#I'm sorry for the person who requested this

[spiderb00]

- BACK TO HIGH SCHOOL

Sophia Laforteza x reader  | (request)

"You and Sophia hate each other, but maybe it's not quite like that..."

Genre – Fluff        Warnings – Not reviewed (sorry, I'm sleepy) 

Now playing – Still Into You, by Paramore 

A sigh of breath came from your lips as soon as you parked your car in front of the house of one of your childhood friends. The moonlight illuminated part of the street and when you turned off the headlights of your car everything seemed to have become a little more tense. Getting out of the car, you took a deep breath, bottle of red wine in hand to at least say that you brought something to the small party.   

When you rang the doorbell, your whole body shuddered, not only because it was a little cold outside, but because of the anxiety of seeing all your childhood friends together again, especially one of them.  

When the door opened, you froze, staring intently at the person who had opened the door for you. Sophia Laforteza, in all her glory. Many might say you were sworn enemies in high school, but you couldn't disagree more.   

"Oh, it's you..." Her tone showed that maybe she hadn't let go of the little disagreements you had.   

Giving an awkward smile, you watched Sophia move out of the way, a silent permission for you to enter. The house was full of conversation and laughter, and before you could think of what to say to Sophia, one of your longtime friends clung to you.  

"YN!" Maya screamed, hugging your neck with excitement. "I didn't know if you would actually come, you seem to be always so busy with your company. Come on, come in." the woman said, pulling you by the wrist.   

If you had turned your face, you would have seen Sophia roll her eyes, walking up to one of the closest friends she had at school and collapsing next to her on the couch. 

"Wow, it feels like you've come back with one of the heaviest energies I've ever felt in my entire life. Who was at the door? O Nosferatu?” Abby, Sophia's friend, asked.   

"Worse, Yn." Sophia said, crossing her arms like a tantrum child.   

"Yn? Like, that girl who had a crush on you?" Abby asks, taking a sip of her martini.   

"She didn't have a crush on me, she hated me. She always tried to steal my roles in school plays. Not to mention when she tore up the letter someone wrote to me on Valentine's Day." Sophia's gaze was watching the kitchen, maybe she wasn't in her right mind, and just maybe she wanted to throw the hollow of the coffee table on your head.   

"Girl, that girl liked you, I'm not crazy. By the way, I'm always right, remember?!"   

"What? Don't you remember how it happened?" 

- High School, Manila – six years ago. 

At that school, every sixteen-year-old's dream was to get a Valentine's Day letter. It was a school custom for a post office to be made during Valentine's Day, so when the day came, everyone would write letters to the people they had a crush on, and that letter would be delivered to each other's lockers during class.   

With the classroom still empty, Sophia and Kylie talked freely, cheerful and super excited to see if their passions had sent them something.   

"I don't know, I just wanted Yn to stop being so boring and like me, at least a little bit." The young Sophia said, organizing the materials for the next class and leaving them metrically positioned on the table.   

"I've already told you that I think she only does all that to get your attention." Abby said, looking at herself in the mirror as she smeared lip gloss.  

"You'll still admit that I'm right, Sophie." Abby said, making Sophia roll her eyes at the nickname. "Do you think Dylan likes my lip gloss?" The girl asked.   

"He'd be an idiot if he didn't like it." Sophia says, making Abby laugh. "It seems lovely to receive a letter from him."  

"He's adorable." Abby said, a cocky tone coming out of her words.   

"I don't think he likes me." Sophia said, pointing to a pencil, so she wouldn't have to do this during class.  

"Of course he likes you, he's just shy." Abby said, not wanting her best friend to think bad things about her boyfriend.   

"yes, it could be." Sophia said, not paying much attention to the words of the girl next to her.   

"Anyway, let's hope you get your letter today." Abby said, making Sophia laugh lightly as she shook her head.   

While Sophia and her friend laugh at the conversation, Yn enters the room, accompanied by Zack, one of the nerdy boys who always hung out with her. Choosing Sophia's back seat, Yn sat down, and the Filipino girl observed the girl's different behavior.   

 "Have you finally decided to pay attention in class instead of sleeping in all of them?" Sophia asked, her tone sounding too sarcastic for Yn.  

"Why don't you take charge of your life." Yn said, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair, making the Filipina furrow her brows at her. Turning in her chair, Sophia missed something very important, the sigh and the look of sadness that Yn had on her face.  

After school was over, young Sophia was crossing her fingers. Sophia had asked her faithful friend, Abby, to open the door to her closet, wanting to be quick to pick up the letter, but too afraid to look first. The Filipino girl had her back turned, and when she heard the soft creak of her closet door, only one question crossed her mind.   

"And then? Is there something in there?" Sophia asked, the tone of her voice evidenced how nervous she was.  

"Yes." Abby said, positioning the letter she had ordered inside Sophia's closet, in front of the Filipina's face. 

Sophia's breathing was quickened, her hand rose and her hand was aching, tingling to have the letter finally in her possession. As Sophia's fingers brushed against the envelope's paper, a gust of wind hit her, and along with it Hurricane Yn. On top of her battered skateboard, Yn had just stolen the letter from Sophia's hands, paddling her feet faster on the ground, practically flying with the board on wheels.   

"YN! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"   

Passing like lightning through the students, maneuvering and dodging all possible things, Yn tried to go faster. Looking back, the problem girl saw Sophia running towards her, like an angry bull, a bomb about to explode, like anything that could hurt a lot, and Yn was the target.   

Luckily, some students passing through the front door of the school kept it open, giving Yn easier access to the parking lot. With the passenger door open, Yn's nerdy and rich friend, Zack, was waiting for her, nervous that one of them would get into serious trouble. When the boy finally saw Yn coming towards him, he quickly shouted, warning Yn that Sophia was right behind her.   

"YN, COME BACK HERE!" Sophia screamed, still trying to reach the girl, who was now hanging from the door of Zack's Jeep.  

"SORRY!"   

It was the only thing Sophia heard Yn say before the car accelerated. 

"Now do you remember? You ran with me, the whole school thought we were crazy!" Sophia said, finishing remembering the story to Abby.   

"It doesn't matter, we were children. I remember very well how you wanted to receive a letter from her that day." Abby countered Sophia's line, making the woman roll her eyes. "You always rolled your eyes at me in high school, and I was always right."  

"There's no way she'll like me." Sophia muttered.   

"There's no way she'll like me." The same phrase was repeated in the kitchen.   

Yn, who had now begun talking to Maya and Zack about her complicated relationship with Sophia, took a big sip of the beer she had in her hand, trying to forget what a little disaster she was when Sophia opened the door.   

"I never understood, why did you steal her letter anyway?" Maya asked, making you look at Zack.  

Seeing as you were looking at him, the man quickly prepared a shot of tequila for you, which you readily accepted. The liquid burned your throat, and when you finished feeling the consequences of alcohol in your system (just for now), you hit the small empty shot glass on the counter.  

"Let's go..." 

Games has always been one of your favorite topics of conversation with Zack, but when you got close to the classroom, something a little more interesting caught your eye.  

"He's adorable." Abby said, a cocky tone coming out of her words.   

"I don't think he likes me very much." Sophia said, pointing to a pencil, so she wouldn't have to do this during class.  

"Of course he likes you, he's just shy." Abby said, not wanting her best friend to think bad things about her boyfriend.   

Stopping abruptly, you began to pay attention to the girls' conversation. Zack, slightly confused by your extravagant, looked at you as if to ask what was wrong. 

"What are you doing? Let's go in." Before he made the presence of the two of you recognized there, you grabbed him by the back of his shirt, putting your hand on his mouth as he tried to protest.   

"Shut up and listen." You whispered aggressively, causing your friend to raise his hands in surrender.   

"yes, it could be." Sophia said, not paying much attention to the words of the girl next to her.   

"Anyway, let's hope you get your letter today." Abby said, making Sophia laugh lightly as she shook her head. 

That was it, all was lost, your plan to deliver a letter to Sophia and finally confess your feelings to her was over. Every time you tried to do projects in pairs, discreetly changing the teacher's list of names, or every time you auditioned for the male role in a play just because Sophia would narrow down as the princess who needed to be saved, all of that had gone down the drain, she liked another boy.   

Finally understanding what was happening there, Zack put his hand on your shoulder, your sad look made the boy feel bad for you.   

"I'm sorry, Yn." Zack said, trying to comfort you about your first broken heart. 

"Alright, I mean, at least she doesn't know I like her, it would be a clime." You said, laughing falsely as you tried to mask your pain.   

When Zack was going to tell you not to pretend, your eyes widened, a sensation taking over your body, making you shiver from head to toe, the only thing your mind weighed was that Sophia could NEVER see that letter.  

"Zack!" You whispered aggressively, grabbing the shoulders of the boy in front of you. "She can't see the letter!" You said, shaking your best friend's shoulders.   

"Hey, I'm going to get dizzy..."   

"As soon as class is over, wait for me in the parking lot with your car running! I have a plan." You said, dropping Zack and entering the classroom.   

"After that, I think she started to hate me even more." You said, taking one more shot. Grabbing a plastic cup with something Zack mixed.   

"But you know what, I don't care, I don't feel anything..."  

Without paying much attention, you ended up missing the moment when Sophia entered the kitchen, turning around just in time and spilling all your crazy drink on her clothes. Her mouth was open, the perfect shape of an 'o', just like Zack and Maya's.   

"Sorry, I..." You couldn't even finish the sentence, the Filipina was already going up the stairs towards the bathroom.   

 With a sigh of defeat, you rubbed your hands over your eyes, thinking about why you couldn't do anything right when it came to Sophia.   

"Go over there." Maya said, pointing with her drink towards the stairs.

"I can't, she'll tear me apart." You said, crestfallen. 

"Or you can finally have a conversation as adults and sort out whatever high school craziness you have to sort out."  

Taking Maya's words as an encouraging, you walked determinedly upstairs. When you came face to face with the bathroom door, leaning your body completely against it, you let out a deep sigh, before finally knocking.  

"It's Yn..."  

"Go away, Yn."  

One more sigh. Maybe those shots were a bad idea, now your head hurt.   

"I'm sorry. Not just for the drink, for everything. I was really stupid, I just thought it was the best way to get your attention, but then you started hating me, and I can't shut my mouth." You keep talking as you slide through the door, sitting in the middle of the hallway.   

"It was all a bad idea, I shouldn't have stolen the letter from you, I shouldn't even have sent it..."   

As soon as you closed your mouth, the bathroom door opened. You fell on your back with a dull thud and groaned as your head hit the ground with some force. As you sat down again, you were sure that those shots were a bad idea.   

"Were you the one who sent the letter?" Sophia asked, genuinely interested in what you had just said.   

"It's... I..."   

