#Jane burnt me out

[glindyupland]

You guys know I love you!(?) I love you! I loVE yOU! I FREAKING LOVE YOU, O K A Y??? SO FOR MY REAL NUMBER I AM GOING TO SING ABOUT HOW I LOVE YOU GUYS. THIS SONG IS SIMPLY CALLED “I LOVE YOU GUYS” 

[Happy Birthday Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg, the most Taylor Swift Anti-Hero girl in town]

[fizzle-y]

she that’s my vote on my motioned carried till i democracy rocks

[everchanging-cryptid]

(Click for better quality (or worse???))

Jane Prentiss, remember her? Here’s my take on her, I guess (this is a gift for my dad because he is also a fan of TMA)

Original sketch under the cut

Changed her face around because I wasn’t happy with it and added less holes in the end

[passiveaggressiveturkeys]

Yes I could use the custom character creator but the idea of TIM going “no we must bring her back exactly as she was, including that completely impractical hairstyle, we have no way of knowing if having hair constantly falling over one eye is what gave her the motivation to save the galaxy”

And then Miranda just having to sit there muttering “I am a scientist” while becoming Shepard’s resurrect/coma hairdresser

It’s just funny to me idk

[annabelle--cane]

OKAY. the magnus fucking institute, manchester.

worm tracks all over the archives' floor?? hello??? this institute burnt down in '99 and archives verse jane prentiss attacked in 2016, but. that can't NOT be connected, right?

redcanary said there were no papers left, but sam and alice found some! completely rotten, but they are there. why are most of the papers gone but not all?

from her reaction to the institute being brought up in magp 02 and 05, it seems like alice didn't know about sam's history with the place before and he filled her in some time recently.

"I want to know what was happening, why they chose us… why they didn’t choose me. Maybe find the bit where everything started to go wrong." say more right now mr khalid. I saw your scores on that spreadsheet, I know you got the best grades in unethical child psych experiments. don't give up hope yet! I'm sure you still have plenty of time to become one with some kind of eldritch abomination!

beth eyre as [error]. okay, I know she was a voice in archives, but for the time being I am assuming this is not statement giver lucia wright from mag 130 with the steel chair. in the archives verse institute, the trapdoor in the archivist's office lead to the tunnels, but this institute isn't connected to old millbank prison. nevertheless, there was still a Person trapped under there. probably been there for the last 25 years. an old archivist, maybe? they're immortal, she could have just been chilling down there like the alexandrian archivist. but she also was deliberately locked in. she needed the key to get out. oops! we dug down too deep and released the Creature from below the earth!

[expirednukacola]

ORANGE COLORED SKY 🏜️ || The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

𐚁⊹₊ ⋆☆

AHHHH! The first chapter is getting so much love and attention! I can’t believe it- This is making me cry! I love you all so, so much! SUMMARY: After two hundred years of some much needed beauty sleep, reader wakes up and realizes she has been given a second chance at life.. only to look like a piece of scorched summer sausage.

TW: GORE + GHOUL CANNIBALISM? + A BRIEF MENTION OF A “BIG IRON” 🔫

og gif made by: @lousolversons

“Don’t they know it’s the end of the world..”

“..‘Cause you don’t love me anymore.”

As your limp body fell to the brown, dead grass beneath you, you look up at that disgusting orange sky with such hatred and contempt before — Darkness. Nothing but darkness shrouded your senses alongside Death’s eery, cold chill.. At least death provided some relief for your decrepit, burnt body.

You finally felt.. free. Free from life’s fleshy binding that attached you to the mortal plane. Free from life’s troubling trails and tribulations that would’ve dragged like heavy chains on your body until the weight of them became too much. Free from pain, free from suffering, free from fear — Free from the horrible world itself.

…Until some asshole decided to turn the damn lights back on.

