"You're not broken, Y/N," Renee insisted, her voice firm with conviction. "You're human. And humans are allowed to feel lost sometimes. But that doesn't mean you can't find your way back."

Y/N smiled sadly at Renee, trying to believe her words.

"I just… I feel like I'm losing everyone," Y/N confessed, her voice trembling with emotion. "And I'm so scared of being alone."

Renee's heart constricted at the raw honesty in Y/N's words, the pain of her loneliness echoing in her own soul.

"You're not alone, Y/N," Renee whispered, her voice laced with tenderness. "You're my person, and I'm yours. We'll navigate your darkness together, hand in hand, until we find our way back to the light."

Y/N's tears flowed freely now, cascading down her cheeks like a waterfall of emotion. But with Renee's unwavering love to anchor her, she felt a glimmer of hope amidst the storm.

"Thank you, Renee," Y/N murmured, her voice choked with gratitude. "For being my light in the darkness."

Renee pressed a gentle kiss against Y/N's forehead, pouring all of her love and devotion into the tender gesture.

"Always, love," Renee promised, her voice a whispered vow. "I'll always be here for you. No matter what."

As the weight of their shared emotions began to ease, exhaustion swept over Y/N like a gentle tide, pulling her into the embrace of sleep. Renee held her close, their bodies entwined in a comforting embrace.

In the quiet of the night, as the world outside fell into a hushed slumber, Renee pressed a tender kiss to Y/N's temple, her lips lingering against the warmth of her skin.

"Sleep now, my love," Renee whispered, her voice a soft murmur in the darkness. "And remember, don't kill the flowers."

Y/N watched Renee sleepily, hooded eyes silently agreeing with her words. Sleep soon claimed her, pulling her into its gentle embrace.

And as they drifted into dreams, the promise of a new day.

𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴.

[theelvisprincess]

A Woman

Warning- 18+

--

Butterflies aggressively swirl around in your stomach as you impatiently wait in the master bedroom for Elvis to come home from filming his upcoming movie. Nervously chewing on your bottom lip- you anxiously look at the clock that is situated right on top of the lavish white dresser he had recently bought just because you had looked at it more than once in the store. Sitting on the edge of the king sized bed- you take a deep breath. Your diamond necklace grazes your skin as your chest fills with air- the gentle scent of the room fills your nostrils as you begin to run the pads of your fingers throughout your hair. You're finally gonna do it. You're going to ask him to make you a woman. While he was away- you talked to his friends' wives- all of them gasping in shock when you explained how you were indeed still a virgin. You didn’t know how to take their reaction but they did in fact tell you to tell him you were ready. ‘’Maybe he’s waiting for you to beg for it!’’ One of the wives declared waving her cigarette a little too close to your face- making you harshly cough. 

It has been three long days since the interaction and it’s been eating you alive. Thinking of how and what to tell him was what kept you up late at night. What pushed you to want to ask him however wasn't from what that wife said- it was Red’s wife's statement that really got inside your head.

‘’He’s probably getting that kinda love somewhere else if he ain’t asking you for it, sweetheart.’’ She stoically stated as she peered at her tacky blue colored nails.

Your face conorts in uncertainty as you recall the memory. Looking around the newly decorated room- you rub your toes nervously in the soft fluffy throw rug underneath you. Your heart soon drops to the depths of your stomach as you hear the familiar voices of Elvis’ men chattering loudly from the open window next to the television. Quickly shooting up from the bed- you head over to the window peering down to observe the group greeting their wives and girlfriends. Running your hands over your white dress to diminish any wrinkles- you anxiously note Elvis is nowhere to be seen. ‘’1... 2….3…4.’’ You softly count the cars parked right out front- eyebrows scrunching together as you realize the car he took is parked right there amongst the others. 

Gasping loudly- you shoot your hands up to grab hold of the much larger ones that are cupping your eyes that are blocking your vision. The smell. The oh so familiar scent of his cologne causes you to sigh in relief. ‘’Keep your pretty little eyes shut when I take my hands off, baby. I-I got a little something for ya.’’ Elvis peers down as he admires your petite body next to his. He hasn’t seen you in two full weeks and the women over in Hollywood were a lot different from you- they were experienced- not just willing but able and here you were safely tucked away in his beloved home. Staying the innocent little doll he wants to keep you. That did nothing but make his heart swell with pride as he lovingly gazes at your beautiful face. Biting his bottom lip he slowly brings his hands down- he alone walks steadily over to the bed where he carefully placed the gift he had thoroughly picked out for you- toying with the ribbon one last time to make sure it was perfect for you. Excitement bubbles up inside of you- not only for the gift but just the fact you get to see him after being away from each other for what seemed like an eternity.. 

Walking over to you- he gently grabs hold of your shoulders turning you around to slowly walk you towards the edge of the bed. ‘’Being away so long- I forget how damn pretty ya are.’’ He warmly states near your ear as he brings you right in front of the present. ‘’Okay, pretty. Open your eyes.’’ Shooting your eyes open- you quickly close them once again from how bright the room currently is. Slowly opening this time to adjust to the light- your mascara covered eyes widen as soon as you realize what he bought you. ‘’I- Elvis… this is too expensive I-’’ Stopping your sentence in shock you tear your eyes away from the gift to gaze up at him. Taking in his glistening blue eyes- luscious plump lips- and perfect face- you audibly sigh. Burying the side of your face into his chest you tear your eyes away from him to look back at the sparkling diamond wrist watch. ‘’You have to stop buying me stuff but- I-I love it. I’ve been looking at magazines with this exact watch but it- it’s so expensive.’’ You bring your hand down to pick the box that was popped open to display the beautiful watch. 

Elvis watches as your eyes begin to twinkle while looking at his gift. ‘’It’s gonna look perfect on your wrist, honey. Don’t worry your little head about the expenses jus enjoy the gift, hm? A little birdie tol’ me you had taken a liking to this watch.’’ A smile overtakes your expression as you once again tear your eyes away from the watch and back to peer up at him through squinted eyes. ‘’A little birdie?’’ You giggle out as you watch him bring his hand up to playfully zip his mouth and throw the key. 

‘’I love it, thank you very much.’’ You wholeheartedly say as you place the watch carefully on the bed- turning your body to fully face him. He shoots you a sly grin as he wraps his arms around your little body- pulling you gently into his front. Your hands snake up to wrap around his neck to bring him down so his plump lips can finally crash onto yours. He groans into the kiss from how long it’s been since he’s tasted your sweet lips- deepening the kiss. The taste of mint and tobacco fills your mouth as you lovingly graze your tongue on top of the tip of his. Pulling away- anxiety pools in your stomach as you look up at him. His eyebrows immediately furrow as he takes in your sudden change of demeanor. ‘’What’s the matter, honey?’’ Damn him and his unworldly intuition. 

‘’I-I have-’’ Pausing you look away from the older man. Closing your eyes you try and build up the courage for the nerve wracking statement to finally spill past your lips. You then come up with an idea- maybe not the best but it might work. Going on your tippy toes- you grab hold of his neck once more- desperately bringing him down to once again crash your lips onto his. Taken back from the heated kiss- he groans once again in your mouth. His hands trail from your waist to rest firmly on your hips. You swiftly run your hand down from his neck to his black dress shirt- slowly unbuttoning it as you continue kissing his pillowy lips. You then bring your leg somewhat up to rub your thigh on his linen covered bulge 

Pulling abruptly away- he furrows his eyebrows as he shoots you a look of disapproval. ‘’What the hell has gotten into ya?’’ His right hand goes down to roughly take hold of your delicate wrist- stopping your movements. You gasp lightly at the piercing gaze and the strong grip that’s now wrapped around you. ‘’Y-your hurting me- please stop-’’ Tears start to build in your eyes as you feel his grasp tighten. 

‘’Nah, you're hurtin’ me. I was thrilled to come home to a patient, innocent, little girl who’s thankful for her thoughtful gift n’ all I got in return was some needy little slut.’’ The tears that blurred your vision now spilling down your rosy cheeks as you take in his harsh tone and anger filled gaze. One thing you didn’t take into consideration before acting out on your little plan, was how fast he can flip on a dime. ‘’Is that what ya want? Ya want to be treated like some cheap hooker?’’ A sob escapes from your lips as you quickly shake your head. The way he’s looking at you is making you feel so small which only adds to the hurtful pang you feel in your rapidly beating heart. ‘’I-I m’ sorry- d-don’t. I just wanted you to finally make me a woman, y-your woman.’’ You get out between sobs as you look down from his heated gaze to your freshly polished toes being engulfed by the rug. ‘’Some wives told me t-to ask you.’’ You admit half truthfully knowing damn well you wanted it more than anything. 

Silence. Something you never wanted to hear when talking to Elvis Presley. Your heart drops to your stomach once again- just this time it was a million times more intense. 

He couldn’t believe it. His sweet angel asking him to do something so wrong. He looks over your puffy face- mascara already staining your rosy cheeks as your lips part for air from in between soft sobs. ‘’You want me to treat ya how Red n’ ole Joe treat their little wives, huh? …Get on your knees.’’ You gasp softly hearing his command. A mix of excitement and uncertainty shooting throughout your body as you look up into his hard to read eyes. Your knees beck at his words- the softness of the rug grazes your smooth leg as you crane your neck to look up at him towering over you. He lets go of your wrist and goes to slowly unzip his pants- cock springing out from the lack of underwear. A jolt of electricity shoots down to your special parts as you take in his size. His hand firmly wraps around himself- pumping it a few times making his length grow more than what it was before. ‘’Elvis what d-do I-’’

‘’Ah shut up.’’ He grumbles harshly as he takes in your whore of a state.. He never in a million years thought he was going to be treating you this way but with stress from his stupid movies and the way you had eagerly asked for him to make you a woman- it lit a fire of anger inside him. Everyone seems to be telling him what to do recently and that is something that he absolutely despises- even his angel of a fiance was now demanding stuff from him. ‘’Open your mouth, little girl. Let me finally put it to good use.’’ Obeying in an instant- you peer up through blurred vision as you feel his tip graze your tongue. Elvis brings his free hand to firmly slide into the back of your silky hair just in case you try to pull away from him. ‘’That’s a good girl.’’ He praises as he watches you wrap your small mouth around his swollen tip. Precum is already leaking onto your tongue as he pushes himself deeper into your mouth. 