"Yn, was that letter yours?" Sophia approached, lowering herself to your height and looking at you with a look you had never seen on her face.   

"Yes." You confessed, another sigh coming from your lips, followed by a sob, which left you half embarrassed. "I heard you talking about another guy that day, you know, when I was walking into class." You confessed, another sob coming out of your lips, making you lower your head so that Sophia wouldn't see how embarrassed you were. 

"Wait, man? I wasn't talking about any guy..."   

"Yeah, you were talking about how sure you were that he didn't like you, and then Abby made sure he did. I was just scared of ruining something you really wanted."  

Analyzing your words, Sophia couldn't believe it. You liked her too, you were both hiding your real intentions for fear of something silly getting in the way. Finally remembering the conversation she had with Abby that day, Sophia started laughing, it was a little funny and sad to think that the two of you could have been together all this time. 

"I was talking about Abby's boyfriend, you stupid." Sophia said, pushing your chest, making you look at her with a confused expression.  

"So you didn't like any guys?" You asked, making Sophia deny it with her head.  

"No. In fact, I really wish you had sent me a letter that day, if you had arrived a little earlier to eavesdrop on my conversation, you would have listened." Sophia said, sitting next to you and touching her shoulder with yours.   

"You know, I never wanted to go into the theater to steal your role in the cast." You said, another letting a sob escape. "I wanted to be your date."   

Smiling, Sophia looked at you, the Filipina's gaze going down your chest, until it landed on your hands, which were on your lap. With a slight smile on her face, Sophia took your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers, making you look into her eyes for the first time.   

"Do you still want to be?" 

Hey guys, sorry for the delay with the requests, I'm trying hard. But lately I've also been very busy taking care of my farm and my WIFE Haley, we have a son now, her name is Ani (like anora)

Anyway, now seriously, I'm trying to make the requests, but I'm trying to enjoy my vacation, in a little while my college classes start and then it will get more complicated.

I also created another profile to write about women outside of kpop, the name of the profile is Sipderb00bs (in honor of the anon who always read my name wrong), I will be receiving requests there too, in case you want to take a look.

Stay safe and drink water

xoxo, spider.

[sayangrafayel]

Him reacting to you SCREAMING while watching an idol (be it J-POP, K-POP, or any singer at all)

Another good and (something I wanted to do) request! The anon asked for their reaction to you SCREAMING. Emphasis on screaming and going crazy over idols. Enjoy!

Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Caleb.

Sylus

As soon as he heard your screams, he IMMEDIATELY rushed to you.

"SWEETIE, WHAT HAPPENED? ARE YOU OKAY?" "Yes!!! I'm just so...! LOOK AT THEM SY, THEY ARE SO COOL. AAAAH."

He turns his attention at your screen and furrows his eyebrows! How dare! He can sing and dance like that too, you know?

Starts singing along and you would lose focus, because now your 6'2" boyfriend is in the room stumbling and singing off key. But holy hell, you love him for it. What a dork.

Xavier

Is currently watching the same thing with you.

"I don't understand.. how are they so energetic?" "BECAUSE THEY ARE THE BEEEEST! MY POOKIE!" "But I thought I was your pookie.. 🥺"

At first he was jealous someone else got your attention that much, but the thought that he's the one who gets to hold you every time he please soothes him.

You absolutely made him dress up as your idol at least ONCE. Your boyfriend's pretty face cannot go to waste! You even suggested that he could be an idol if he wanted to. He didn't like it though... he just wants to be your Xavier, not anyone else's, not even as an idol.

Rafayel

He's painting on that giant canvas of his while you sit on his couch and watch your idol, you suddenly screamed and it shocked him.

"Ouchie! My poor fishie ears!" "I'm so sorry my dear, but LOOK. LOOK AT THEEEEM." "No, thank you. You know, Sylus should definitely audition to become one of those idols. It would be so funny to watch him stumble all over the stage." (Sorry I had to slip in my dynamic duo, I MISS THEM)

You would laugh of course, you love their friendship too "Rafayel, you are one cruel fishie. But you are so right!"

He would continue to paint while you continue to fangirl over your idol. He wouldn't trade this for the world.

Zayne

Like Raf, he was working on his laptop while you watch the tv and fangirl.

Turns his head to you and the tv once in awhile just to make sure you don't damage your vocal cord..

Of course he is supportive of your hobby! BUT HE IS SO SASSY ABOUT IT THOUGH.

"Raw, next question! You know what I mean Zayne!?" "No, I do not. I am a Doctor who works many hours a week and I have a real life ungrateful girlfriend to spoil."

Caleb

This one is quite hard to read. He either goes crazy with you or gets jealous. It depends on the day.

He'd take you swooning over some idol rather than another person in your life any day though.

You screaming? He's used to it. Plus, he loves how passionate you are when it comes to the things you love.

Deep down he knows you just adore your idol! You have since you both were kids! But sometimes he gets jealous okay!! But makes up for it by buying you their merch and all.

"Your idol is having a concert in three months, should we go?" "CAN WE, PLEAAAASE?" "As long as you love me the most!" ruffles your hair.

[isaadore]

YOURS TO KEEP CONNOR BEDARD

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ pairing connor bedard x reader

SUMMARY connor has always kept his personal life private, but during a blackhawks family skate, he surprises his teammates and the media by introducing you as his girlfriend. word count 0.9k

warnings fem!reader, use of y/n, fluff, established relationship, teasing

note requested by anon <3 i'm sorry i made connor seem so tall; he definitely isn't… (he's only two inches taller than me)

CB98 MASTERLIST MAIN MASTERLIST

CONNER WASN’T ONE to draw attention to himself off the ice. He kept his head down, focused on hockey, and left the spotlight to the bigger personalities. It’s not that he was hiding anything—okay, maybe one thing.

You.

You’d been together for years, long enough that Connor’s rookie season with the Blackhawks wasn’t your first brush with the hockey world. But he had always kept your relationship private. There were no Instagram posts, no public outings, and no “soft launches.” He didn’t see the point in inviting unnecessary attention.

Then, out of the blue, he brought it up over takeout one night.

“So, there’s this family skate coming up,” he said casually, too casually, as if he hadn’t been rehearsing the line for days.

“Okay…” you said, raising an eyebrow as you speared a piece of broccoli with your fork.

“I was thinking, maybe you’d want to come?” He said it so fast that it almost sounded like one word.

You froze, mid-chew. “Wait, are you serious? You want me to meet your teammates?”

He shrugged, trying—and failing—to look unbothered. “I mean, yeah. It’s no big deal.”

You stared at him, a slow smile spreading across your face. “Are you blushing?”

“Just forget it,” he mumbled, looking anywhere but at you.

“Hey, no! I want to go,” you said quickly, reaching across the table to grab his hand. “I just… I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“I do,” he said, quieter now. “I want you there.”

A few days later, you found yourself at the United Center, lacing up your skates while Connor hovered nearby. He was fidgeting with his gloves, glancing toward the ice, then back at you.

“Are you nervous?” you asked, half-laughing as you tightened your laces.

“No,” he said immediately, then paused. “Maybe. I just… I don’t do this stuff.”

“Connor, it’s a family skate, not a press conference.”

He huffed a laugh but didn’t look convinced.

The second you stepped onto the ice, Connor was right there, his hand in yours, steadying you. It was sweet how he acted like you might fall at any moment, even though you’d skated plenty of times with him before.

“You good?” he asked, glancing down at you.

“Yeah,” you said, smiling up at him. “Are you?”

Before he could answer, you caught movement out of the corner of your eye. A group of his teammates was gathered near the bench, and they were definitely watching.

“Wait a minute,” Lukas said, his eyebrows pulling together as he looked between the two of you. “Who’s this?”

Connor stiffened, his fingers tightening slightly around yours, but he didn’t let go.

“This is… uh, this is my girlfriend, Y/N,” he said, his voice steady despite the blush creeping up his neck.

The group fell silent for half a second, then erupted all at once.

“Shut up.”

“No way.”

“You’ve been hiding her this whole time?”

Taylor skated closer, eyeing Connor with disbelief. “You’ve been holding out on us, man. How long has this been a thing?”

Connor shifted awkwardly, his free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “A while.”

“A while?” Alex said, his mouth falling open. “That’s all you’re giving us?” He turned to you, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “How do you put up with him? He’s, like, the least talkative guy on the planet.”

You laughed, shooting Connor a playful look. “He’s not so bad. When he talks, it’s usually worth listening to.”

A few of the guys laughed at that, while Connor just muttered, “Real funny,” under his breath, though he couldn’t quite hide the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

By the time the group had mostly dispersed, Connor was still at your side, his hand brushing against yours every so often, as if he needed the reassurance.

At the end of the skate, the team gathered at centre ice for a group photo. The team photographer directed everyone into position, and Connor stood with you off to the side, watching.

“C’mon, Bedard!” Lukas called out. “Bring her in, too. It’s a family skate, isn’t it?”

Connor hesitated, glancing at you. “You okay with that?”

You nodded, smiling. “Of course.”

Without another word, he led you into the group, sliding his arm around your waist as you both smiled for the camera. It felt natural, like you belonged there.

The photo was shared on the team’s Instagram later that evening, captioned: Family Skate Day ❤️

Almost immediately, fans noticed the small detail that sent the internet into overdrive: Connor Bedard, standing with his arm around a girl.

The comments section exploded.

user01 WAIT WHAT

user02 who’s the girl next to bedard??

user03 No idea but it should be me

user04 user03 preach

user05 wake up this is not a drill connor has a gf 💔

user06 Oh my day is ruined

user07 talk about a hard launch

user08 she’s so pretty stoppp

Connor didn’t notice the post until his phone buzzed with a flurry of notifications. He frowned, pulling it out of his pocket.

“Uh,” he said, staring at the screen. “I think the team might’ve… posted something.”

You leaned over to see, a soft laugh escaping as you read the caption. “Clearly.”

Connor sighed, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “This is why I don’t do social media.”

You reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Hey, it’s not so bad. They’re just happy for you—for us.”

He looked at you, his expression softening. “As long as you’re okay with it.”

You smiled. “I am. Are you?”

Connor hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah,” he said, his voice soft. “Better than okay.”

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ CB98 MASTERLIST ✷ MAIN MASTERLIST

[swtsupernatural]

S.W || SILK & SHAPESHIFTERS: PT2

Sam Winchester x Thick!Fem!Reader

Content Warning reader being shorter than Sam, reader desc as having thick thighs, dean being annoying, swearing, reader wanting to fuck sam, a bit of sexual tension that is not yet resolved (pls be patient with me)

Summary Fluff, (Sexual tension lowk) strangers to acquaintances to lovers(?) - Posing as Sam Winchester's girlfriend at a charity ball for a hunting case isn't so bad, that is until you have to do actual work. You might kill Dean when you get out of here, and hopefully get your hands on your fake boyfriend.