You woke up with a loud gasp and almost immediately, the pain of hunger and thirst was overwhelmingly evident in your facial expression. “Fuck- W- Water..” Like a zombie who was ran over by an 18 wheeler, you stood up on your little “Bambi” legs and looked around the wasteland that surrounded you. Nothing but patches of dead grass, cracked and crumbled dirt, and the occasional tumbleweed was all that you could see — Besides the dilapidated remains of Mr. Shit-Stain’s house.

“..How the hell is this thing still standin’?” You rasped out as you fumbled towards the tumbledown remnants of the house, the P.O.S. glass shard still sticking out of your leg like an annoying family member that never wanted to leave when it’s Christmas- or any holiday for that matter. Carefully stepping over the pieces of glass, you cautiously entered the house through the large broken windows and looked around what used to be a living room. Some things were still standing, like the couch, the television (minus the ginormous crack its screen had), and one of the most rinky dink coffee tables you have ever fuckin’ seen. “..Pretty sure ‘Bobby’ picked that shit out-”

You cut yourself off by letting out a much needed laugh and after a few minutes of laughing and snickering like a hippie high on mary jane, you staggered on over to the kitchen.. and that’s when you saw your saving grace- THE FRIDGE! Somehow, that piece of metal was the only thing unscathed from that damn blast! You thanked the heavens for this one of a kind gift that you most definitely deserved and you opened it to find-!

…A shit ton of mold and one dead and pretty large roach. “…After all I’ve fuckin’ gone through, I am gifted THIS?! THIS IS WHAT I GET?!” After kicking the fridge door shut, you went to pinch the bridge of your nose only to find out that you no longer had one. That’s when you finally looked down at your hand and your arm. With your heart now starting to collide with your ribcage, you quickly inspected both of your arms and then both of your legs, noticing how one of your arms was more skeletal than the rest of your limbs. “No, no, no, no..!”

You quickly ran around the decayed bits and pieces of the house until you finally found what used to be a bathroom. Immediately gazing into the shattered mirror, you saw how your once beautiful and youthful face had now become twisted, corrupt — grotesque, if you will. On one side of your face, it resembled shattered porcelain and your eye was milky white.. the other side was just a burning memory of what you used to be.

After a few minutes of pulling yourself together, and pulling that damn piece of glass out of your leg, you finally ventured out of the house and back to the “wild, wild west” of Lost Angeles (see what I did there?), and began your little adventure to find something to eat and at least a pond to drink out of. As you hobbled around the wastelands of an already wasteland-like city, you finally stumbled upon the rotting “corpse” of someone who looked just like you. He had the same red, fleshy blotches all over his face and his entire body, and his nose was missing as well. You guessed it was some type of peculiarity people like you shared.. well goddamn-

But something else about him struck a tender little chord in your hungered state.. His chest cavity was busted wide open, like the doors of a Golden Corral on a Sunday afternoon. Your mouth started to salivate, your stomach started to rumble, an animalistic growl spewed from your vocal cords.. and you ran as fast as your legs could, despite your leg that was still in its healing process. Once you were right next to the decaying and rotting body, you quickly dropped down to your knees and began to feast.

Dark, thick blood covered your hands, your chin, and those sweet lips of yours as you stuffed your mouth with that man’s flesh and what remained of his organs that once nestled underneath his ribcage. The only thing that was left whole was his heart.. his delicious, succulent heart. Slowly, you lifted his blackened heart out from his body and began to suck the little bit of blood that dripped out from the aorta, lapping it up as if it were the best water you have ever drank.

“Oh, sweet heavens above!” -were the first words you have uttered in a hot minute when you finally had your hunger satisfied — your thirst quenched by your newfound animalistic appetite for flesh and blood. “..Fuck- Thanks for your help, sir.” As you stood up and wiped your bloodied hands on your top, you heard the familiar sound of a gun getting cocked.. Well shit-

“Hold it right there, missy.” That voice.. That southern twang.. That teeny tiny lisp that’s barely noticeable unless you really listen.. You quickly whipped your head around, but instead of seeing your beloved cowpoke with those sweet dimples you love oh-so much, you saw someone who merely looked like him. You let out an audible gulp and reached your skeletal hand out towards the creature’s face, but he stepped back in response.