It doesn’t take long for your hands to shoot up to firmly push against his thighs and for you to gag loudly around him from the sheer size of his length. Groaning deeply- he pulls back just a little already loving the feeling of your mouth. It was so much softer than all the other girls' mouths for reasons he can’t explain- and your saliva was coating his cock just the way he likes. ‘’It’s like ya were made for this- don try n’ fight it, baby. Besides- ain’t this whatcha wanted?’’ He teasingly states- his chuckle soon turning to a deep groan as he feels your head move to nod- this only making his length wiggle down to your tight throat. 

‘’S-shit.’’ Elvis hisses as he pulls himself back- only to forcefully push himself back in. Your eyes screw shut as the feeling becomes too much. You try to pull back, your lack of oxygen concerning you. ‘’Hell.’’ He grunts disappointingly even though he loves you being inexperienced more than he’ll ever admit. ‘’I can’t b-breath when you do it like that.’’ You innocently huff out as you catch your breath. Your hands still firmly resting on each thigh as you look up at him. 

‘’Honey, you’ve been at it for less than a minute.’’ You bite your lower lip as you hear the upset tone he speaks down at you in. The fluff of the carpet now filling hard due to you sinking deeper onto your knees. ‘’Can we do something else?’’ The hopefulness in your voice was enough to make him chuckle. Putting his hands on his hips he looks down at you then back at his very much erect length, giving you that mischievous smile with an unreadable sparkle twinkling in his eyes. ‘’Gimme your hand.’’ His hand goes down from his hip and wraps gently around your much smaller one. You watch as he steadily brings it onto his length, both yours and his wrapping firmly around him. His hips stutter as he feels your freshly done fingernail graze the bottom of his tip. He guides your hand up and down his length with his own, loving the complete blush that covers your pretty face. ‘’Open your mouth.’’ His voice seems to have a deep rasp you’ve never heard coming from him before.

You obey immediately. Your tongue sticking out as you wait for him to move you closer- what you didn’t expect however, was him leaning down- lifting your chin with his other hand. That’s when you watch as a string of saliva from his mouth swiftly goes into yours. You don’t understand why your panties are starting to feel messy or why your hand that’s wrapped around him speeds up from him doing that but it does. You moan slightly as you taste him in your mouth, he lets go of your chin to now tower above you. He never thought he was going to treat you with such vulgarity but it’s turning him on more than doing it to any bitch back in Hollywood. ‘’Now, use that to get my tip nice n’ wet, baby.’’ You nod eagerly as you practically lurch forward and spill whatever he put in your mouth to now generously coat his weeping tip. The deep groan that comes from him sends a shiver down your spine. You’ve never made him make a noise like that before- it motivates you to want to hear it again. Your thighs squeeze together for some friction as you feel some of your mixed saliva from his length spill down your chin. 

‘’Goddamnit- sucha dirty little girl.’’ He practically growls as you work your hands up and down his hard length- his own hand having moved away a while ago. Your mouth sucking just the tip just like he told you to do. His head drops back as he stares at the ceiling- the mirror barely reaches the two of you that’s hovering over the bed giving  him the most sinful view. He watches as your tongue kitten licks his tip and then how you slowly take him back into your mouth. You feel him twitch in your hand making you moan around him. ‘’Shit-’’ He hisses through gritted teeth once again as he feels the vibrations from your moan shoot up his spine. Elvis' head drops down- he returns looking at you as he pleads. ‘’Ah shit baby…stop… you.. wait-’’ You’ve never felt more powerful in your little life. This man, this man that you’ve always seen so put together- crumbling before your eyes in ways you never knew were imaginable. 

You feel his hips once again stutter against your tightly gripped hand- his length twitching almost throbbing against your lips. You peer up at him through glossed eyes- the view is something you’ll never forget. You look into his lustful, glossy eyes- his lips are parted as if he’s trying to continue to speak but the words aren’t coming out.

This only motivates you to keep up your movements as you once again squeeze your thighs together. ‘’Wait, honey-’’ He once again tries to say but it comes out weak. Your eyebrows scrunch together as you look up at him- not knowing why he’s telling to wait or stop your actions. ‘’Ah fuck.’’ He groans loudly as he fills his orgasm take over- his hand that has wandered onto the back of your silky hair, tightening. Your eyes widen as you begin to taste something completely foreign shoot inside your mouth. You pull back- swallowing some and the rest dripping down your chin- you gasp while gazing at the tip as you see some shoot out and land directly on your cheek. 

Groaning one last time he fully takes you in. Your look of astonishment makes him let out an airy chuckle, his laugh doing that hiccup thing you love so much. ‘’Honey- I tol’ you to stop.’’ He teases as his hands go down to swipe some of the cum off of your chin, to wipe on his shirt. He’s feeling somewhat bad but he can’t help admire the seed planted on your cheek. ‘’How’s it taste, pretty?’’ Your face relaxes into a grin and you nod a tiny bit. ‘’It kinda tastes good, I just- wasn’t expecting t-that.’’ His mischievous grin disappears and is replaced with a stern look. ‘’Here.’’ He once again gathers some from your chin but this time brings it up to your lips instead. ‘’This right here- is the only thing that could ever make ya a woman.’’ Your doe eyes look at the white coated finger, it moving forward to gently enter your warm mouth. You moan around his finger making his eyes squint at you. He pulls his finger out once he feels that you’ve licked it clean. ‘’Am I a woman now?’’ Your hopeful question makes him stop his squinting. 

Both hands rise to firmly rest on his hips. Shaking his head down at you, your heart drops. ‘’Nope. And I ain’t making you a woman any time soon, is that understood? Ask again n’ you’ll regret it.’’ 

His eyes pierce sharply down into yours as he towers above you. The position you're in correlates exactly with how he’s making you feel inside. You watch as he tucks himself back into his slacks. You nervously nod as he wipes the remaining cum from your cheek. Tears begin to fill your eyes as you realize your plan has failed. Not only did it fail but you can’t help but feel you’ve disappointed the one person who takes good care of you. ‘’Poor thing. Ain’t nothing ta cry over.. Stand up, honey.’’ You lift yourself up off the ground- the height between the two of you is still significant. He pulls you in gently, the smell of him surrounds you as you cling to him. He hums softly as he holds you close to his chest. Your head being completely engulfed by him. Sure he feels a little bad, for your his baby- but he just doesn't want you to be brought into that just yet. Shushing you gently he sways your little body against his. He needs to deal with who made his pretty little thing all worked up over this. 

‘’Now, you're gonna tell me the names of the woman who tol’ you to do that...’’ You stiffen against him as you hear that oh so familiar baritone in his voice- the vibrations from it rumbling against your head. You once again chew on your bottom lip as you think back, the tears that have spilled from your eyes making his black button up all damp against your temple as you look out the window- feeling somewhat bad that you're going to have to rat them out- knowing damn well they’re going to get told off… maybe worse. 

‘’Shut that pretty little head off n’ jus’ tell me, honey.’’

Watching the tree gently sway from the swift autumn breeze outside, you take in the calm before the storm. He’s about to turn the whole place upside down once he finds out who told you to do things you shouldn't have… he has before.

‘’Let daddy take care of everything.’'

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

UHHH THIS WAS eh compared to my others... but I wanted to post so ya'll know I'm still here!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you for reading lovelies, I have other ideas so stay tuned. I wrote this today so it's rushed but LOVE YA'LL....hope it made sense!!! Elvis loves his innocent babyyy

taglist: @elviswhore69 @jhoneybees @atleastpleasetelephone @hooked-on-elvis @eptodaytommorowforever

@lustnhim @sissylittlefeather @elvisslut @elvisvideos @iloveelvisss

@from-memphis-with-love @elvispresley1956

[sleepiexx]

Can’t Lose You

Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!Reader

Note: way late to the party of writing for Ghost but y’know I had my fun

Summary: A mission goes slightly off plan, Simon doesn’t take it too well.

Warnings: he yells at u lmao, mention of injury, mention of blood, mention of stitches

Word count: 1190

Mere seconds after the rest of the team cleared out of the room to take off gear and rest for the night, leaving Ghost alone in a room with (Y/N), he snapped. The stress of the recent mission got in his head. It brewed nothing but trouble for him, anger festering until it boiled over. Namely the part where (Y/N) went into the enemy compound by herself— as she’d been ordered to do— when, unbeknownst to the team, her comms were cut leaving them with no way of telling whether she was alive or dead for a large chunk of their assignment.

It all worked out in the end but that did nothing to quell Ghost’s simmering rage.

“You’re a bloody fucking idiot.” He growled, “It’s like you don’t care about your own god damn well being. You’re completely fucking reckless, do you even realize how easily you could have been killed!”

(Y/N) was surprised at Ghost’s hostile behavior, normally they were on good terms. If he was mad at anyone, it was never her. Not to mention that the situation had in no way been her fault.

She scoffed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and anger, “I was fine! Barely got hurt, I don’t know why you’re getting your panties in a twist over nothing.”

He knew he shouldn’t be this mad, the rational part of his brain could reason that it wasn’t even her fault. But he wasn’t thinking logically, he was thinking emotionally, and to him yelling seemed the only way to express big emotions, “It may not be this time, it may not be the next, but if you keep on like this, some day you are going to meet the consequences of your actions and it is not going to be pretty.”

By then, (Y/N) was pissed, “Jesus Christ, it’s not that serious, Ghost! This is my fucking job! I don’t see you getting onto anyone else like this. What, do you think I can’t handle myself because I’m a woman or some shit?”

“No it’s not that it’s-“ because I love you, “it’s-“

She was sick of the arguing and frankly could not stand the fact that he wouldn’t refute her claim of sexism. She never pegged him as the type, but sooner or later, most military guys showed their true colors.

“Yeah, while you try and think up some shitty excuse, I’m going to go get cleaned up.” She stood from her seat quickly, black dotted her vision.

Ghost watched from behind, confused as she stood there swaying for a moment. Quicker than he could catch her, she slammed to the ground.

He was filled with alarm as he yelled out to her, “(Y/N)!” He was at her side in a split second, turning her onto her back.

“Fuck.” He muttered. She was out cold.

Ghost didn’t even think, it was second nature to help her. He pulled her off the ground, one arm behind her back, one under her knees. With her in his arms, he sprinted to the infirmary.

“Medic! I need a medic!” He screamed as he neared the infirmary.

All heads turned towards Ghost holding (Y/N) in his arms. Any medic who wasn’t previously occupied with an injured soldier ran towards them.

“What happened?” One of them asked, putting on latex gloves.