W.C. 2k words

(Original) Ask anon: A: Hello hello! I'm back again; I'm going to change my request style a bit, how about a female reader with thick thighs? Make her with Sam please

Playlist: ♫ Blue Jeans - Lana Del Rey, Body - Megan Thee Stallion, She's My Collar - Gorillaz

A.N. part 2 finally ! was not expecting winter break to be so busy...more to come so so soon my loves. Also, so sorry to make this into 3 parts I swear im not trying to torture yall - xx claire

Taglist: @callsign-ember @kaiserpoo @lovelymax10

Inside the estate your once flushed face grew even warmer — this time from the heaters, not Sam’s undeniably sexy voice. Past the elegant entrance and wide, old doors was a large ballroom type area with an intricate ceiling that you had to crane your neck up to look at. The thick banners hanging around the room were a deep blue, showing images of marine animals in a chilling climate, most looking disheartened or sad. In swirling letters on the top of each banner read: “Marine Life Fundraiser: 2025” 

“How much you wanna bet they don’t even know half of the animals they’re donating to?” Sam piped up.

“Not a lot. These events are more about having a nice evening in a way too expensive outfit, showing off your very rich, sexy boyfriend/husband or very pretty, young girlfriend/wife, and doing that rich person laugh.”

“I don’t know if we’re being very convincing then.”

“What do you—

Sam snaked his right arm around your waist, the soft velvety fabric of your dress ruffling under his sleek suit. He gripped your firmly but not tightly, his hand gently digging into your soft flesh through your thin dress. He smiled…no, smirked (you weren’t sure) down at you.

“That better, pretty young girlfriend?” Your eyes dilated in seconds and you fought to keep your eyes off of his. 

“Y-yea...” You wanted to groan at how small and bashful your voice sounded, you never stuttered. 

“Can you guys feel up each other after we finish this?” Dean’s husky voice sounded in both of your ears a bit muffled but it startled both of you, making you feel almost compromised. Sam loosened his grip on you only slightly, letting out a sigh from his throat that went over your neck and left an intense tingling feeling.

“You wanted us to play the part,” You muttered to Dean after you flipped on your ear piece, a gentle hand on Sam’s chest as you made your way to the bar. 

“yn, can you put on something over your tight ass dress so Sam can frickin focus?” Your mouth dropped open, scoffing and tilting your head to the side in fake offense. 

“Can you stop looking at me and do your job?”

“I am, but it's hard when you two keep eye fucking eachother. Get your drinks, socialize, and distract the remaining family grill ‘em if you can. And please, listen to your ear piece.” Before you can reply, your eyes land on Dean in the crowds of suits and dresses, who is looking at you unamused. You smile, and he rolls his eyes playfully. You knew he wasn’t actually mad, but you also knew you did need to focus. You ordered a drink, Sam looming very close to your back, ordering after you. He slides the bartender his card, taking your drinks and leading you to the back of the room.

“So…you seen them?” You shook your head, knowing he was referring to the family. You scanned the room pointedly, tuning out the music, chatter, and all the bright lights and costly chandeliers in the room, finally spotting the youngest member of the family, Victor Brady, sitting with his mother. His mother had gone ‘missing’ but he never had. Based on your research, you knew the Bradys were rich of course, but you weren't sure the motives of the group of shapeshifters yet. Why were members of the family disappearing then coming back as if nothing happened? Had they really kidnapped some of them? Were the mother and son in front of you really them? How many of them were there?

“Hey, don’t worry,” Sam muttered in your hair, seeming to sense how wired-in to the family your mind was, “Let’s go talk to them. Remember, I am,” he pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, flashing the fake ID Dean had handed him earlier, “Ron Fogerty, son of a wealthy businessman from Canada. And you…” he pointed a finger at your face, then moved it to direct at your purse where your fake ID resided. You pulled it out. 

“Elaina…Clifford? Really? You guys are still using the rock names?” Sam gave you a pointed look, as if saying, it wasn't my idea with his face. 

“No idea how you both don’t get in trouble more often. Anyway, I’m girlfriend, correct? We’re here to support the Brady’s Fundraiser and get to know their youngest.” 

“Bingo. Let’s go before Dean gets on our asses again.” 

Strolling arm in arm to the Brady’s table with fake smiles, you and Sam greeted his mother first, then him

In the Impala, you had told the Winchesters about recent photos of them that had been published in the local paper. The family was known for being wealthy but not unkind; and was regarded highly among those in the city. But, in the photos from the week before, the youngest, Brady, was seen holding a number of odd documents leaving the bank, then making his way in the opposite direction of his family estate. Of course, the photos did not show the small printed lines of whatever secrets he was holding…but his angry, crude expressions in the photos did not match those of the graceful man sitting in front of you.

“This is Elaina, my girlfriend. She’s very interested in wildlife and insisted she spoke to those running the fundraiser.” Sam smiled, his voice calm and collected. You nodded, and Mrs. Brady tapped Sam’s shoulder, asking him something you couldn't make out because her son’s voice was louder, closer to your ears. 

“My name is Victor. Please, sit. It is nice to meet others with a passion for doing good with what they were blessed with.” You turned to see Sam was speaking civilly with Mrs. Brady, seated across from her, and you decided to sit as well. 

“Yes, I…also must say I find this place beautiful. Your family has lived here a while, I hear.”

Victor’s face dropped, his mouth forming a thin line. “We have. But you shouldn't believe everything you hear.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, trying desperately to play the part of a kind, naive woman, when all you really wanted was for him to tell you something, anything that might get you closer to what was going on. 

“Of course not, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” He sighs as you trail off, and that's when you notice the dark crescents of purple under his eyes.

“No, it’s my fault. People have been saying some things, lately, about us, about my father particularly. I do not appreciate men who spread false information.”

“And I do not either, I am actually a journalist back home, Victor. I know the importance of telling a factual story.” That made him relax.

“And I am glad to hear it. My parents don’t understand that whatever they’re doing is making me look like a fool as well.” You furrowed your brows. Whatever they’re doing?

“I’m sorry. It's hard to separate from your parents' identity, especially if they're as well known as yours.” 

“Exactly. I love them, and I love these events, truly, but just because I’m young doesn't mean I won't understand all the things they keep from me.”

“I know wha–

Your words stop stuck in your throat as you feel cold liquid streamed over your legs, your mouth dropping open as the wine made you get goosebumps. You tilted your head up slowly to see…Dean; empty wine glass in his hand, the alcohol now all over your velvet dress. You look up at him with daggers in your eyes, and he already knew he was going to get it later. But the look he gives you after he apologizes and offers you some napkins suddenly makes you aware of his plan.

“So sorry again, miss, here, I’ll take you to wherever the bathroom is and…” Sam is up now, moving closer to you before you widen your eyes at him, and he tilts his head slightly in confusion before Victor speaks up.

“That won't be necessary, I will show her.” You thank him and quickly mutter a, “I’ll be right back, honey,” to Sam, who nods, finally getting what Dean was thinking. You walk away, you hear a few security guards telling Dean rather loudly that he is cut off from the bar. 

You follow Victor, hearing his expensive shoes clacking on the dark wood stairs past a number of guards, ascending until you reach a long, grand hall. He walks to the second door on the right, and you understand that this is his parents bathroom. You can feel your heart beating at a speed you didn't think possible, thanking God that you still had your purse, and the special items inside you needed for a case like this. Victor offered you a few different stain removers, finally offering you a blow dryer for the bottom half of your dress where Dean had probably spilled a hundred dollars worth of wine on you. 

“Excuse me, I’m just going to use the restroom.” Victor points to the very far corner where you see a door at the end, which is around the corner from where you stand. Your plan tumbles around your brain, keeping the blow dryer on the loudest setting as you turn on your ear piece. 

“Alright, I’ll be here,” You say to Victor with a polite smile. He nods, turning the corner as you smirk, your heels already off, hand reaching into your bag as you go through the connecting door to his parents room. It had been a fucking hassle to get the layout of this stupid estate, but if this was the main building, that meant you were in the bathroom next to the master bedroom. Bingo. 

“I’m in the bedroom,” you whisper, nearly out of breath with how fast your heart is beating.

You held your device up to your eye, sending a silent thanks to Bobby for helping you with it. You were booksmart, not handy. You weren’t a great physical hunter and didn’t have a knack for making things; but Bobby did. A couple years ago when you had both worked on a case with Shapeshifters, you’d kept some of the…sheddings, is what you agreed to call it, of two of them when they transformed. The ooze smelled awful and almost glowed once you brought it home. You’d expressed how helpful it would be to detect such ooze, almost like night vision goggles, for hunting shapeshifters. He’d agreed, and after a dozen phone calls and hours searching through his piles of junk and scrap from various cars, created a shedding detecting circle that looked like a single binocular eye.

“The parents? Holy shit, I’m a genius,” Dean’s muffled voice came in your ear.

“You got lucky. And I’m expecting a form of apology when this is over.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I have some ideas. Sure you’d rather get my typa’ apology from Sammy, though.”

“You know I can hear all of this, right?” Sam said, his voice low and quiet in your ear.

“Can you both shut up so I can focus with the two minutes I have up here?”

You quickly spotted a heap of shedding glowing in the far right corner of the room, swiftly going over to see a pile of the ooze, skin, blood, and teeth. You scrunch your face at the smell, but put your left eye through the detector again. It took you a lot longer than you wanted it to, but you found a small trace of it on a cabinet near their bed. Inside, documents with faint traces of the shedding were in your hand in minutes.

“I got something, I’m coming back down,” you mutter, folding the pieces of paper as much as you could, shoving them not so gracefully in your purse when you heard the bathroom door open. 

“Sorry! Wrong way out. I think I’ve nearly had as many drinks as the wine spilling guy.” You giggled, smiling at Victor like he was God’s gift to Earth, hoping he’d buy it. And he did. He smiled politely, washing his hands before leading you out of the bathroom commenting on how, “The stain remover worked quickly, it almost looks as good as new.”

[abbysgolf-club]

Heey - I saw your post about wanting new requests so here we go I guess, I hope you'd like to write this :3

So I'm thinking Vi x Reader where the reader is a total softie / sweetheart who also lives in zaun. She has a crush on vi and vi knows about it but never really requited it. Or so she thought - one night the reader gets hit on by some scetchy dudes, it doesn't End well and she gets hurt (if you feel comfortable writing this of course!!). Vi sees all of this, kinda saves the reader and realizes that she has a lot more feelings for this lil softie than she thought. Maybe with heavy making out in the End <3

s3xual assault themes (it doesn't happen), pet names (cupcake, baby etc), not proof read, kinda rushed sorry if it's bad 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

MDNI

You were sat in the bar, having your usual, a dirty dr pepper; minding your own business until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"Hey there, pretty girl. Can i sit?" a man's voice rang through your ears, sending a shiver down your spine.