Ghost was shaken to his very core, even stuttering out a simple response was hard. “She just- she just fell, I don’t know.”

(Y/N) was taken from his arms and moved to a cot where they removed all of her gear. Her green shirt was heavily stained with blood, just below where her bulletproof vest ended.

“Fucking hell.” Ghost whispered. His hands made their way to his head to rake through his hair but he was stopped by his mask. Instead, he ran his hands up and down his head.

He felt horrible. He spent this whole time yelling at her instead of checking if she was okay and she wasn’t. He shouldn’t have been yelling at her in the first place, he only now realized that. He wasn’t mad, he wasn’t even disappointed, he was scared.

They lifted her shirt, revealing a huge gash that was overflowing with blood. The medic who was wearing gloves pressed gauze down harshly on the wound to stop the bleeding as another medic ran to get the suture kit.

14. She ended up getting 14 stitches in her abdomen. The wound narrowly missed her internal organs; had it been a hair's width closer, she’d be in a lot worse condition than she found herself in.

Ghost was mortified, she could have died. She could have died and the last conversation they would have had would have been him yelling at her for something he wasn’t even actually mad about.

He sat at her bedside, mask rested on the table beside him. He didn’t want the mask to be the first thing she saw when she woke up; he figured that it would scare her, and he’d antagonized her enough for one day.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. His thumb rubbed over the knuckles on her limp hand. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

Simon tilted his head towards the ceiling, blinking away tears. “It’s just… I can’t lose you, (Y/N). I know- I know you are more capable than anyone else at your job. Hell, I’ve seen it, seen how good you are at what you do. But, (Y/N), I love you, and I dread the day that someone gets the upper hand on you and you get hurt and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.”

He stopped his monologue the moment he felt her hand squeeze his back. His eyes shot down to see hers blinking up at him.

“Good thing that won’t happen,” she rasped. She parted her hand from his only so that she could reach for his face. “Where’d your other face go?”

“My other face?” He snorted, holding her hand to his cheek.

“Your skull.”

“Oh.” He said, glancing towards the mask on the table. “Didn’t want to frighten you.”

“It’s gonna take a lot more than that to scare me, Lieutenant.”

Simon shook his head, half disappointed that she hadn’t seemed to have heard his confession, half relieved.

“Oh and Lt.?”

He perked up to her calling him, “Yeah?”

She sat up ever so slightly before pulling him towards her in one swift movement, pressing their lips together. He was shocked by her actions but caught on quickly, kissing back with double the amount of passion she kissed him with. Her hands found themselves interlocked behind his neck while his came to clasp around her waist.

As they parted— hands still glued to the spots on either body that they held onto with a death grip— a spit trail kept them connected.

“Gross.” (Y/N) laughed, triggering Simon to laugh as well.

She stopped laughing to stare into his eyes, the ones that gleamed with love for her. “In case you couldn’t tell,” she started, “I love you too.”

[seaadc]

sshshshshsh heyhey could i have some uhh aqua hoshino x streamer!reader

I feel like such a genius for thinking about this my third eye has been opened

status | aqua hoshino x streamer!fem!reader

a/n: THIS IS SUCH A UNIQUE REQUEST??!!!??? THANK U SM ANON!!

summary: aqua being madly infatuated with you ever since he had saw you streaming.

- “If the world was against us, then I’m against the world.”

You are definitely in for a treat, definitely.

Before Aqua had met you, he was not that quite.. expressive? He had a cold demeanor, You can call him stern, but not too quite.

When Aqua was silently working on the little short trailer of a video that the team he was working with in “Love now” was gonna post, He came across you in the internet.

You were streaming in youtube, Your hair looked good and it looks recently brushed. You were talking to your fans since you were popular— heck, you even knew Mem-cho! You were slightly more popular than her which caused you to have a lot of viewers.

The girl was talking about her life and desires, how she’d want to be an idol someday. Aqua narrowed his eyes at the screen, staring deep into your galactic eyes.. How mesmerizing. He wouldn’t admit that

You were acting all so bubbly and giddy, showing your viewers some stuff in your room. And, to be honest, Aqua enjoyed watching you. Or was he just tired? He was tired from editing the short clip, he just laid his head down the table and using his arms as support while he looked at the laptop, gazing into your eyes that wasn’t even staring into his own.

He then sighed and closed the laptop, standing up while he went outside to grab the juice Yuki was going to gave him.

Aqua went out, Mem-cho went inside and opened the laptop, checking if the video had gotten more popular but she was greeted by a familiar face.

“Oh! It’s [Name]!” The blondie muttered to herself, wondering what was the tab doing in the laptop.

“Huh.. Aqua left the room last.”

Aqua decided to take a stroll outside the building, not too far but not too near. He was walking down the sidewalks when he felt like he should get a snack. He went to the nearest store and went inside, the bell on top of the door ringing.

Aqua sighed to himself and grabbed some chips, To his surprise there was a girl next to him.

She looked up at the shelf and grabbed the same chips Aqua had got but a different flavor, The girl smiled brightly to herself and adjusted her cap.

Aqua looked at her, He was 2 inches taller than her if he could presume.. She looked oddly familiar.

“Miss… Uh.. Have I seen you somewhere?” Aqua asked softly, his eyes narrowing at the girl’s cap which was colored white.

The girl looked up at him, Aqua widening his eyes at the realization it was the streamer had come across earlier.

“Well that’s interesting. People can still recognize me?” You mumbled, sighing in disbelief while you headed over at the cashier and placed your chips down at the counter.

Aqua hummed and followed, right behind you while he waited in line. It was awkward.. The only sound you could hear was the cashier’s machine clacking and doing such beeps.

The girl turned and looked at Aqua, smiling warmly. “[Name], At your service.” She introduced, and left while the bell rang.

Aqua stared off into the door, following your figure until it has dissipated. He looked down at the chips and put it down the counter.. Somehow, He felt.. attached. He couldn’t explain why, It was definitely not the universe playing tricks on both of you… right?

Ever since Aqua met you in real life, He couldn’t stop. As in, He couldn’t stop checking your profile everyday to see if you have a new video or stream. Truth be told, He watched every single video you had made and streams. Even if they were past streams, He still persevered to watch it.

Aqua felt comfortable and satisfied whenever he would rewatch a video of yours when you won’t post due to lack of motivation, but he would always check. Everyday, Everynight.

One day as you set up your computer, You thought of the fair blonde guy you met at the shop. You smiled at the thought, knowing it was the same guy you supported in the show “Love now” and the upcoming Tokyo Revenger live action.

You started streaming and viewers rushed in the stream, waiting for other viewers to arrive while a certain username joined.

“AquaHoshino… Are you a fan or the guy himself?” You chuckled, the viewers commenting of how cute and adorable your smile is while the user you had mentioned didn’t reply.

Meanwhile, through the other screen, Aqua couldn’t contain himself when his tongue slipped out of your mouth. He kept staring at your face, He didn’t know why, but the word that fits to what he kept on doing for the past few months was definitely ‘Infatuation’.

Considering he was a doctor before, ‘course he knew what this thing was. But it took him quite a long time to accept that he was inlove with you. A streamer who makes money off it.

Aqua just entered Strawberry Productions since Miyako called for him, only to find out that you, yes you, had signed a contract. Turns out Mem-cho had invited you and both of you were conversing with eachother on the green couch.

Miyako smiled and walked up to Aqua. “We have a new member.” She spoke with a soothing voice. Aqua flinched when he saw you, You both held eye contact until you smiled.

Oh shit, That was the best thing he ever saw. (except Ai’s smile) His heart melted, feeling it race like a sports car. Aqua cleared his throat and turned away, trying to hide the redness creeping up to his face while Mem-cho merely giggled. “Your so charismatic, [Name]-chan.” Mem-cho teased to which Aqua sighed at, He left the area to not get embarrassed any further and went to his room, leaving a very confused [Name]. and he would probably sabotage things a bit because he doesnt want you to be an idol, being a streamer is already making you tired and he doesn’t want that.

And since then, You would always talk to him with the most giddy-est personality ever. He would reply in short answers but he enjoyed your company, he wasn’t going to say that straightforwardly to you but might as well include it.

He would enjoy the peaceful silence you both shared in benches, school cafeterias, living rooms, and so many more places!

Aqua would probably be clingy to you in private, He isn’t a fan of PDA but he would gladly let you if you would do the first move or if he’s.. ehem.. jealous.

He once saw you conversing too much with a male employee at the cinema counter since you asked to join him in the mall which he couldn’t decline at. Only to find out another person was going to spend all your time with him.

Aqua approached with the popcorn he had bought and gave one to you, glaring at the employee. You thanked him while he simply nodded.

He took your hand and intertwined it with his, which made your heart pounding like some sort of wildebeest in a stampede.

And you both enjoyed that day.

bonus:

Aqua had confessed, inside the store you both first met. The cashier looked very amused while imaginary stars appeared beside her.

“W-what..?“ You stuttered, blushing a pink hue at the sudden confession Aqua had made, since he just kind of.. said that so fast.

Aqua sighed with the tip of his ears were flaming red while his cheeks were red too. “I’m not repeating that.” He blurted out, looking away while he kept a blank expression though the color of his cheeks say otherwise.

Being his girlfriend made you realize how hard is life is, how he would risk anything just to get justice for his mother. Which he told you after a few not a few months of dating. He got comfortable around you and you would always be there to comfort him during his nightmares, And he would always be there for you whenever you get a hate comment that gets you really insecure.

To be honest, You would probably wake up one day and getting the news of the person who kept on hating on you suddenly so quiet… I wonder what your lovely red flag boyfriend did.

[imababblekat]

A Rare Sight

Prompt: A silence has befallen the ninja turtle lair, and three brothers catch an unthinkable sight of their rugged sibling, Raphael!

~xXx~

Not a voice or sound of clanging weapons resounded within the lair, just the soft hum of technology echoing from an unoccupied lab and the whir of the sewers. In such strange quietness, the youngest of the ninja turtles who had just recently returned with a new box of pizza looked around inquisitively. Seeing two of his three brothers, Leo and Donnie, standing over the other behind one of the lair walls, he quickly walked over. “Hey! What are-mumph!” Mikey was quickly silence by two hands slapping over his mouth followed by aggressive shushing. Both brothers slowly lowered their hands, Mikey doing his best to talk in a quieted tone. “I know I’m the life of the party, but why are y’all being so quiet?!” Leo pointed toward his eyes and then out around the corner to where Donnie had returned his own intense gaze. Setting down the box of triple meat and cheese pizza on a nearby rail, Mikey crept forward and shoved himself under Leo who grunted slightly annoyed. It took all of the orange clad ninja turtle to keep himself from squealing at the sight that had his brothers so intrigued. In the common area of the lair, beneath the glow of warm fairy lights, sat Raphael and you huddled close together on the couch. Both were fast asleep, a stark contrast to how Mikey had seen you two before leaving to get pizza, each one in a loud banter about who was the best DC hero and why. The way you two were so close was absolutely adorable, your head rested on Raph’s shoulder, and the fierce turtles head rested atop yours. The boys were used to the serenity of your sleeping state, but to see their brother whose color matched his typical rage of character in such similarity was absolutely baffling. Not to mention the fact that he had even fallen asleep so close to another person! Raphael was not exactly known for outwardly expressing his closeness to others, that including his own brothers. “How long have they been like that?!”, Mikey all but excitedly shrieked, both his brothers shushing him once more. Turning his attention back to the two most likely unintentional snuggle bugs on the sofa, Donnie’s nose scrunched in thought. “Could not be for long. I stepped into the lab only a few minutes after you left, and I could still hear them arguing over the recent DC movies.”, he whispered out, much quieter than his ecstatic brother. Mikey sighed, resting his chin on a propped elbow and seemingly kicking back his feet like a high schooler in the mist of day dreaming. “Dudes, I bet they’re item. Yeah, they’re totally an item~.” Above the swooning turtle, Leo shook his head, the tails of his mask swaying ever so lightly. “I doubt it. Just last week I saw (y,n) adjust his bench seat to get back at him for mocking her height again. Raph couldn’t even squeeze his big head into the space between the seat and bar.” Before any of the trio could make another comment, a noise from the center of the room had them freeze in place. As soon as they realized it was just you yawning in your sleep, they had relaxed. Curious gazes watched as you shuffled in place, snuggling in closer to the outwardly brutish ninja turtle, who turn had adjusted as well for closer proximity. Seeing Raph be so soft with your smaller form as it cuddled closer into his side, was not a sight any of the brothers thought they’d witness. Even in his sleep, Raphael seemed know to be gentle with you beside him, and despite the foreign feeling of having someone so physically close, his subconscious had clearly wanted it. Regardless, the scene of seeing their typically short fused brother so at peace in the arms of someone they all held dear brought a warmth to their hearts. Knowing that someone as strong headed as Raph, someone who often threw up a tough guy front to hide the softness deep within, found and got to experience such a wonderous moment, was all that they could wish for. With a content smile for his the brother he often butted heads with, Leo stepped back from spot against the wall. “Come on. Let’s give them some-“ CLICK! The eyes of Leo and Donnie shot open in pure surprise and horror when they snapped their sharp gaze towards the loud noise, only to find Mikey holding a camera he seemingly pulled out of thin air. Cheeks heating up in embarrassment at not realizing how loud the device would be, Mikey awkwardly chuckled. “What, they’re sleeping! There’s no way they heard right? Right?!” As if to answer the mischievous youngsters question, a groggy and familiarly angry tone reverberated off the lairs wall. “MIKEY!!!” Said turtle yelped and turned to find his two other brothers having fled with haste, leaving him to deal with the furious approaching sounds of a now awakened Raphael, all the while you sat in the background still half asleep and very confused about all the kerfuffle.

~xXx~

[anglingforlevels]

Open House (Yandere House x Reader)

When people say the housing market is a nightmare, is this what they had in mind? (The story goes out to me because I’m trying to get an apartment and it is Suffering. Please pretend this count as yandere.)

CW: not proofread, unconventional captivity, swearing, I accidentally had too much fun writing Abby and forgot the point of the story-

Minors DNI

When you proudly had reached the saving milestone to buy a small house in the countryside, you had opted to spend some of that money on a real estate agent, figuring it was a good investment, hiring a Ms. Abby Bardot – who, over the phone, had insisted heavily on being called Abby rather than Ms. Bardot – who had twenty years of experience in the field.

Quite quickly, you realized that perhaps she wasn’t the most conventional real estate agent.

Ms. Abby, you quickly noticed at your first meeting, was all hand-wringing and nervous sweating, though she seemed sweet enough, having clutched a tin of home-cooked cookies in all shades of black and almost-not-black, and had heartily insisted you’d take as many as you’d like (which was zero).

She had insisted on bringing you to an open house for what she had called a hidden gem of a house, that it would be a private tour. To you, once she mentioned it would be at 1 p.m., it was quite obvious that “private tour” meant, “no one else has or will be showing up”.

Ms. Abby had also enthusiastically shown pictures of the place, pictures she had ready-at-the-go on her phone, presumably she really needed a buyer for the house.

“Ms. Abby.” You had said, interrupted with a small interjection of, Oh please, just Abby. “Ms. Abby, that’s not quite a house and more so a small manor. I went over my budget with you when I hired you.” Ms. Abby had quickly recovered from the rejection and puffed out her chest proudly.

“Why that’s the best part, this is within your budget!”

You had sent her a dubious look at this. “Are the pictures… How do I put this delicately? Are the pictures recent and unedited?”

Ms. Abby deflated so quickly that it almost felt impressive, almost urging you to clap as if it was a circus performance. Of course, it felt mean had you clapped at her dejected look.

“It’s well-kept, I assure you. These pictures are all recent, I’ve updated them every year for almost my entire career!” She said proudly, and you almost felt pity at the fact she didn’t seem to realize her own slip-up but instead paraded it around like a badge of honor.

Though, all-in-all you were charmed, and somewhat endeared, by the honesty. But not very much by the house at all. “I think I’d like to look at other options, it’s awfully big for just one person.”

“Ah, wait!” Ms. Abby said urgently. “Please, before we continue with other options, let’s first try out the open house this Friday.”

“Is this protocol, Ms. Abby?” Ms. Abby’s lips wobbled at this and… “Are you crying?!”

“No, I’m a professional. Real Estate Agents don’t cry, I’m simply sweating, is all.” Ms. Abby sniffled, dubbing her eyes with a handkerchief, presumably you were meant to believe her eyes were suffering heat stroke on this fine autumn day.

“…Alright, I’ll go to the open house. Just give me the address.” You eventually relented, if only to avoid seeing the pitiful sight of a teary-eyed Ms. Abby.

That’s how you ended up before a grand house out in the middle of nowhere, the closest town was an hour-long drive away. Forest and fields were most of the surroundings, which was why the house was in such stark contrast, standing as a sole presence, the forests and fields shying away to make room for it, leaving a vast vacancy around it, stretching on for at least fifty meters.

It really was a pristine house, when comparing it to the pictures, it seemed to match right down to the placement of every rock and plant in sight. As if someone had consciously placed each leaf and pebble.

The plants and trees of the garden donned vibrant colors despite the season. You wondered how often Ms. Abby came by, or if she had hired a crew for maintenance, as you could not spot even the slightest hint of dirt or spiderwebs.

The only thing that looked aged was, unfortunately, the “For Sale” sign.

It felt a little unnatural, but you chalked it up to currently being a display house, and thus not lived-in either. You took notice of the way the trees beyond the reach of the garden were withered and wrinkled, and the grass yellowy, dry patches, barely hiding the dirt beneath.

“Some more forest could really do this place some good.” You mumbled. You hesitated for reasons you didn’t fully understand before stepping beyond dead plants clinging loosely to your feet and entering the garden.

You felt a prickling sensation behind your eyes the further you traveled, the door felt so far when the weight of something cloyingly attentive seemed to drag you down as if to prevent your advances.

“You’re here!” A delighted Ms. Abby yelled out before the sound of pitter-patter was interrupted by a loud thud against the door that rattled the frame. With her energy dampened, a sheepish Ms. Abby appeared behind the front door, simply saying; “It opens the other way.”

Right, something attentive could only have been the attention of the overzealous Ms. Abby.

“Come in, come in!” She invited, all but pulling you stumbling into a most decadently, lavishly decorated foyer. From distasteful stuffed animal heads to the ruby red furniture and mosaic glass tables, it felt quite uncomfortable, all sharp angles and very little homeliness to it, like an ornate display of wealth rather than a welcome into a household.

“Not very welcoming, huh?” You commented, which Ms. Abby elected not to respond to, though the small “eep” suggested she had heard the negative impression.

Looking the room over it was impossible for your eyes not to rest at the centerpiece of the foyer: A huge painting above the staircase. A solemn-looking guy stared out into the air, curly locks framing his face. Old paintings always looked miserable, yet you couldn’t help but feel there was a glint of genuine misery in his eyes. Noticing your attention had wandered, Ms. Abby followed your eyes.

“Oh, that was an owner of the house who had it commissioned back during the Renaissance, they wanted it right here, in the heart of the house.” She explained though you couldn’t say you agreed to a decadent foyer being the heart of a house, and if it was, that wasn’t boding well for Ms. Abby’s already poor sales chances.

“I’ve never understood why someone would want to pay money to look miserable in a painting, like you’re paying for it, at least make yourself smile or something.” Your jab was met with Ms. Abby’s impressive ability to carry on like you had said nothing negative at all.

“You know, the owner claimed it was a Jan van Eyck-original too.” Ms. Abby said as if letting you in on a secret, or town gossip. “Really, we’ve had it appraised.”

“And the appraiser confirmed it was a Jan van-whatever original?”

“…The owner really loved art; you’ll see plenty of paintings throughout the place.”

So that was a no. And speaking of no’s:

“Listen, Ms. Abby, I don’t exactly have the budget for a big house, as I already said. I especially don’t have the kind of budget that the kind of person who’d commission an artist to paint them for their foyer would have.”

Abby laughed nervously. “Well, you see, the value’s dropped as I mentioned. We haven’t been able to sell it for a long time, so the price just kept falling.”

“Right. But even so, it can’t have fallen that much.”

At this, Abby avoided eye contact, wringing her hands before, after a big breath, blurting it out. “The person in the painting was the last person to own the house.”

…

“Is this place built on top of an oilfield or something?”

Ms. Abby laughed a hearty if a bit shrill, laughter, before sighing and mumbling. “If only.” She clapped. “But! This is a charming house, why, let me show you the many rooms!”

“Ms. Abby, have you ever considered a field outside of sale?” You asked dryly but nonetheless followed along, eager to leave behind the painting, as you felt watched. The house consisted of many sprawling hallways, enough to almost make one dizzy, and you struggled to remember where everything was.