"go for it.." you muttered, sipping your drink and allowing him to sit next to you. It didn't take long for his hand to slither its way onto your leg. You didn't say anything at first out of fear, he might just be doing it in a friendly way?

You shuffled uncomfortably in your seat, trying to shake his hand off you. it didn't budge. "Hey, dude. do you mind..?" you asked him, kinda hoping he'd get the hint and get the fuck off you.

"What's the matter baby? Are you being ungrateful?" he smirked, trailing his hand further up your thigh. "Tell me baby, tell me this is what you want."

You froze, unable to do anything. panicking, you chucked your drink on him, hoping he'd back up. spoiler alert, he didn't.

"Ooh, feisty. i like it." he chuckled, his voice low and sultry. "Give into me. You know you want to." his grip on your thigh tightening.

"Get off of me, please!" You tried to fight out of his grip, but failed. Tears formed in your eyes as he got closer and closer to what he wants, your protests, pleads and tears didn't stop him. If anything it pushed him to do it more.

"Dude, can't you see she doesn't want you near her!?" A familiar voice called out from a few feet away. "Get off of her." the voice continued, the person stepping closer. it was vi.

The guys hand stayed on your thigh, his grasp almost painful. "And who are you to stop me?" he challenged, allowing her to get closer and closer to the two of you.

Vi rolled her eyes, throwing a hit at the guy groping you. "You heard me. leave her alone, man" she raised her voice a little, getting up close and personal in the guys face. "Get out of here" she spat, raising her fist to punch the guy again. before she got the chance to get another hit, he scrambled off, his grip on your thigh finally leaving aswell as him.

Vi watched him leave, the look of frustration and anger leaving to become more of an empathetic look along with something else you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"You okay, cupcake? he didn't hurt you did he?" Her voice was soft and calm as she held your hand cautiously.

"I'm okay, just glad he left." you smiled softly, the feeling of that guys hand still lingering on your thigh. "Thank you." you blushed, you'd had a crush on Vi for as long as you could remember. Her saving you from a pervy guy added to that crush. dramatically.

"No worries cupcake, always here to help." She smirked, pulling you up out of your seat. "How 'bout we get out of here, yeah?" she asked, her hand interlocking with yours as she guided you out of the bar and into a dimly lit alleyway.

You followed her out into the alleyway, hugging her after she leaned up against the wall. "Woah cupcake, you all good?" her voice shocked, but comforting as she wrapped her arms around your waist, embracing the hug.

"Yeah.. thank you, for stopping that guy. who knows what coulda happened" you murmured into the crook of her neck, taking in her scent as you did.

"Don't worry about it, anyone woulda done the same." she hummed, trying to act nonchalant and not being too successful. Her face was a little pink and her voice a little wobbly.

Her hand reached up to your face to look at you before she pulled you into a soft kiss, gentle and loving.

You pulled back for a second, taking a breath before smashing your lips against hers. Your tongues exploring eschothers mouths. you couldn't believe this was happening.

[volturiprincess]

Hiii I saw that your requests are open! If it’s okay, can I please request a Demetri x fem!human!reader where the mate pull between them is so strong (even though they haven’t met) that she has been having dreams about him and unconsciously finds her way in Volterra (like she honestly doesn’t remember how she got to Italy in the first place, it was like a mind out of body experience for her) and goes up to Heidi (who is out looking for tourists to join the “tour”) and Y/n’s like, “Do you know where I can find Demetri Volturi?” And Heidi is like “???” Because this little human somehow knows who a Volturi guard is asking for him and desperately wants to see him?? If Dem had the ability to cry, he would be sobbing when Heidi brings his sweet mate to him🥹Awww and as soon as she sees him she knows exactly who he is and calls out to him 🥹

Also I feel like Marcus would be absolutely fascinated about how strong their bond is, and Aro would be fascinated by Y/n herself because she has to be gifted in some way with how she unconsciously found her way to Demetri with the dreams she had been having

Never Be The Same

Demetri Volturi x human fem reader Warnings: None A/N: I apologize for the very long wait, I hope this makes up for it though. Weirdly I manage to write this in 2.5 days, which is kind of fast even for me, i mostly wrote it late at night because thats when the real inspiration came through. My first finished request of the year also. But.... Enjoy💙 Word Count: 2323 (that is so satisfying)

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

“It can be you and I forever….what do you say?”

I wanted to scream out yes but he started to dissolve, he was fading away. No please come back…

I woke up from the dream with a thin layer of sweat, grabbing my bottle of water, I drowned it down. Fuck I cant believe it was a dream. It seemed so real. He’s been in my dreams for the past couple of months now, is he even a real person? He seems too perfect to exist, but everything that has happened in the dreams are so specific, and I have the same dream every night too where I see him and we just hang out and talk. It's almost like an out of body experience. 

We talk to each other just like I would in the waking world, full of conversations, it's come to a  point where I feel like I know everything there is to know about him. I get out of my bed and walk out to my little balcony in the little place I rented for the month. Volterra Italy…I don't even remember how I got here but here I am. Demetri mentioned he lives here, wondering where he is?

I let a cold breeze hit my face as I grip the beautifully crafted railing, as I thought over where to start my search for him. Such a small town and no sighting of him yet. I have only been here for a week so far but I'm already growing a bit impatient. What if he is not here?

I get ready for the day and head out for my search for him. I remember in one of my dreams that Demetri mentioned he is a tracker, he did not specify what he tracked but he said he was the best in the world. Wish I could track. I ended up wandering around the town when I found a big fountain, it's so entrancing the way the water sprouts out. I sit by it as I debate what to do next, there's not much I can do unless…

I see the most gorgeous woman to ever grace this earth at a distance, I must be in heaven because she is an angel. I get this feeling that I need to approach her, like she is the one who will give me all the answers to my questions. Maybe she will know where I can find Demetri. I walk over to her as she turns to face me, she gives me a breathtaking smile as she quickly skims me.

“Posso aiutarla?”

I take a minute to try to understand what she said but my Italian is so rusty, those years of learning Italian in High School went out the window immediately.

“Sorry my Italian is super rusty, do you speak English?”

She gave me a sheepish smile but nodded.

“Well of course, I am well educated in multiple languages, I am Heidi, how may I help you?”

Just with the way she talks is leaving me in a trance, I'm forgetting my whole purpose of why I needed to talk to her. Wait, why do I have to talk to her? Think, think, think. Oh right, Demetri!

“Do you know where I can find Demetri Volturi”

Her smile dropped and it contoured to a look of pure confusion, her head tilted slightly with her gaze turning to one of puzzled in a matter of milliseconds. Have I said something wrong? I don't like how she's looking at me now, I feel myself squirm under her gaze. 

“How do you know of him?”

“Wait, he's actually real?”

Her eyebrows furrowed now as she kept staring at me.

“He is…but your didn't answer my question cara”

“I well…would you believe me if I said I been dreaming of him?”

“Humans sure are strange beings, have you ever actually met him in person?”

“No”

“Who told you he would be here?”

“He did”

“How?”

“He told me he lives in Volterra, Italy”

“I cannot phantom how this is even possible, so you're telling me, Demetri told you where he is via dream and you never meet him but you know who he is?”

I nod, I know this sounds crazy now that she says it out loud but it is the truth, I would have to be mental to come up with such a story, maybe I am. I don't even remember how I got here to start off with.

“Is he here?”

“...Yes but he is busy currently”

“When will he be free?”

“I'm not sure, when he trains it is never known how long he will take”

“I don't mean to be rude or anything but is there a way you could get him to come here, I would like to meet him”

She still had a confused look on her beautiful face.

“I still cannot wrap my mind how a human like you knows a volturi guard and knows where we live too, what are the odds it would be Demetri?”

“What do you mean by that? Is he a bad person or something because I can tell you in my dreams he was an absolutely sweetheart, I have never meet such a sweet man in my whole life”

“Yes he is a sweetheart, I didn't mean to imply he is a bad person he's the opposite I just meant what are the odds the only guard who does not have a mate might have found them in a strange way”

“Mate?”

“You will be told about them once we figure out if you are his mate”

“And if I'm not?”

“Well lets just say you came at a bad time for the Volturi, our feeding time is soon”

I shivered slightly at the remark, feeding time? Why would that be a bad thing? Is it not just dinner or I guess it would be lunch since it is early afternoon. Or unless they are very private about their dinner time that they don't have guests? There's something off but I hope I can meet Demetri soon. I wonder how he will react. Will he know who I am? Does he have the same dreams as I? Or have our dreams been like walking dreams where he comes into mine? 

My curiosity is interrupted when Heidi mentions something that peaks my interest

“I will see if he can spare a minute or two but I will guarantee you that the possibility of that happening is low, please just wait by the fountain”

I nod as she walks away, even her walk is so entrancing, does she even have any flaws? I take my previous spot by the fountain as I wait for them. I hope the odds are in my favor and I do get to meet him. Will he be exactly like in my dreams, the way he acts and talks. I felt that sudden anxiety rise in me, what if I disappoint him in a way. He's literally the handsomest man to ever walk upon this earth, he does not belong in this world with the beauty he carries.

I felt my heart beat a bit faster the longer I waited for them to return, I have never felt so nervous before. I wanted to throw up but I tried my best to stay calm. Deep breaths…in…out…in…out. Okay that's working, I feel less stressed but my thoughts are still running wild. Seconds felt like minutes, minutes turned to hours, hours then felt like weeks. What if he is refusing to meet me or he is really busy. 

I hate how my mind suddenly thinks of all the worst case scenarios to ever exist when nothing bad has happened. Yet at that moment, my breath was hitched, the world stopped moving, nothing could be heard but footsteps who I can already assume who they belonged to. I felt an invisible force tilt my head to the side to be met with a dark clothed figure standing at the entrance of a doorway that could only be described as an entrance to a museum. He would be the statue that millions of people would travel all around the world to gaze at. It would be a blessing of a masterpiece.

Am I in one of my dreams with him in it? It certainly feels like it but my raw emotions I have right now feels true and physical. He walked over to me and I swear I saw flowers sprout at each step he took, his eyes maintained contact with mine. His eyes held so much expression that I could read each emotion he was feeling. When he stood in front of me his arm extended to pull me up and into his chest. His arms wrapped around me loosely as the desire to breathe again was nowhere, my hand went up to rest on his cheek to make sure he was physically here. 

He is here, this is no dream because if it were the minute I touched him he would have dissolved into my delusions. 