The house had many rooms, none of them particularly inviting, reading more like a historical display room lacking any warmth or heart (and perhaps even worse, any semblance of renovation despite old age), and all absolutely clustered with trinkets, knickknacks, and in the case of the walls, paintings – leaving very little free space.

It really did read like a historical display, as some rooms seemed older than others, suggesting partial renovation must have been done on some of the rooms. You’d like a word with whoever had been in charge of that lackluster, nonsensical effort.

Perhaps the lack of replaced furniture or renovation was why the house periodically seemed to creak and moan in odd ways, at times you almost confused it as Ms. Abby groaning or sighing, only to realize it was the sound of the house itself.

As for Ms. Abby, she remained undeterred regardless of how many snide remarks you made, which you had to commend her for, though the charm you initially had felt from it was quickly wearing off. Ms. Abby actually seemed increasingly happy, humming to herself. She didn’t think the sale was going well, did she?

“How much of the house is there left to see, Ms. Abby?” You asked, increasingly impatient and tired, having been dragged through an unreasonable number of rooms, which inexplicably, almost all were bedrooms (and yet, you had yet to see more than a single bathroom).

“Well, we’re still missing a couple rooms like the kitchen, oh! I know, how about the master bedroom since you’ll be spending every night there.” She said with a beaming smile.

“That’s awfully optimistic, Ms. Abby.” You noted, at this you received a good-hearted chuckle.

“Oh, this place is too lovely to pass up on, I think it likes you – it’s a match made in heaven. If you don’t like some of the features or decorations, it’s easy to change those, so it would be a waste not to live here.”

“I can’t imagine a house as empty as this holding much affection, and I’m not up for a big project.” All you wanted was a small but cozy house, a simple place. You felt exhausted just thinking about the amount of work you’d need to pour into a house like this to make it feel like home.

“Well, it’s perhaps not an easy house,” Ms. Abby admitted, her cheer at this point an unshakeable force, as a sense of confidence seemed to have sprouted in her. “But that’s why when that rare fit comes by one must take the leap and hold onto it.”

You’d feel insulted by the suggestion you were a good fit for this distasteful and unpleasant house, had Ms. Abby not already shown herself as incompetent but well-meaning. You simply sighed, giving up the conversation, figuring you’d find another real estate agent when you came home.

“Well, take me to the master bedroom then.”

Ms. Abby led you through the foyer again, the bedroom apparently at the other end of the house. Your eyes were drawn to the painting once more, its eyes felt more sunken in than before, shadows forming beneath, to which you tiredly sighed. “Me too, buddy. Me too.”

The master bedroom seemed to be at the stopping point to the sprawling hallways on the right. You were just aghast at the fact you had gone through another set of sprawling hallways, you wondered who had come up with the confusing layout of the place.

Ms. Abby tried to imitate a trumpet to build up suspense but trailed off after you shot her an impatient look. After a weak cough, she simply said “Tadaah” and opened the door.

You stopped up, your right foot hanging in the air, about to cross into the room. A sense of foreboding filled you; it was a bit different from the first time, however. The prickling sensation you felt and the cloying attention, it felt smothering, less like a shove away and more like… Being held in place.

Ms. Abby waited patiently inside the room, not commenting on your hesitation, though you had been snarky and displeased the entire tour, so perhaps this just seemed like more of that. You swallowed and ignored the pressure as you put your foot down and entered the room.

The air felt different here. You had hoped the odd sensation would disappear if you just carried on, like when you entered the house, to begin with, instead, it worsened. The air clung to you, terribly heavy and sticky. It took you a moment to actually focus enough to realize Ms. Abby had spoken, so when you finally snapped back to reality, Ms. Abby was standing in the hallway.

“-tively spellbound already. I’ll give you some time to look around and get acquainted together, one-on-one.” And then she closed the door in your face. The room was, oddly empty, compared to every other room. Nothing but a big, red bed, the empty walls that you could’ve sworn were further away when you entered, and that feeling of being watched, lodging into your skin like stitching.

Nothing except an almost empty room that didn’t feel empty enough.

That’s it. Ms. Abby had officially used up all her pity points, you were leaving. You opened the door, a tad more aggressively than what was perhaps called for, but Ms. Abby was nowhere to be seen in the hallway.

For how annoyed you were with her at this point, you found that you missed her company as you walked down the hallway, nothing distracting you from the odd sounds of the house that seemed to have increased. It felt as if the floor beneath your feet moved and rumbled slightly, the velvety carpets uneven and bumpy, as if walking on something breathing, something living.

You wished that Ms. Abby had given you the floor plans, as you struggled to remember how to return to the foyer through the hallways and occasional rooms you had to cross seemed to hold no real rhythm and didn’t feel as if it obeyed any rules about directions.

At one point you could have sworn you turned back, only to be in another room than where you had emerged from originally. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you found the foyer again. Even in your rush to find the door, your eyes were drawn to the painting, though you continued to rush by it. In your haste, it almost looked as if the painting’s colors were smudged.

You attempted to open the door but found it didn’t budge. It was an odd choice to lock the door, but you were certain that was the reason, it had to be. A locked door was no issue from the inside, but even after hearing the click of the lock, the door didn’t budge when you attempted to open it.

You attempted to kick, pry, tear, and even throw your body weight at the door, but with no luck.

Settling in the foyer after your final attempt at prying the front door open, you huffed, out of breath. You laid on the stairs, trying to settle your heart and pulse, when your eyes landed on the painting again.

…You rubbed your eyes and sat up, thinking what you had seen was owed to your tiredness and the upside-down angle, but no. The painting really did look smudged. Like someone had blurred colors and borders together, the hair’s vibrant color having lost its radiance.

And the mouth, it was oddly smudged between the lips, that it almost gave the impression of a mouth being pried open.

…

No, that was silly, you were being silly. The painting was smudged out, which was already creepy enough on its own, or rather, the house was already creepy enough on its own – your mind was just working overtime and was making up new things to get scared over.

“Well brain, if you like overtime, I guess I’ll have to put you to use and think of an escape. But you don’t have a union, so it’s unpaid hours for you, I’m afraid.”

If the front door was a bust, then you’d find a window. You struggled to recall any windows on the ground floor, but surely there had to be some. Or… That’s right! The kitchen, it had a glass door. You never got around to seeing the kitchen, having mainly been shown the upstairs so far, but you recalled Ms. Abby mentioning it back when she had given her pitch for why you should show up.

You hadn’t been on the left side of the house, at least not on the ground floor, so you figured that was a good direction to begin, in your search for the kitchen. You opened the door, urgency in your steps, only to find you weren’t in an unfamiliar room.

Instead, you were back in the empty master bedroom, which somehow felt much more crammed than any of the other rooms. But… That didn’t make sense. The master bedroom was upstairs, you had fought through a confusing hallway to find the foyer, so this… this didn’t make sense at all.

The air felt oppressive in the room as if your heart would be forced to a halt from the sheer weight of it, like a physical presence. This time you were sure that the walls were closer than they had been before. A bed table had been added next to the bed, and the part of you still delusional enough to hope thought maybe it meant that Ms. Abby was still around. As if this was an elaborate prank.

You tried to swallow despite how dry your mouth felt, your heart hammering painfully against your chest. This was ridiculous. You slammed the door open again, the door shaking on its hinges. Beyond the door, it revealed a hallway, but even if the hallway was confusing, you had been through it twice by now, you could do this, you could find the kitchen or a ground-floor window.

Hurrying along the hallway, it felt as if the floor and walls shifted and moved. Were you dizzy, or was this actually happening? The restrictive air of the master bedroom followed you, as you dragged yourself through.

“Huh?” you furrowed your eyebrows when you opened one of the doors. You were sure this was the one you had gone through before, but the room behind was unfamiliar. Cold dread filled you as a horrible thought crossed your mind.

No, no, no. You ran to the next door but behind it was another unfamiliar room. Were the layout… Changing? Your hand trembled as you tried to open a third door, and you felt like crying when all it revealed was the master bedroom again.

A lamp now stood on top of the bed table. Were new things going to be added each time you returned to the room? You thought back to the cramped bedrooms Ms. Abby had so cheerfully shown off. You weren’t sure what to make of it but felt sick all the same.

“I don’t have time for this.” You had to snap yourself out of it. You could spiral and panic later, but for now, you needed to get out. So, turning on your heel, you returned to the hallway. You’d go through each door that didn’t lead to the master bedroom, hoping to somehow find your way downstairs.

You almost cheered audibly when you finally saw the staircase, rushing to it. Once again, as you passed it, your eyes were drawn to the painting.

The painting no longer looked the same as before, the person it had been long erased by smudged and changing lines. You couldn’t tell what it was changing into but felt your heart race with familiarity all the same.

The mouth was a gaping hole by now, outstretched awkwardly. You thought it might have been a smile, but it looked much more like a pained grimace to you.

You only took this as further encouragement to get out of there.

When you failed to find anything of use, you realized there was one room that you seemed to always find. So, as counterintuitive as it seemed, you walked upstairs again, and as confusing as the changing layout was, it didn’t take you long to find it.

You saw the familiar bed, the bed table, the lamp, and the newly added clock on the wall (which didn’t seem to be working) and closed your eyes for a moment. You took a deep breath. And then you decisively walked in to grab the lamp, shivering a bit as you brushed against a much-too-warm wall.

If you couldn’t find the kitchen or a window on the ground floor, then fuck it, you’d find one up here. Whatever broken bones or bruises you’d get from the fall, you’d accept. Finding a window upstairs proved much more doable, as one would line the walls every now and then.

You threw the lamp against the window and braced yourself for impact.

But nothing happened.

The lamp fell to the floor with a hollow thud. When you opened your eyes, you found not a single scratch on the window. So, you tried again. And again. You tried punching the window, earning nothing but a stinging fist.

Yet you continued. At some point, it became more of a tantrum, an expression of your desperation colored in violence, than an attempt to escape. Hitting the window, kicking the wall. “Why-“ you hated this house. You hated it. Hated, hated, hated it. You just wanted to leave. Your ears rang, whether it was from your headache, or the way the house’s groans and creaks had grown in severity, you didn’t know, didn’t care, couldn’t care.

Already unsteady on your feet, your final kick caused you to lose balance entirely.

Stumbling and falling onto the floor, without realizing it, you found yourself by the stairs, and face to face with the painting. Your blood ran cold as you stared into your own lifeless eyes staring down at you from above.