“Your real”

His smile could have brightened a whole room alone without needing actual light. 

“I certainly hope I am, I can't believe I have finally found you”

“You've been waiting for me?”

“For centuries now”

I ran the same hand that was on his cheek through his blonde locks as his eyes closed. We felt like we were in our own little bubble of paradise, everything was still and quiet which at this moment felt right. I saw his skin give a little sparkle which was strange but it made him seem more ethereal, it was made clear he is not human but to me that does not matter to me because all I want is him. 

When his eyes opened they seemed darker as they were shimmering slightly with unshed tears. He looked so precious that I had the strong desire to engulf him in a deep hug that would hide him from the world. He gave me a weak smile as he guided me to where he came from, he held me as if I were a porcelain doll. 

“I will introduce you to my masters, they would like to meet you since a certain person decided to let the whole castle know I found my mate”

“So I am your mate?”

He stopped walking to look straight into my eyes, into my soul.

“Do you not feel how we are gravitating toward one another? You are my moon as I am the ocean. I have never felt this feeling in the centuries I have been around, I finally feel complete with you here” 

Breathless he leaves me. His words are better than any love song I have ever heard, no artist can come close to being more romantic than him. Even after every dream I had of him, I would wake up with the same reaction. We eventually arrived at a room where three figures sitting in thrones were at. These must be the masters that Demetri mentioned, next to me and Demetri was a mountain of a man. I had to crane my neck at an angle to look up at him, and even then I almost couldn't see his face because his shoulder was blocking the side view of his face. 

“So she found you? This little human found you?”

“She did Master”

“And she’s truly human?”

“Yes she is, can you not see the color in her cheeks”

I kind of just stood there awkwardly as they spoke of me as if I weren't there but Demetri made me feel comfortable with the way he still had me in his arms. 

“But how did she come to find you?”

Everyone turned to look at me the same way Heidi did when I asked about Demetri, which resulted in me to squirm. The blonde one spoke up which made me almost jump out of my skin.

“Speak human”

Demetri got a bit tense but spoke up for me. What a gentleman…

“Master please, don't you see your frightening her, please don't raise your voice to my mate”

Oh my, so polite and protective. The way his voice got soft as he spoke made my heart melt. I gained confidence from how he defended me that I finally spoke up.

“I'm not sure how I ended up in Italy or how I got here but all I can say is I would have dreams about Demetri which then lead me here somehow, its difficult to explain but I just knew I had to find him even if I was not sure if he was real or not”

The third master who has not spoken in the whole time we've been here finally stood up and walked over to me and Demetri. He moved so slowly that I felt as if he walked faster he would turn to dust and vanish.

“You confound me dear one but I have never seen such a strong bond between mates. I hope with time we can figure out how this was able to happen because I am fascinated by this”

I nodded but suddenly relaxed a bit in Demetris arms. The one who seemed to be the main guy to run this whole place clapped loudly with a laugh to follow it. I wanted to cringe slightly but I felt that would be disrespectful to do so, so I bit my tongue.

“I think she might be gifted, oh the joy this brings me, our own Demetri has found his mate and she is gifted, a joyous day it is indeed”

The smile that Demetri gave me was like a sudden beam of sunlight illuminating the darkest corners of the room. I never knew he was the sunshine I needed in life, I think I'm going to love spending forever with him. 

[thomaslittlegirl]

nightmare. cillian murphy

cillian was seeing his personal assistant.

your head felt hot and about to explode. this couldn't happen, it couldn't be happening to you. not to you.

your chest closed and prevented you from breathing. murphy only looked at you with sad eyes, but not sorry for what had happened.

"we have to break up." he asked, and it all sounded unreal.

were you worth so little in his life?

your heart seemed like it was going to burst out at any moment from the anguish, the metallic taste in your mouth making everything worse.

"love... love... LOVE!"

when you wake up you take a breath of fresh air, feeling suffocated. it seems like your lungs haven't received air in hours.

your heart beats in your throat.

"are you okay?" cillian asks with concern. his face has a panicked expression you've never seen before.

you swallow and try to respond but only a pained gasp escapes your mouth. the man leans in front of you and caresses your cheek while looking at you carefully.

everything feels so unreal that his touch reminds you that this is reality, this is your life.

"are you here with me?" he asks again; his blue eyes watching your reaction.

you carefully nod, feeling the sting of tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. "i'm here."

murphy nods and swallows nervously at your state, letting out a long sigh.

"i had the worst nightmare of my life." you say. he looks at you, frowning.

"what did you dream?" he asks curiously.

you swallow and sit up in bed, hair tickling your shoulders annoyingly.

"you... you left me..." you speak slowly. cillian watches you quietly, watching the tears fall from your eyes.

a lump appears in your throat.

"i... left you?"

you nod, pouting at him. you feel so sad that you want to shelter in his arms until there is no evidence of the nightmare you just had.

"you left me." you confirm. cillian caresses your thigh lovingly, listening to you. "you said we couldn't be together... that the difference in our ages was starting to get in the way and you couldn't deal with it."

that topic was something that often affected them both. each time the differences were more noticeable between the two; it was something that tormented you, the fact that you two were in completely different stages of your lives, the fact that people commented on it as freely as if either of you had asked for advice.

it was a topic that tortured you, but you both always knew how to solve it like the two adults you were.

"also, you... you told me that you were seeing someone else... that..." you try to speak, feeling the lump in your throat worsen. now it was difficult for you to even swallow saliva, much less speak. "... that you were... in love with someone else..."

your husband notices how it's getting harder and harder for you to maintain your composure and knows what he has to do: cillian knows he has to reassure you that everything was a horrible nightmare and that you are everything he wants.

he knows that you need his sweet words to calm you down and prevent you from having an attack.

the man takes your face in both of his hands and caresses your cheeks gently.

"love..." he begins, his light blue eyes soften and he looks at you with an expression full of calm. "it was just a dream, okay?" he promise, caressing your soft skin. "there is no woman in this world that would make me leave you... i would never look at anyone with the eyes that i look at you... much less at someone who works for me, much less at my damn assistant."

oh...

oh.

your eyes widen in terror and you tense under his touch. your mouth becomes so dry that it seems like you haven't had any fluids in days.

cillian notices your expression and lets go of your face, biting his lip.

"you never told me it was about her, did you?"

you shake your head, realization falling on you like a bucket of ice water.

. . .

request by this sweetheart <3

[doumadono]

sorry if this sounds rude 😢 but you haven’t been posting a lot of stories lately and that’s like the only thing you have to do? just post something it’s not that big of a deal? dygwim? i think fanfic writers especially on the anime side like to exaggerate things too much and if you don’t post then just deactivate? there’s no point in staying if you’re not gonna do anything but reblog silly content all the time? i don't understand how so many ppl can follow you when you are not even trying to be grateful and you only write not what people request but what you find interesting (which is not, like vampier Shigaraki???? viking Dabi???? so silly stupid ideas imo 😒)? whoever finds your writing or you as a person nice is either blind or stupid. and even if you write something chaptered it takes you literally months to update which isn't fair to people?? but I guess you don't care at all. you must be a freaking entitled white woman to treat otherz the way you do.

(again sorry, didn't mean to sound rude) 😔

When I first read your message, I was completely speechless for a minute or two, anon.

Firstly, it seems there’s a misconception about what fanfiction writers, or any creative individuals for that matter, have to do. Let me clarify something important: creativity isn’t a tap that one can simply turn on and off at will. It’s a complex, often unpredictable process that cannot be rushed without compromising the integrity and quality of the work. Quality stories often require research, plotting, editing, and revising before they’re ready to share. My creative process isn’t a fast food joint, nonnie, and I'm not here to serve up reheated ideas just to fill the silence.

My blog belongs to no one but me. I post what I want, when I want. As for the content of my stories, I believe every writer has the right to explore subjects that excite them the most - even if that means delving into topics or settings others may find odd, like vampires or vikings. My goal is to write stories I’m passionate about and then offer them freely to anyone who might find them entertaining. Some people will, others won’t, and that’s absolutely okay.

Contrary to your belief, I don't exist solely to churn out stories at the speed you dictate. I write on my own time and for my own pleasure. The notion that I should be a content machine is, frankly, laughable. Writing takes time, creative energy, and often real-life circumstances can slow the process. I post when I’m ready, and if that doesn’t align with your desired schedule, you’re free to unfollow or seek out other writers who update more frequently. Suggesting I deactivate because I’m not constantly posting or because I reblog content I enjoy is dismissive at best. I'm not a streaming service like Netflix, darling🙄

Calling me an entitled white woman or implying I’m ungrateful crosses a line. You know nothing of my background or personal circumstances, and bringing race or entitlement into the conversation is neither accurate nor constructive. My ethnicity or personal identity, whatever it may be, does not diminish the value of my creative output, nor does it affect my commitment to my followers. I appreciate every person who visits my page - whether they come to enjoy what I reblog, to read stories I post or to offer critique.

It's also laughable that you think my followers are stupid. Just because their tastes don't align with yours doesn't make them any less intelligent. Diversity in fandoms exists because creativity resonates differently with everyone, something you seem incapable of recognizing.

In the end, I won’t apologize for taking the time I need to create or for following my own interests - that’s part of being a writer. I do, however, expect basic respect in return. If you can’t extend that courtesy, I hope you'll block me, step away from my blog, and never interact with any of my content again.

With all this in mind, it's precisely why I've stopped taking regular requests. Last year, I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of requests and the rudeness in many messages, pushing me to my limits. That's why I've decided to concentrate on my own projects and only accept commissioned work.

I'm taking a few days off to gather my thoughts and concentrate on my writing projects.

[nownahc]

3 with Lee Know pls!! 🥺🥺

shame | lee know

lee know x reader

main masterlist

prompts list send in an ask to request

▶• ılıılıılılıılıılı. i miss you, i'm sorry by gracie abrams

notes. super short drabble I'm sorry, I just instantly thought of this when I read the prompt, and I couldn't get my mind off of this idea...

warnings. ANGST

prompts. “I’m not jealous.”

It had been years now. Years seen he saw your face, heard your voice, smell your perfume, waited for your texts, talked to you. Still, it also has been years since he's been thinking of you non stop. Of what happened, and could have happened. So, when his best friend tells him he saw you earlier in a random shop, it feels like another stab in the heart. The painful reminder that you disapeared from his life, but you're still living in others.

He doesn't ask if you're okay or, what you looked like for he doesn't want to know. He doesn't want to know that you might have not been thinking about him daily like he does. Doesn't want to know if you're happy, otherwise guilt would eat at him for being miserable. Doesn't want to know if you found someone you could love back, otherwise shame would devour him for still not knowing how to be that person. It's not like he hadn't tried back then, to be that person, and you had tried too, to love him back. The heart doesn't choose though, and as painful as it was, you had chosen to let him go entirely. At the time, both of you had thought of this to be the best thing to do, he could forget about entirely, and you didn't have to live with the guilt of not reciprocating his feelings. Yet, it didn't help, not one bit, and he didn't want to know if you stopped feeling guilty. As selfish as it was, he liked to imagine that, by being distant, a stranger again in his life, you'd find him for the second time in his life, and this time your feelings would match his.

This same friend though, tells him about your new significant other concerned about his state of mind, Minho feel numb. He felt jealous, jealous of his friend, of the people who can live their days knowing you're in their life, jealous of his past self before his confession, jealous of his future self who he wishes finally moved on. Right now though, he has to live in this constant sadness, melanchily of knowing something dear to him slipped between his fingers.

So when his friend ask him how he's taking the news, Minho's answer matches a question his friend hadn't even asked. Perhaps, he was reassuring himself instead.

“I’m not jealous.”

[aphroditeinthesea]

Can you write Connor x reader?

Context: a bunch of campers were playing truth or dare, and to came to Percy to ask someone and he asked reader to kiss the hottest person in the room, so she kissed Connor.

“ sweet relief ”

connor stoll x fem!reader 🐍

request

⚠️ swears

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Why were you here? No, no, no. Not here. Not physically at least. But why were you here. Staring face to face with the son of Poseidon as he asked you the dumbest question in the world.

“Kiss the hottest person in the room.”

Sure. You knew the answer. You knew given any chance you were to kiss the boy next to you. The boy who was currently staring at you to give an answer.

“You don't have to, Y/N,” the curly blonde at Percy’s side spoke.

“No, I will,” you replied, taking a breath, “I just- I’m thinking.”

You looked down at your hands. How closely one of them lingered on the floor to Connor’s. It was dangerously close. One twitch and they could be touching. You were second guessing the deodorant you put on from how much you were sweating.

But everyone was waiting on you. Everyone stared at you. You were making this a bigger deal than it had to be. You could've been done with this minutes ago. You could’ve just smooched the boy and got over it. So this was it.

“Connor.”

Eye contact. Good start.

He looked up at you like a deer in headlights. His blue eyes watching you.

“Yeah?”

You sighed, “I'm gonna kiss you,” you whispered. Stupid start. Fuck.

He, on the other hand, thought you were about to start laughing in his face. Sike! Not you, Stoll.

You leaned slightly closer to him, before stopping again, “sorry, I don't know how,”

But everything was darker. There was softness on your mouth. You felt like you just finished a 10,000 piece puzzle. Your face was being squished by gentle hands.

Then it was over. Eyes on the two of you now.

“Connor,”

“Was that okay?”

You never nodded so fast. “It was, yeah, it was great,” you looked down, “I mean not great, wait, no, not not great.”

“It’s okay,” he grinned.

You looked around at everyone, then back at him. That's when you realized your hands were touching. Did you do that? Did he?

“Conn, can we talk, uhm, outside?”

“Wait, you have to dare someone,” Percy mentioned.

“Right, right, uhm,” you huffed, “Connor, truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

You were already beginning to stand up, “I dare you to come outside with me.” And before the boy could answer you were dragging him outside.

You closed the door behind you. He made his way to stand in front of you. Both hands now touching. Okay, yeah, that's cool.

“Connor, I actually really wanted to tell you,” the soft blue skies watching you didn't help with your nervousness, “I actually have like a major crush on you.”

There they were again. The soft pillows against your lips. Gods, somehow they were even better this time. Now, his hands found your waist, pulling you closer and closer. Instivinely, your hands touched his jaw. You couldn't help the smile on your face and the giggles that followed.

He slightly pulled away, a smile mirroring yours, “what?”

“Nothing,” you answered, your faces still so, so close. “I really like you.”

“I really like you, too.”

You pecked his lips again, “good to know, Stoll.”

So the next few hours were a blur of lips touching lips, hands touching hands, and skin touching skin.

[amatsuchan-eiliniel]

Okay so I guess I should talk since there's apparently 101 people not knowing a thing about this.

I know, you're going to think "Amatsu still has drama????" And yes I have.

See, there's this ex-moot I used to talk to regularly. You may see posts about them, about their OCs, some requests, some Cheshire Rabbit (if you don't see the person, there's some sort of Cheshire Rabbit asks where they figure on). The thing is they created an OC/Alter up on someone real and his OC, taking informations on this OC to create theirs (they're still different, but it still is copying.) This OC is also shipped with Deuce, SURPRISINGLY, while my friend's OC is, guess what! Shipped with Deuce. Let's have a reminder of what is copying.

They talked about us breaking their boundaries without even thinking of ours, they claimed being "anxious" about the whole thing for, what, one hour? While me and my friend (the one whose OC has been copied) were anxious about this situation for months. They didn't care about our boundaries, in fact I'm sure they never did and hide themselves behind their disorders to make us look like the shittiest persons on Earth. I tried to not break their boundaries, except they broke mine multiple times, and when I broke theirs, suddenly it was an object of blocking each other. I didn't say anything when they broke mine. But me? Beaking theirs? Hell nah, I needed to be banned and blocked, apparently. And so it went the same for my friend.

My friend suffered so much because of this situation for years, unable to join the community again, because lies have been told, they were copying OCs, breaking boundaries, hiding themselves behind disorders to make us all feel like shit. They even blocked a friend who was worried for them.

They said they would wait for me until I finished my work on myself to be a better person in our relationship, they accepted, but blocked me recently for no reasons.

Finally, they're part of a server which was created againt my friend, in his back, only because "his server was shitty because he was in it.". This person has no respect for anyone, and please be careful.

This is not a hating call-out. This is a warning, please don't spread hate. If you're uncomfortable with this person, just block and move on with your life.

I'm tagging here moots I think they know about that person, just so you know what's going on. Some of you did requests for them.

@cheerleaderman @offorestsongs @treydia @frillve @gl00myb3arz @jewelulu @viperbunnies @blanketorghost @elenauaurs @oya-oya-okay (I'm so sorry for tagging you if it makes you uncomfortable!)

Note: Their name start with a K, or an A depending on where you find them. That's all I can say on this post, because, you know, I'm a bad person /j.

[bi-writes]

Hi b!!

This isn’t a request, this is just me venting in a way so you don't have to read this or even reply.

I'm literally so over men because me and this guy have been dating for 8 years...8 YEARSS. And he chooses to cheat on me with my CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND?!!!?!?!?!?

And his reason was "you don't want to have kids with me" .... HO WHAT?!

Like I'm 23, and I'm busy. I'm studying anesthesiology. WHAT DOES HE WANT ME TO DO?! I can't bring a kid into the world when I know for a fact that I'm going to be too busy to spend time with them. I'm also not financially stable enough or mentally ready for it

And it's not like he would be able to look after the kid either. He's too busy going to fucking parties and getting drunk. Probably was getting a shag from other girls too now that I think about it.

Like can this man not get it into his big, fat, stupid head that I've given up every bit of comfort for him. I lost my virginity at 16 for him. I didn't want to , I wanted to stay a virgin until I was in my twenties (Not shaming anyone for losing their virginity early, it's just a preference for me) but he kept pushing and pushing

I genuinely want to punch him. And he had the nerve to cry?!

And guess what my best friend told me!!!! "Don't be so hurt, you're infertile so you would've disappointed him either way. I can Atleast give him something he wants" ouch

LIKE HUH

What am I supposed to do?!

I don't know if I should feel hurt, angry, happy or sad or whatever. I've been with this man for nearly a decade and most of my teenage years. I was literally planning on marrying him.

He was literally all I knew. I don't even know who I am!!

sounds like the universe trashed some nasty people for you.

i think you would very much find reneé rapp's "tummy hurts" very relatable LMAO.

that is so terrible, and i am so sorry that happened to you. i think you're a very responsible and very determined person, and i applaud you for putting yourself first. i say the same thing--where i am right now in my life, i don't want kids. and if my life stays this way, i won't want kids.

now if my future husband ends up being some multi-millionaire and my lifestyle doesn't have to change? sure, i'd think about it. but it's just not realistic for me, and it would do me more harm than good.

i think you are so intelligent and so focused, and you need to surround yourself with people like-minded. i think the only thing you lost here are things that were weighing you down. i'm not going to tell you it doesn't suck and that it won't hurt, because being very sad is totally understandable, but it just sounds to me like it was definitely for the better.

bless that you didn't waste 9+ years on this terrible man. onto the next (or maybe not, i get that too lol). <3

[flowerchild28]

On tour

Louis Tomlinson imagine

Warnings: fluff

1.4k

"I'm so sorry I haven’t posted much lately, but I have a few stories lined up that I'll be sharing this week! I also finally have some time to work on your requests, so feel free to send them in. For now, here's the story based on the survey I posted a few months ago—I hope you enjoy it!"

The lights of Paris sparkled like a sea of fireflies beneath the night sky as the Faith in the Future Tour made its grand stop in the City of Light. The Eiffel Tower stood tall in the distance, its golden glow casting a warm halo over the Seine. Louis Tomlinson’s tour bus had just pulled up to the Accor Arena, and the hum of the crowd was already palpable even from backstage. Louis loved this part of the journey—the pre-show buzz, the adrenaline, and the thought that tonight, he’d leave another piece of himself on stage.

By his side, as she had been throughout the entire tour, was Y/N. She wasn’t just Louis’s partner; she was his anchor, his best friend, and the person who brought a calm sense of normalcy to the often chaotic world of touring. Y/N had been an integral part of the journey, not just as emotional support but as someone who genuinely loved experiencing every moment with him.

The two had arrived in Paris late the night before, exhausted but exhilarated. Louis had insisted on a quick walk along the Seine before calling it a night, despite Y/N’s playful complaints about her sore feet. He had pulled her close, kissed her cheek, and said, “You’ll thank me for this tomorrow.”

Now, backstage at the Accor Arena, Y/N sat cross-legged on the couch in Louis’s dressing room, fiddling with her camera. She loved documenting the tour—not for social media or any grand purpose, but for the little scrapbook she’d started when the tour began. It was filled with candid shots of Louis, the crew, the fans, and the breathtaking cities they visited. Tonight, she planned to capture the magic of Paris.

Louis walked in, already dressed in his tour outfit: a sleek black jacket and his signature trousers. His eyes lit up when he saw her.

“Still playing paparazzi, are you?” he teased, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

“Someone has to document this chaos,” Y/N replied with a grin, tilting the camera to snap a picture of him mid-smirk. “And you look too good not to capture.”

He chuckled, sitting beside her. “You ready for tonight?”