 

Quiet had fallen over the house like a blanket, only the slow rumble throughout the house bellied any activity. In the heart of the house rested a painting, donning a toothy smile and a certain glint in their eyes.

A satisfied Ms. Abby removed the “For Sale” sign out front and drove away with a hum.

[sleepytoycollection]

Barbie Dream Besties "Brooklyn": A review

Barbie Dream Besties is a newly released doll line by Mattel, and is a spin off of their main Barbie line. Looks wise, they seem to be a spiritual successor to My Scene, Ever After high, and the more recent Barbie Extra/Barbie Extra Minis. Also trying desperately to compete with LOL and Rainbow High.

They are $20 USD each retail.

I was interested in these for three reasons: 1) I liked Ever After High and My Scene. 2) They have much more quality outfits than I tend to see from modern Barbie. 3) @queenofsquids enjoyment of them made me hopeful I'd like them too.

So do I? Let's find out.

I choose the character Brooklyn as I like her face up the best.

Her packaging is the standard plastic clam shell that seems to be all over the doll aisle anymore. I can't say I love it. I miss the cardboard boxes, so much easier to open and so much less plastic.

This box isn't super great aesthetically either. There's a lot going on in the service of nothing.

Which is a shame, because I do really like the actual character art on the box. It's super cute and matches the dolls really well. It would pop even better if the rest of the box was a smidge simpler. Sometimes less is more.

The back of the box.

We get more of this delightful artwork, showing of the full set of characters available at the moment.

We also get a short character bio for Brooklyn. She wants to be a choreographer, loves making dance routines, video editing, and creative writing. Despite her favorite color being listed as pink, she has no pink in her outfit and only one pink accessory.

Here is the box without the cover. This is what I meant when I said the box design was doing a lot for nothing. Over packaging isn't just a problem with Mattel dolls of course, MGA is arguably worse, but it's still frustrating.

Brooklyn herself is very pretty though. I tried very hard to pick one without a wonky face, but the way she's posed makes it very hard to tell.

I think one of her eyes is slightly bigger than the other. It's not enough to bother me at least. That said, so many of these were VERY wonky at the store. I would not buy these online unless you can see the specific doll you're getting. The QC is all over the place.

Here are all the accessories she comes with.

I do appreciate that all her accessories tie into her interests and character. That said, these are hit and miss.

The purse is nice, and does open.

The dog is okay, but I don't really care for these types of doll pets. It looks more like an in-universe toy than what's supposed to be an animal.

I initially liked that the phone and case were separate, until I tried to put the phone in the case and it didn't fit. It will not go in there. If I force it in, it just pops right back out.

It's a shame because I liked the 80's Barbie logo case, but without the phone in it, it looks weird when the doll is holding it.

At least the phone fits into the ring light stand.

May I also say some of these accessories feel really flimsy? The phone and Ipad are VERY thin plastic.

The boom box in hollow and unpainted.

I wish instead of having seven mid accessories we could've had two or three really good ones. Or nixed all of them and given her a stand. The doll herself is nice enough to deserve a stand I think.

Let's look at Brooklyn. She's pretty darn cute. She stands at the standard 11", and has saran hair with tinsel.

Her outfit isn't my favorite though. Mattel stop giving your dolls ugly fur sleeved varsity jackets challenge. This could've been so cute as just a regular varsity jacket.

Despite being ugly, the jacket is made pretty well. Though a button was already falling off mine. That poor QC strikes again.

Though I suppose it's moot as I doubt I'll ever put this jacket back on her ever again.

Now that she's free of that ugly thing, you can see how nice the rest of her outfit is. I didn't realize how much I missed dolls getting to wear neutrals until I saw her plain denim skirt and white tank top.

It's simple, but she's dressed like a real person. Plus, I can easily pair these pieces with a lot of other outfits. Doll wardrobes need pieces like this for mixing and matching.

Body wise she's a bit smaller than Barbie, and her feet are a little bit larger. This body reminds me a lot of the current bodies for the Disney Princess line now that Mattel has it back, though those have larger feet. If I can find the one I have, I'll do a body comparison to those later.

Her sculpt in three views. The Ever After High comparisons are very apt, though the screening itself is more reminiscent of My Scene mixed with a little bit of G3 Monster High.

For comparison, here's an actual EAH doll next to her. Brooklyn's head is just a smidge larger, but balanced out better with larger eyes, thicker brows, and bigger lips.

After this, I got Brooklyn redressed with just a few changes...

I replaced her jacket with this vintage Barbie and the Rockers one, added a necklace, and hey! Now she gets to wear her favorite color.

Final thoughts?

It's a good doll, but the quality control issues, on top of the same BS Mattel throws on all of it's dolls anymore, is dragging it down.

The fact you have to look through every single one of the shelf to make sure you're not getting a crappy one is exhausting. Plus, kids don't do that. They're going to get home with their new doll and then realize as they open it something's wrong. Kids don't deserve that.

The accessories are mostly cheap and not special enough to justify their existence. The purse, phone with case, and ring light would've been enough if they were made a bit better.

The outfit is well made, and a huge improvement over what I see in the main Barbie line, even if I don't like all the design choices, but again, that's if you get one without QC issues.

The doll herself is super cute though, and screw it, I like the tinsel. Fight me.

Overall I really love this doll, I just wish picking one out wasn't a hassle. Hell, I even bought a second one already.

I got inspired enough I wanted to repaint one, so I purposely bought this wonky Renee because she had the worst face up out of everyone at the store.

So I think there's definitely potential here. If this line continues, I hope they can improve the way G3 Monster High has improved from it's first wave.

I hope this can be the start of Mattel revitalizing it's Barbie line as well. It needs it. See ya next time.

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Hello there! 👋🏽 If you don’t mind, I was wondering if I could make a request with Tech? With maybe a bookworm reader if that’s okay? I feel like it would be a cute dynamic! Thank you and have a good day! 🙏🙌

Bookworm

Tech x Reader

Summary- You and Tech have a moment alone on The Marauder. What better way to spend it than reading! Accompanied by Tech on his datapad, of course.

A/N- It's totally okay!!! I figured the best format for this kind of request was bullet point- but I am not very good at those. So, i compromised with this! Hope you enjoy, thanks for requesting!

Word Count- 990

Hunter, Omega, Wrecker, and Echo had all left the ship to go look for some dinner. A job you all completed recently left you with some spending money. You figured everyone deserved a real meal for once.

It left you and Tech alone in The Marauder. You could have easily went to hang out at Cid's bar, but you couldn't stand to be around her. You hated the way she poked fun at Tech's goggles.

Only you were allowed to call him 'goggles.'

The thought only temporarily distracted you from your book. You quickly resumed reading, only to realize you had to restart the whole page. This time actually process what you're reading! You thought to yourself.

Grumbling, you squeezed your eyes shut and straightened up in your seat. You happened to take a spot in the co-pilots chair. Tech always sat in the pilots.

"Something the matter?" Tech asks, not looking up from his datapad.

It was sweet, that he noticed your small movements. "Just trying to focus, I lost my place." You finally found a comfortable position, situating your book back in your hands.

"It can help to fidget with one hand, to increase your chances of focus." He informed, per usual.

You smiled up at him, he glanced up from the pad when he felt your gaze on him. He flashed a very brief smile- more of a grin, it was all you needed though.

You listened to him rant about his findings on 'focus' for a few minutes, knowing anyone else would have shut him up by now. Him talking never bored you or made you uncomfortable, despite many others complaining.

"Thank you, Tech." You simply said, returning to your book. He seemed pleased enough and went back to tinkering on his datapad.

A newfound silence came over, you read your book in peace. The story of the thieves with powers fighting the government amused you. What amused you more was the fact you had personally been on more dangerous missions, yet the book still captured you.

It was nice to imagine yourself in their place, even when you wouldn't change what you have for the word.

You'd go on a million death defying missions if it meant you were with Tech.

While you typically could put down over 50 pages in an hour, Tech interrupted you again. Not with any other intentions than to please you.

"Yes?" You responded after he called your name.

He reached in a compartment to the left of the console. A place Tech used to store his latest experiments.

He pulled out a neatly wrapped gift. It had swirls of color on the paper that wrapped it. He said nothing, just handed the rectangular item to you.

"For me?"

"That would be correct."

You tried to fight the corners of your mouth rising, but it was no use. Tech watched you violently, showing little expression.

You gently took the paper off, not wanting to make a mess of his careful work.

You slowly revealed it to be a new book, the fourth book in the series to the one you were just reading.

"Tech, I- I thought it was a limited edition! There was only a hundred made across the galaxy!" You looked in his deep brown eyes.

"Yes, it is." He confirmed.

"H-how did you get it!" You were baffled, the thought he put into your gift- and for no special occasion.

"It was not difficult. I was able to track all the shipping numbers to their respective planets, and when we had a mission on one- I located the book through its buyers." He said, nonchalantly. Like he didn't easily buy one of the most rare books you knew of.

"Why? Did I miss an anniversary?" You were slightly confused on why he gave you the gift. You hoped you weren't supposed to also have a gift prepared.

"Uh, no. You mentioned exactly 129 rotations ago that you wanted the book. I saw no problem in getting it." He remembered...

You were moved to small tears, now flowing down your cheeks.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yes, Tech. Of course I am." You rose to your feet, throwing yourself on him in a big hug. He hugged you back. While he didn't completely understand your acclimation to physical affection- he didn't mind you doing as you pleased to him.

He gently patted your back, and you pulled away. "Thank you, i'm going to have to finish this book quickly now. I can't wait to read it..."

"You are welcome." He responded, you let him be and lifted yourself off of him. He grabbed his datapad and clicked away.

What you didn't know was that sometimes Tech would watch you read. In times like these, when you found yourself sitting or laying next to each other. You reading, him on his datapad.

He would study your face, taking in every expression. He would think about what you were reading- was it sad, happy, thrilling? Feelings were a trivial matter to him, but he was always thinking of ways to make you happy.

He loved it when you read, sometimes out loud to him. It was soothing to hear your voice when he worked on a project or was fixing a part on The Marauder.

The way you tapped your foot, or bounced your leg when you got to a complex part in a book. Or, when you were both laying down together and accidentally hit Tech in shock at a twist in the story. He loved every bit of it.

You turned back to your original book, now more determined than ever to finish it.

You did, however, catch Tech staring this time. You met his gaze, a wide smirk on your face. You couldn't help but giggle briefly. He gave you an odd look, but went back to his datapad. Just as you went back to your book.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! Requests are about to be open, just one more to fulfill! As always, I am open to constructive criticism.