Y/N nodded, her excitement matching his. She had been to every show so far, and yet, each one felt like the first. “Are you ready?” she asked, nudging him gently.

“Always,” Louis replied, his voice steady with determination. “But tonight… tonight feels special. Paris always does.”

Just then, Oli, Louis’s best friend and trusted confidant, popped his head into the dressing room. “You two lovebirds ready? Max says five minutes till go-time. The crowd’s insane tonight.”

Louis grinned. “We’re ready. And don’t call us lovebirds.”

Oli laughed, stepping inside. “Fine. Dynamic duo, then. Seriously, though, Y/N, how are you holding up? It’s got to be exhausting keeping up with this one.”

“Hey!” Louis protested, feigning offense.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “I’m doing fine. Louis makes it easy… most of the time.” She shot him a teasing look.

“I heard that,” Louis said, smirking. He turned to Oli. “What about you? You’ve been running around like mad today.”

“Yeah, but it’s worth it,” Oli replied. “The setup looks amazing, and the crowd… mate, they’re already singing your name.”

Louis’s expression softened. “They never fail to amaze me. Honestly, it’s them that keep me going.”

Oli nodded. “Well, let’s make sure they get a show they’ll never forget. See you out there.”

As Oli left, Louis turned back to Y/N, giving her hand a squeeze. “Come on. Let’s make some memories.”

The arena was electric. Thousands of fans waved their phones in the air, their screens illuminating the space like a galaxy of stars. Y/N stood at the side of the stage, her camera in hand, as Louis stepped into the spotlight. The roar of the crowd was deafening, a wave of love and excitement crashing over him.

The opening chords of “The Greatest” filled the air, and Louis launched into the performance with all the energy he had. Y/N couldn’t help but beam with pride. He was in his element, connecting with the crowd in a way that felt both intimate and powerful. She snapped photo after photo, capturing his every movement, every smile, every moment of pure joy.

Between songs, Louis spoke to the crowd, his accent thick and endearing. “Paris! You lot are incredible tonight,” he said, earning an ear-splitting cheer. “This city always feels like magic to me. Maybe it’s the lights, maybe it’s the love. Either way, let’s make this a night we won’t forget.”

Y/N’s heart swelled. She knew how much this meant to him. Louis’s fans were his world, and he gave them everything he had, night after night. It was one of the things she admired most about him.

As the show progressed, Y/N found herself lost in the music. She sang along to every word, danced along with the crowd, and cheered louder than anyone else. Louis caught her eye more than once, sending her a wink or a playful grin that made her cheeks flush. He even dedicated a song to her, his voice softening as he said, “This one’s for someone who makes every day on this tour better than the last.”

When the final notes of “Silver Tongues” rang out, the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. Louis bowed, his gratitude evident in the way he held his hand over his heart. As he walked off stage, he headed straight for Y/N, his face flushed and his hair damp with sweat.

“How was that?” he asked, slightly out of breath.

“You were incredible,” Y/N said, throwing her arms around him. “You always are.”

Oli appeared behind them, clapping Louis on the back. “Absolutely smashed it, mate. The energy tonight was next level.”

“Thanks, man,” Louis said, smiling. “And thanks for everything you do. Couldn’t do it without you.”

“You’d be lost without me,” Oli joked, earning a laugh from both Louis and Y/N.

After the show, the crew had planned a small celebration at a nearby rooftop bar overlooking the Eiffel Tower. Paris deserved a proper toast, after all. Louis, Y/N, and Oli arrived together, the cool night air brushing against their skin.

The rooftop was stunning, adorned with twinkling lights and offering a breathtaking view of the city. The Eiffel Tower glittered in the distance, a beacon of romance and wonder. Louis and Y/N found a quiet corner, while Oli mingled with the crew.

Louis poured them each a glass of champagne, handing one to Y/N. “To Paris,” he said, raising his glass.

“To Paris,” she echoed, clinking her glass against his.

They sipped their drinks in comfortable silence, taking in the beauty around them. Y/N couldn’t help but snap a few more photos, capturing the way the city lights reflected in Louis’s eyes. He laughed, playfully swatting at her camera.

“You’re relentless,” he teased.

“And you love it,” she shot back, sticking out her tongue.

Louis’s expression softened. “Yeah, I do.”

Oli wandered over, holding a plate of desserts. “You two look disgustingly cute, you know that?” he said, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, I’ve got profiteroles. Anyone want some?”

Y/N laughed. “Always.”

They spent the rest of the evening talking, laughing, and soaking in the magic of Paris. As the night wore on, Louis took Y/N’s hand and led her to the edge of the rooftop. The Eiffel Tower loomed before them, its lights shimmering like diamonds.

“Dance with me,” he said suddenly, setting his glass down.

Y/N blinked. “Here? Now?”

“Why not?” Louis grinned, pulling her close. “No music, no crowd. Just us.”

She laughed but didn’t protest, letting him wrap his arms around her. They swayed gently, the world around them fading away. It didn’t matter that there was no music; the rhythm of their hearts was enough.

For a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in Paris, the only two people in the world. Louis leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Y/N’s lips.

“Thank you for being my constant,” he whispered. “Through all of this.”

Tears pricked at Y/N’s eyes, but she smiled. “Always,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

The night stretched on, the city’s magic wrapping around them like a warm embrace. As they stood there, dancing under the Parisian sky, Y/N realized that this—the music, the love, the adventure—was the kind of memory they’d hold onto forever. And in that moment, it felt like the Faith in the Future Tour was just as much a journey of the heart as it was a celebration of music.

[ellie-s-list]

Forget Me Not

Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Ah... I have not written anything on this blog for two years. It's weird that the last thing I posted was an Ellie Williams one shot since I started with Anime and MHA. However, I don't think the writing was actually bad.

And now I'm back with a Spencer Reid one-shot.

Authors Note: HIGHLY self-indulgent. I do not care. I'm writing what I want to read and maybe, just maybe, using these characters to try to heal inner trauma. If you say or have any criticisms I'm open but do not attack the obvious signs of mental health issues in this one shot. It's me. It's a self-insert. I'M NOT SORRY. But I am, please like it, and I hope that if anyone feels the same way I do that you one day find peace.

WARNINGS: Anxiety, rumination, mentions of self-deprecating thoughts, past trauma, and over all the reader has poor view of self and a poor outlook on life. Mentions parts of Avoidant Personality Disorder, shows that within the text.

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

Powder blue in color, star in shape, and yellow centered. These flowers are known as Forget Me Nots, known for the meaning of true love and respect, representing a promise of remembrance from the giver. It’s not like you don’t think you would ever get flowers in such a way, but you also know that a random person, or anyone, most likely wouldn’t gift you these flowers. 

What about you doesn’t attract people? People who want to be with you, who can accept the way you act, react, what you like to do in your free time. It’s not easy to be open-minded in a close-minded world. Everyone tells other how to think, how to react, or they try to tell them how to react. 

Love sucks, unconditional love is worse. And reading the poem If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda is like a knife to the gut, and with each line read, another twist is added to the blade. 

I want you to know one thing.

You know how this is:             if I look              at the crystal moon, at the red branch              of the slow autumn at my window,             if I touch              near the fire             the impalpable ash             or the wrinkled body of the log             everything carries me to you             as if everything that exists,             aromas, light, metals             were little boats             that sail             toward those isles of yours that wait for me

Those lines sound like a Hozier song. One of longing, crawling back to a person that you know you love, hoping to be loved back. It reminded you of customers that are regulars at your bookstore. A small little thing in the corner of Quantico Virginia, filled top to bottom with books, plants by the big windows, and homey, used furniture. 

It was Tuesday, and as usual, a slow day. Tuesdays were slow for a multitude of reasons, mostly because there’s less travel in town, around town, and the fact that school is out for the winter season. College students returned home, giving you time to restock on textbooks or notebooks, journals, and planners that usually sell out when a new semester rolled around. 

But another thing always happened on Tuesdays. At least, most of the time. 

You were on your phone, staring at the lines of the poem once again when the bell on the door rings. Glancing at the clock on your phone, you huff and look up from the table where the register was, having leant on it to read from your phone. Every Tuesday, usually, at five in the evening, an hour before close, Dr. Spencer Reid would visit your store. 

Thanks to him, your stock of books in other languages got bigger. Mostly by request, since you knew how to order directly from the source and the fact that it was a homey space. You even got a coffee pot for you small store just for him. 

“Dr. Reid,” You smiled at him as he walked up to the register. 

“Hello, I’m sorry I’m here when you’re about to close,” He presses his lips together, adjusting his messenger bag. He got a haircut, you note, realizing that his length in hair changed to a shorter, more boyish look. 

“As always, I have an hour left,” You reply. Spencer shrugs, tapping the table with his index fingers. 

“Well… would it be too late to ask you if you’d like some coffee?” He asked, voice soft as he stared down at the table. 

“I can brew you a pot—”

“No, I mean, after you close. We can go somewhere,” He replies quickly, cutting you off. 

Silence enveloped the small shop as you looked at him, then back down at the dark screen of your phone, where Pablo Neruda’s poem resided. 

Well, now,              if little by little you stop loving me             I shall stop loving you little by little

If suddenly             you forget me             do not look for me,             for I shall already have forgotten you

If you think it long and mad,             the wind of banners             that passes through my life,             and you decide             to leave me at the shore             of the heart where I have roots,             remember             that on that day,              at that hour,             I shall lift my arms             and my roots will set off             to seek another land

A few months pass after the coffee date. It was nice, knowing that Spencer actually liked you for you. Nothing seemed to phase him. Not your lifestyle, not the melancholic thoughts you got, not the way you obsess over your favorite forms of media. Nothing scared him away from you. 

Spencer liked everything about you.

Or so he says. 

You can’t help staring down at your phone, sitting alone on the couch in his apartment. He had only left you for a moment as you look at the same poem that you had the day he asked you out for the first time. What if he got bored of you? Forgot about you? Yeah, sure, he has an eidetic memory, but it’s easy to forget for a while. 

He may not forget the way you looked when you laughed, your smile, the glint in your eyes when you got excited, but he could stop caring about those things. That’s what scared you the most. Knowing that you were easily forgettable. Hell, you were forgotten your whole childhood, it’s not like Spencer couldn’t jump on the same train your family did. 

It would be easy for him. To forget you. What about you was memorable? Your true worth was only connected to the way people used you. 

But Spencer states that he doesn’t want to use you, a small voice in the back of your head shot back, pushing through the anxious thoughts and the onset rumination that was starting to build. He had figured you out easily, a perk of like a profiler you guess. But it made being with him annoying to you. You liked privacy, but he liked knowing how to make you comfortable. 

Was it always so hard to like someone? To fear that they will hurt you one day. Knowing that they will, that one day they will fit the pattern of everyone who’s hurt you before. 