Tags- (LMK if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[bri-cheeses]

Fiercely and obsessively (wrapped around your finger) — Part 1

| Rosekiller Soulmate AU | Word Count: 854 |

-

“So? Have you got it?”

Evan’s curious gaze roamed over his body like he couldn’t wait for an answer, instead having to search on his own. Barty laughed.

“Yes, I’ve got it, keep your pants on.”

Evan quirked a small smile and settled down, the bed creaking as he shifted his weight. Barty wasn’t sure why they had ended up on his bed, seeing as there were plenty of other, better places to do this—such as the window nook, which was plenty big to hold them both, or potentially even the chairs in the common room downstairs. Regardless, when Evan had come crawling into his bed as soon as they awoke, Barty hadn’t complained.

“Where is it?” Evan asked, still impatient. His eyes tracked Barty’s movements as he reached up towards his left sleeve and rolled it up, revealing a black mark in the shape of a somewhat blurred slash.

“Wow,” Evan breathed. His eyes were wide.

“Wow,” Barty agreed. Evan had the right idea with being a little in awe. Of course, Barty had already seen it on Dorcas—who had turned seventeen already—but it was something entirely to see it on himself. A permanent mark that would come alive with colors once your soulmate, typically by accident, touched you in the exact place your soul mark was.

Although there were some rules, the most prevalent being that a soulmate could touch you before both of your seventeenth birthdays and nothing would happen, and again after only one of you turned of age, but the colors would only light up after you both became adults. So, theoretically, you could have known your soulmate for ages before you ever discovered that your very souls were aligned.

Barty’s eyes drifted toward Evan, situated comfortably on his bed and looking for all the world like he belonged there. Something within him warmed at the sight.

“What do you think of it?” Barty asked. Evan’s looked back to the mark on his upper bicep.

“It’s certainly something,” he said. Some kind of emotion clouded his eyes, but he turned before Barty could figure out what it was. “Do you think his or yours will light up first?” Evan nodded toward the sleeping form in the bed next to them, closest to the wall. Barty could just make out a head full of curls, the rest completely buried under a blanket.

“Dunno,” he answered honestly. Of course, for all they knew, Regulus’s mark could’ve already been lit up. He had never shown them where his mark was, no matter how much they pestered him to show them. And believe him, they had tried.

But Barty didn’t say that, because somehow that felt a little rude. So instead he settled for a simple, “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Like Dorcas,” Evan said.

Yes, like Dorcas, whose soulmate mark had remained black for two months after her birthday. It was just recently in a Quidditch game versus Gryffindor that hers had become colorful after a certain Marlene Mckinnon grazed her forearm while chasing after a bludger.

That had been quite a sight to see, both girls frozen in midair while the game raged on around them. Dorcas had been staring with wide eyes, and Marlene’s jaw had just about hit the ground a hundred feet below them.

The most ridiculous part was that they had agreed to shake it off for the moment and finish the game, causing an uproar in the stands as soon as they realized that they wouldn’t be getting a front row view to the drama they had been expecting. No, that had come after Slytherin lost by a mere 30 points and Dorcas and Marlene disappeared to hash out their differences. It had taken a while, but the two were now practically inseparable.

Admittedly, Barty’s eyes had gotten tired of seeing so much red and gold day in and day out. Marlene was a Gryffindor through and through and did not hesitate to let it show. Which Barty could admire, he supposed, if she belonged to an actual good house like Slytherin.

“If Regulus’s soulmate is another Gryffindor I might have to jump off of the Astronomy Tower,” Barty muttered.

Evan’s responding laugh from beside him put a smile on his own face, because there was no better feeling in the world than making Evan Rosier laugh a deep, real laugh, and not just the kind he used at fancy dinner parties whenever his parents’ friends made bad jokes. No, Evan’s real laugh was miles better than that ever would be, because his nose crinkled up and his face flushed and it really was a sight to behold.

Not that Barty would ever say that out loud.

“I’ll go with you,” Evan promised, reaching out a hand to ruffle Barty’s hair fondly. “Now come on, it’d be a shame to miss breakfast on your birthday.”

“You just mean it’d be a shame to miss a time where you can sing me Happy Birthday,” Barty accused, but he was grinning as Evan pulled him off the bed and into the start of another day.

-

(Part 2 is here)

[grapejuicestyless]

could we have a story that warms up my heart and makes me feel gushy and mushy and eeeeeeek!!!!!!! I’m in need of something to ‘awwwwwww’ to and I feel like you’re perfect for that 🥹🫶🏻

Tiny Moves

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: You and JJ have only been friends for a little while, but to him it feels like he’s known you forever and he’s so sure he’ll always want you forever. Inspired by the song Tiny Moves by Bleachers. I wrote this with JJ Maybank in mind because I’ve been on an OBX kick recently but it could definitely be rewritten to fit other people!

JJ Maybank was a notorious man whore, to put it delicately. Sleeping with any tourist who even batted their eyelashes at him, and any other girl from the cut who was desperate enough to sneak away from the party for a blurred night with the blonde.

He didn’t mind the status, being the guy they all went to. In his mind, no strings attached was the best thing for him. It meant no pressure to feel things and no guilt for turning down any girl who had stupidly fallen for him.

That was, until he met her. Y/n Y/l/n, a friend of a friend and his former lab partner from middle school. He didn’t mean to fall for her, but then again, who really plans on falling in love, let alone with some girl JJ wouldn’t even show up to biology class for when he was still on the brink of becoming a teenager.

He remembers the messy braids tied in her hair and the way the safety glasses left faint marks behind on her face after long hours spent leaning over a plastic beaker mixing different colored fluids to make a rainbow.

Back then, he never really paid her any attention. What she did or didn’t do never peaked his interest, he would much rather have spent his time with his cheek pressed against the palm of his hands while he looked out the window like he was in prison. Now, suddenly and without warning, it did matter.

JJ wanted all of her tiny moves, he wanted to forever remember the silly marks from the glasses on her face or how her nose would scrunch and the skin by her eyes would crinkle when she would smile. It made his chest feel funny, wanting all of the silly little nonsensical things from her, things that would never give him any kind of personal gain but all things he couldn’t stop praying for.

He remembers how she stopped by one day without warning in the middle of January, stumbling over the piles of leaves piled up by the front steps of the chateau. She was wearing a soft white dress that swayed around her ankles in the wind and had blue painted on her finger nails. She was just giving back his notebook he let her borrow when she was out of class with a cold a few days prior to her visit, and truthfully he had just stolen Pope’s notes and taken the credit, but the soft smile on her face and the dimples by her cheeks made it impossible for him to confess the truth.

When she left, he felt the insatiable burning in his chest and the intense pounding of his heart against his ribcage. He placed Kiara’s hand over his chest wearily, only driving himself into more of a panic as he declared to her that he believed he was having a heart attack. He felt so funny and sluggish that he was so sure of it, but Kiara only swatted his hand away and laughed with her whole stomach as she realized his feelings before him.

“Jayj, you’re in love!” She said it so loudly, he had to put a hand over her mouth and hush her until she promised not to say anything to anyone.

And how could he have not seen it? The tiniest moves she made, it was like watching his whole world shake. A simple smile or a polite giggle from across the campfire at one of his half decent jokes and he was redder than the sky at sundown and hotter than the lively flame in front of him.

He doesn’t know how it happened, or why he suddenly decided to start paying her any kind of special attention in their friendship, or even why it was her. He always thought he’d end up with Kiara because at least if he was unloveable, him and her had made a pact to get married if they hadn’t met anyone by thirty. But now, all of his past meant nothing to him when he had the something he didn’t even know he was looking to find.

“Stay still.” Her voice ordered playfully, taking my wrist in her hands and blowing a cool breeze across my fingertips.

The overwhelming smell of nail polish mixed with the addictive smell of freshness in her room, her pillows fluffy and her blankets piled all over her bed. I knew that John B was surely going to give me a hard time when I walked into his backyard with bright orange nails, but when Y/n finished up her own hands and looked up at me all doe eyed asking if I would let her paint mine the same color so we could match, I didn’t even think about the names he would call me before I said yes. All I could think about was how happy she would be if I were to give in.

“Smells so bad.” I gagged, trying to pull my hands from her grip playfully, nose crinkling at the chemical like smell that covered my hands.

She laughed, throwing her head back as she grabbed both of my hands this time, despite one of them already being dry and shook them in her own hands.

“You’ll mess it up you dork!” She leaned forward, practically laughing into my chest at my faux hurt that I painted across my face. I laughed too, but not nearly as hard. I was too focused on her.

I’d only really been friends with Y/n for a year. She had only started tagging along just last June, and yet, she consumed all of my thoughts more than anyone I’d ever known. I wanted to be around her all the time, make her laugh just so I could hear the breathiness in her voice as she claimed she couldn’t breathe because her ribs hurt too much. I’d only really known her for a year, but it felt like we’d been intertwined like this forever, and I’m certain I’ll feel like this forevermore.

It was like Kiara had told me in January when she first came by in her pretty white dress and a sweet smile on her face, I was in love and I loved her.

“I love you.” Her giggles sputtered off into one final breath of air squeaking from her throat, and her eyes stretched in a way that confirmed that what I had said was out loud and not just the phrase I repeated to her in my head over and over again every time we spoke.

And my whole world shook violently when I got no response, feeling my heart breaking for that silent second and only hearing the ringing in my ears accompanied by the humming of the fan in the corner of her room.

And then, suddenly, her hands were on my cheeks, lips pressed to mine and eyelashes tickling my cheeks as they fluttered shut. She tasted like strawberry chapstick and minty toothpaste, I couldn’t help but feel completely consumed by her when all I could feel was her. Her hands, her lips, her coconut shampoo.

My hands found the back of her neck, massaging the skin between my fingers to deepen the press of her lips to mine like if I weren’t, she would slip away and I would wake from this blissful dream of mine.

When we pulled away, I found her eyes looking straight into mine, lips swollen and pink from where we were connected just a moment ago.

Then, suddenly, she was melting into a fit of giggles that bubbled from her chest, eyes closing as her forehead rested against my shoulder. For a second, I thought she thought it was funny, but then I felt myself fall into the same static feelings of pure excitement, happiness and love that she was feeling. That same funny feeling spreading from my chest to ever limb in my body until I was buzzing with it, blushing until I was sure my whole face was beet red.