The door to the bathroom opened and you turned your head, clicking off your phone screen and pasting a fake smile on your face. Spencer was wiping his hands on a towel, raising his eyebrows at you. However, before you could get one word out, he was walking over to the couch, a knowing look on his face. 

“I’m not going to hurt you like the others did,” Spencer said almost immediately. 

Liar, you thought. 

“I know,” You say instead and he frowned, knowing that you were lying, but not pushing you. 

You knew you would have to leave him first, before he would ever have that chance to hurt you. But it hurt already, knowing that you would have to hurt him. So, you endure the anxiety of knowing those patterns, just to try to sit with him and enjoy what little time you allowed yourself to have. 

But             if each day             each hour,             you feel that you are destined for me             with implacable sweetness,             if each day a flower             climbs up to your lips to seek me,             ah my love, ah my own,             in me all that fire is repeated,             in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,             my love feeds on your love, beloved,              and as long as you live it will be in your arms             without leaving mine.

Three more months later and you sat in his bathroom, the door locked, your arms shaking as you leaned over the sink, trying to quell the rising panic in your chest. But you couldn’t. He was sitting in his bedroom, after having told you he loved you for the first time. 

You couldn’t say it back. You tried. But all you could do was open your mouth and close it, fear flashing over your face. And before you knew it, you had stood up and left him sitting there, watching you as you ran into his bathroom, shut the door, and locked it.

It hurt, knowing that you loved him back and yet you couldn’t say it back. It was wrong with you. Something that hurt, hurt more than the constriction of anxiety around your heart, gripping it with such force that it hurt to breathe. The pain in your chest, in your gut, the twist of each anxious thought, of each piece of truth that you weaved for yourself, and the knowledge that you needed to leave. 

Hot tears fell from your eyes, large drops finally streaming down your cheeks. 

And a knock on the door. You flinched at the tentative sound, the perpetrator obviously nervous. 

“Hey,” Spencer’s voice called out softly. “I-I know this is hard for you, you don’t have to say it back. I just wanted to tell you.” He was begging. Not truly begging with words, but with his tone for you to understand him. 

How could you tell him that it was the fact that you loved him back that was causing this? You didn’t know how, but you knew that by the blurring of your vision that you were crying even harder. Barely any noise but choked gasps left you, your body trying to get air into your lungs as you held your breath from the fear of everything crashing down. 

“Can you open the door?” Spencer’s voice was quiet, meek. He was begging his time. 

Slowly, with all your strength, you turned the short distance and shakily unlocked it. That was all you could do before you sat on the floor and backed up until your lower back hit the bathtub. Your knees hit your chest, and you hugged them tightly, pressing your forehead into your knees. 

The door slowly opened but didn’t shut. He was giving you a way out if you needed it. It was obvious. Soft footsteps inched towards you and stopped just in front of your shaking body.

“You don’t have to say it back,” He whispered. 

It took a while for you to be able to regulate your breathing and emotions. Slowly, you managed to uncoil your body just enough to peek up at him. Spencer was crouched in front of you, his eyes facing down, hands clasped in front of his own knees. 

“I—” You hiccupped, flinching as he looked up at you. You forced yourself to keep talking, “I love you.” You finally whispered, his eyes widening before he schooled his expression. 

“I know that already, that’s why you didn’t have to say it back,” He leaned forward, gently rubbing the knuckles on one of the hands gripping your knees. “I’m not going to abandon you or hurt you that way you had been hurt in the past. You’re…” He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing as he licked his lips, glancing down and then back up at you with glistening eyes. “You won’t believe me, but I don’t care how many times I will have to say it to get past your traumatic past, to get past the words of those who hurt you in the past.” He squeezed the hand he managed to pry from your knees. “I love you, and I’m not just going to leave.” 

Was it the wind that blew through the trees or the singing of birds that caught your eye? Or was it the first time that you had a partner on Valentine’s Day that kept your thought’s light, now able to appreciate the little things this life had to offer you. 

Maybe, it was Spencer. Spencer and the bouquet of flowers he held out to you, on the other side of the register in your empty bookstore. 

It wasn’t a Tuesday. 

But that didn’t matter. 

Forget Me Nots adorned your living room that night in a pale yellow vase. 

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Word Count: 1,991

Posted one: 1/25/2025

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVING MY CONTENT POSTED BY OTHERS UNLESS SHARED ON TUMBLR THROUGH REPOSTING MY ORIGINAL WORK. DO NOT USE MY WORK FOR AI TRAINING.

References:

Neruda, P. (n.d.). If You Forget Me. allpoetry.com. https://allpoetry.com/if-you-forget-me

[papercuttragedy]

hi I love your Solygbm headcanons, do you have any more headcanons for the skeleton brothers?

Hi, thank you so much for taking the time to ask! And, lucky you! I have another backstory. It's how Sans and Tops became friends. Sorry if it took a while. I took a lot of breaks and spoilers for my later re-adaption for this fiction. Coming soon!

~~~~~~

So, even when Mar (Sans' mother) was still alive and well, Sans was a bit of a friendless kid. Sure, he got along fine with his brothers (mostly) and yeah, he was decent to anybody who had the time (tolerance, really) to talk to him, but overall, he was often at home with his mother to keep her company, while Wingdings searched high and low for any sort of day job to keep them structured. She was actually the one who taught him all sorts of jokes, and he loved every single one of them. He even tried to come up with his own (due to his age at the time, 7 or 8, he wasn't at all great, but Mar enjoyed it dearly and even helped him with more original ones).

After Mar was brutally attacked by a group of monsters that fateful summer night (whether of Asgore's affiliation or not, we'll never know) and died a painful and slow death from those injuries, Sans had a mental shutdown.

He wouldn't talk or look at anybody for days on end. His already friendless personality developed an unusually aggressive behavior towards all to leave him alone. Which, unfortunately, worked. Any slight mention of that incident or even of his mother in general would make him furious and helpless and just full of self-hate.

One day, a few months after Mar's murder, his newfound loneliness caught the attention of older, shit-headed kids who felt the impulse to mess with somebody. I'll never know who exactly escalated it, but eventually, one of the kids says something triggering, which escalates to a 1 on 3 fight. Sans, despite his strength, is easily overpowered, but before a beating can occur, a blue bunny monster, 2 years older than Sans, (and one that Sans had rarely seen, but never really talked to) managed to use his wit to get the boys' hands off him and whatever other half-ass strength God gave him to dispel that fight and leave those small-minded bastards to run off, (presumably not to get caught).

Sans, still saddened and extremely pissed of what one of the kids said to him, begins to quietly leave, though it only causes the bunny boy to follow him, who tries to engage in conversation and see if he's alright.

At first, Sans ignores him, but soon he can't stand the "coddling" anymore, and simply tells the rabbit to "go away" and how he doesn't want his help or pity. This, in turn, pisses the bunny boy, who's confused by what's his deal and how Sans would rather let himself get hurt and unintentionally (without any knowing context) asks if that's what his mother taught him to view himself. This re-angers Sans, and with that, he punches him hard. The bunny boy stays in shock for a moment and then shoves him back in defense. A full-on boy fight happens in that neighborhood alleyway, and by the time both boys are tired, Sans has lost one of his adult teeth, and the bunny boy, a chunk of his ear.

They stay like that for a while, and as Sans breaks into a helpless sob, the bunny leaves him for a bit and takes something from his rendor and gives him a nice cream from his homemade work, something that was influenced from humans.

The following went something like this:

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

The stranger's voice sounded more persistent.

"C'mon. Take it. You're upset."

Sans snarled at him (or at least tried to).

"Fuck off."

"I will if you just take it."

Agitated, hungry, and far too exhausted to fight back anymore, Sans used his remaining upper body strength to snatch (though his hand trembled far too much to give the aggression he wanted to show) the red frozen thing from the bunny's hand, and took a large bite.

The texture was cool, crisp, and yet a sweetness covered his senses from head to phalanche. He froze, and for a moment, the bunny tilted his head in response.

He probably thinks I hate it.

"Think it's nice?"

Sans didn't bother to respond but simply gave a slow, affirmative nod without looking at him. He looked the type that would boast. A satisfied hum could be slightly heard afterward, somewhat confirming this.

"Well. I'm glad ya like it. Took me all day to get the taste perfected. It ain't much, but I hope it makes your day somewhat less shitty."

Sans searched for any sign of deception or condescension in that cheerful tone. Surprisingly, and thankfully, it wasn't.

"...thanks."

"No problem. If it's okay with you, I can walk you home in case those goons come back for a reround. It's dangerous out here, day or night. Does your mother even know you wander alone out here -"

The remaining sentences died off as soon as Sans felt his gaze return to him, and the gut-wrenching look of misery and hate resurfacing. He wanted to cry all over again but willed enough strength to not give any sort of satisfaction.

After what seemed forever, all that could be heard was a simple "Oh."

"..."

"I- I had no idea. I'm so sorry. I really am."

Took you forever to read the room.

Sans felt himself impulsively wanting to say that thought bitterly, but whatever could come out was interrupted by the bunny boy again.

"I know what you feel. I lost my mother too, recently. About 2 to 3 years back. It's not that long once you think about it. I only have my brother now."

Sans stared, slowly taking the time to look at the bunny again, seeing instead a downtrodden face that stared at the dirt that stained his already dirty clothes.

"I've only got my brothers too."

"Huh. No father?"

"Barely knew him. Wingdings never wants to talk about him."

"Wingdings?"

"My older brother."

"Oh. And your other brother?"

"Papyrus. He's about to be 4 soon."

"I'm really sorry."

"Don't be. It ain't your fault. I'm sorry, too. For being a dick...and for your loss as well."

"Don't be. It ain't your fault either."

....

The bunny turned his face up to look at him, and Sans finally truly looked at his face. They stared at each other, and suddenly, the bunny let out a goofy chuckle and said; "You look not half bad without that tooth there. My mama would have called you a ruffian."

Sans snorted before instinctively rolled his tongue to the spot where the now empty gap in his mouth remained. He couldn't but be impressed.

Wingdings is gonna kill me.

"Speak for yourself. It ain't gonna come back anytime soon. Neither with that nick in your ear."

The bunny placed a hand to cover that ear. His smile spreading farther. "At least it looks cooler."

"Really? No way."

"Oh no?"

The bunny paused again, his smile becoming more gentle as he slowly retracted his hand from his ear and lent it out in a greeting manner.

"Name's Tops."

Sans paused again, and for a moment, he felt as if it were another trap for him to fall into. But, that face was so genuine that it didn't seem likely.

So, hesitantly, he offered his hand and clasped it into a firm shake. Sans felt a smile he never knew was there grow.

"Sans."

[eggplantgifs]

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