“Why are you laughing?” I laughed along with her, pulling her head to rest against mine with both of my hands, feeling her moving against my forehead with each giggle that escaped her lips. Her hands found mine, pulling them down to her lap where she could brush her hands over my knuckles and smile at polish, which was now worn away.

“You smudged it!” She breathed out like it was the funniest thing in the world, and I knew it felt like it to her because of the leftover nerves and giddiness resting in her stomach, the same fluttery feeling I felt as well.

“Eh, you can fix them, right?” I didn’t let her answer, pressing my lips to hers again and holding her hands in mine. I’d only just gotten a taste and I was already addicted.

Maybe I was having a heart attack, but I wouldn’t know the difference with all the love pumping through my body. At least if I was, I would die knowing I finally got the girl.

And all of her tiny moves.

[starsjulia]

angel chapter five // stepping away

a/n : so i may have lied, this one’s another short one… also i know jonas resigned but i write this before he did and im to lazy to change it.

warnings : cancer, cancer treatment, side effects, still a fluffy chapter though.

masterlist

Angel’s treatments, though showing promise, still left her weak and vulnerable, and there were many days when Leah could see how much her little girl needed her. It wasn’t just about the medical appointments and treatments—it was about the quiet moments in between, when Angel would wake up from a restless sleep and reach out for her mother’s comforting touch, or the times when she would ask Leah to sit beside her just so she wouldn’t feel alone.

Leah had missed a few training sessions recently, and though her teammates were understanding, Leah could see the strain it was placing on the team. The club had been nothing but supportive, but there was a growing realization within Leah that something needed to change. She couldn’t keep splitting herself between the demands of football and the needs of her daughter, not when Angel’s fight was still so precarious.

The moment of clarity came one afternoon as Leah sat in the hospital room, holding Angel’s hand as her daughter slept. The beeping of the monitors filled the silence, a constant reminder of their reality. Leah stared at her daughter’s pale face, at the way her once-vibrant hair had thinned and how fragile she looked lying there. The thought of being away from her, even for a few hours of training, filled Leah with a deep sense of unease.

It was time. She knew what she needed to do.

The next day, Leah called a meeting with the club. Sitting across from Jonas and the management team, she took a deep breath. “I need to step away from football for a while,” she said, her voice steady but filled with emotion. “I want to be with Angel. I need to be there for her.”

Jonas leaned forward, his expression compassionate and understanding. “We completely understand, Leah. Your family comes first, and we’ll support you in whatever you need.”

Leah nodded, relief washing over her but also a pang of sadness. She had dedicated so much of her life to this sport, to this club. Walking away, even temporarily, felt like leaving a piece of herself behind. But when she thought of Angel—her daughter’s small hand clasped in hers, her soft voice asking if Leah would be there when she woke up—it wasn’t even a choice. It was the only thing she could do.

Leah informed the rest of the team after training that day. The news was met with a wave of emotion, and as her teammates surrounded her, Leah could feel the love and support in every embrace, in every quiet word of encouragement. Lia pulled her aside, her eyes shining with understanding. “We’re all here for you,” she said. “And when you’re ready, we’ll be here waiting.”

The next morning, Leah woke up knowing that football was no longer part of her daily routine. There was no training to get to, no tactics to think about, no upcoming matches to prepare for. It felt strange, disorienting even, to be without the structure that had defined her life for so long. But as she glanced over at Angel, still sleeping soundly beside her, Leah was reassured that she had made the right choice.

Their days settled into a new kind of routine. Leah became fully immersed in Angel’s world—sitting through long hours of chemotherapy, reading countless books to pass the time, and finding little ways to make each day feel special, even if it was something as simple as a board game or a coloring session. She learned to treasure the moments when Angel’s energy returned, however fleeting they were, and to be present in the quiet, difficult times when all she could do was hold her daughter’s hand and let her know she wasn’t alone.

Angel’s condition continued to fluctuate. There were days when she seemed to be getting stronger, her smile more frequent and her laughter more like it used to be. But there were also setbacks—unexpected fevers, side effects from the treatments, and nights when her pain seemed unmanageable. Leah remained a constant source of comfort, her presence giving Angel the strength to face each day, no matter how hard it was.

Despite stepping away from the pitch, Leah couldn’t completely shut football out of her life. The Arsenal team kept in close contact, sending messages and video calls, making sure she knew they hadn’t forgotten about her or Angel. On match days, they wore “Angel” armbands in her honor, and the club organized fundraisers for childhood cancer research. It was a reminder that the Arsenal family was still very much a part of their journey, even from a distance.

One evening, as Leah and Angel sat together in the hospital room, the little girl looked up at her mother with wide, curious eyes. “Mummy, why aren’t you playing football anymore?” she asked. “Don’t you miss it?”

Leah’s heart ached at the question. She thought about all the times she had taken to the pitch, the adrenaline of game day, the roar of the crowd, the feeling of being part of something bigger than herself. But then she looked at Angel, and her daughter’s tired but hopeful face reminded her why she had made the choice.

“I do miss it,” Leah admitted, her voice soft. “But right now, you’re the most important thing in the world to me. Football will always be there, but I want to be with you while you’re getting better.”

Angel seemed to ponder this for a moment, then nodded. “Okay,” she said, a small smile forming on her lips. “But you’ll go back one day, right?”

Leah nodded, brushing a strand of hair away from Angel’s forehead. “One day,” she agreed. “When you’re all better, we’ll go back together.”

The days that followed were a mix of quiet resilience and unexpected joys. Though Leah wasn’t on the pitch, she felt more connected to her daughter than ever before. They created their own little world—one where they painted pictures of football matches, watched old Arsenal games on TV, and even kicked a small foam ball around the hospital room on Angel’s good days. It wasn’t the life Leah had planned, but it was a life filled with love, and that was all that mattered.

And slowly, Leah began to notice a change in herself too. Being with Angel day in and day out, she found a new kind of strength, one that didn’t come from physical training or mental toughness, but from the unconditional love she felt for her daughter. She learned that sometimes, the bravest thing you could do was simply be present—to sit in the discomfort, the uncertainty, and the fear, and still find a way to see the light.

One quiet afternoon, as they sat together coloring a picture of the Emirates Stadium, Leah looked over at her daughter and saw a glimmer of the little girl she had been before all this began—cheeky and full of dreams. Angel caught her mother’s gaze and tilted her head. “What is it, Mummy?” she asked, her blue eyes twinkling.

Leah smiled, feeling a swell of hope she hadn’t dared to acknowledge before. “I was just thinking,” she said softly, “about how strong you are. You’re the bravest person I know.”

Angel’s smile grew, and she took her mother’s hand, squeezing it gently. “That’s because I have you,” she whispered.

Leah felt tears prick her eyes, but they were different this time—more hopeful than sad. She knew the road ahead was still uncertain, still full of challenges. But for now, they had each other, and that was enough.

[respectthepetty]

Jack & Joker - Wild Ass Theories

Yin and War are hot. I wanted to start with a fact.

Also, Jennie is in the next episode, so our girl is living her best life!

Theory #1 - The heist happens soon

Random: The two guys Hope sends to go after Joke are the same men who end up tied up by this woman and her people.

Hope seems to be from Jack's neighborhood in the opening scenes, so did Jack teach him how to fight and become an enforcer?

I only have a thirty image limit, but this is vision from the trailer:

Jack goes to collect money from Tattoo and Hoy, but lets them off easy

Later, Hope hits Tattoo with a pan because he feels Jack took it too easy on him

Hoy and Tattoo try to ambush Joke because they think he is the only one who can get Jack out of this business

Joke flips the tables and ties up Hoy while asking more questions

They plan the heist because they need money and to get Jack's attention

Hoy and Tattoo are seen doing something to Aran's bag,

And Joke apparently takes the necklace right off of Aran's neck when the model passes out on the runway with the bag and Tattoo right there, so wouldn't Hope realize who is involved?

So is this why Joke goes to hide out at Jack's house after he gets away from the fight with him? And Hoy and Tattoo spill the beans about where Joke is and this is this why Hope and Jack are fighting outside of Jack's house? I think so!

Theory #2 - Rosé is going to fund Jack's school

The sweet rich girl wants to eliminate debt and help the poor. Plus Jack, at some point, stands in as her bodyguard. That's all I got. *shrugs* It's a vibe.

Theory #3 - Joke's hand tattoo is Jack

Not really a theory but more of an observation because Jack's best skill is sleight of hand. He was able to steal Carbon's wallet without Carbon noticing which is why Carbon couldn't find it to pay.

And Joke switched the tests by distracting the boy when he took his wallet, only two snatch the answer keys when the boy starting arguing with the other one.

Joke has been at this for a bit because he had several aliases.

And the reporter said previous to the most recent store robbery, Joke had committed five other robberies.

And every time, he left behind his signature frowning face symbol, but five years later, he has as smiling face tattooed on his hand, which, once again, is his biggest asset, so does he have it to remind him to do better whenever he wants to use his skills again?

Because he once ruined the happy boy's life who is the basis for the tattoo?

But on his other wrist he has both the frowning face and the smiling face depending on how it is viewed, so is it both of them?

Not related, Joke has a tattoo on his chest. Zoom in.

Theory #4 - Jack will give Joke the ring

Jack gave the boss this ring as collateral, and it has sentimental value since the opening credits show it has two names on the inside (his parents) and Jack's on the outside. In the final scene of the trailer when Joke kisses Jack (after opening his martial arts studio?), there is a glimmer on Joke's hand that has the smiling face tattoo. I think it's the ring!

Theory #5 - Colors

The boys aren't really a Black Brooder and a Red Rascal.

Like they are now, but they aren't. *squints*

Jack was a Cyan Cutie.

He was loyal.

He was chill and happy. (shirt reads "happy place, happy place" over his heart)

Joke was a "standard" blue boy who was intelligent in overlooked ways.

But Joke's red shows up when he is Joker because his braces were red in the exam con.

And his tie was red in the bank con.

So I think even though times have changed, and they have absorbed their current colors, the blue will still be shared between them.

Because it will show up again.

Theory #6 - Aran is Tattoo's boyfriend

I want Mark and Prom to kiss so badly in this show that I'm going to single-handedly sail this ship, so I think when Hoy and Tattoo surprise Jack and Joke, Aran is standing next to Tattoo. It doesn't make sense if they robbed him, but he is the only extra boy with an earring in his left ear, the hair lines up, and he would wear a shirt like that.

Give them to me!