“..Cooper?”

“..Y/N?”

Your vision slowly began to fade in and out and the one to catch your collapsing body was that sweet, tender man you knew and fell so deeply in love with before The End. “I got you, missy.. I got you.” Were the last words you heard before you finally gave into the darkness once more. The Ghoul cradle you close and tight to his chest — Oh, how he craved feeling your comforting warmth against his own once more. How he yearned to hear your sweet, gentle voice again. How he ached to gaze into those kind eyes of yours; those pools of life that he had to be careful with because he didn’t want to drown in them.

Now, he’s finally got you safe in his arms..

..Or does he?

———————

I apologize for this chapter being shorter than the first one so consider this chapter 1.5! I was a little busy today with some personal stuff but you all asked so kindly and I hope you all liked this one as much as the first one!

TAG LIST: @lexiway121 @onyxclown @hellolettuce444 @leo4242564 @minaxcarter @a-case-of-attachment @hiddenworld666 @looneylooomis @sunnexaltation @coolrobloxkid28 @enaelyork @foggyturtleknightangel @ghcstvibess @haleymaccosplay @classaysstuff

[ur-mousey]

Cross My Heart and Hope to Die~

-Yan!Andrew Graves x F!Reader x Yan!Ashley Graves-

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

Part 2 (coming soon) chapter one The Addition

summary Your parents didn’t give two shits where you were. But they made sure to leave you somewhere with someone. And, you found yourself in the care of Mrs. Graves -she was no better.

Upon arrival Ashley despised you and Andrew kept his distance for your sake.

warning parental neglect/familial abuse.

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

Friends never came easy to you. But, older brothers proved harder to navigate. They say that blood runs thicker than water but everything ran clear between you and Jared. He despised you. He'd hightailed it on his skateboard, pocketing the cash meant to feed you, the minute your parents left him in charge. It happened all the time. And within a few steps of your lazying fathers slumped form over the suede brown armchair, Jared snuck cigarettes from his pocket and burnt the buds on your inner arm. When your mom caught glimpses of the marking, she would sit to herself on her bed cursing your father's name in vain.

You never corrected mommy and she never said a word to daddy.

One day, Jared left you with a bowl of animal crackers. You scoured the fridge for a juice box after the door slammed and the lock slid in place. But, groceries ran slim, and spoiled milk sat nestled behind a few cans of Corona. You stood on your tippy toes, peaking over the shelves, and nothing resembled juice.

With your tiny fingers stretched out, you try to obtain the carton of milk. You knocked cans down which rolled over the edge, bursting upon impact. You flinched. Tears burst as you fell on your knees. A puddle kissed your tights and clung to your skirts. You kicked the fridge and smashed the bottle under your fist.

Before Jared could see the damages of a four-year-old, hours after your little accident, and before he could clean up to save face, your daddy returned home.

Daddy's rage broke whatever: Jared's skateboards, Mommy's pearls gifted from her mother, and he tore your beer-reeked clothes off.

You were never left alone again.

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

"Say hello to your new friends," Mommy used your hand to wave at the two older kids. "The girl is Ashley. She's in the fourth grade and she's eight. Then there's her older brother Andrew. They wanna play with you. Right?"

The little girl scowled but nodded. Mrs. Graves smacked the back of an uninterested Andrew. "Feel free to drop her off whenever. Andrew is such a responsible boy. He's practically raising Ashley."

Your mom giggled. "I wish my son was more like that. He's a mess. I don't know what to do with him. He takes after his father. This one... she's my little mini-me."

Mommy poked your nose with hers. You heard Mrs. Graves quip, "If that's true, she'll be quite the doll."

"She is! You can even dress her up as one too." Mommy's eyes lit at the mention of fashion. You sulked further into the fur lining of her jacket as she tried to parade you around. She pinched your butt as you scufted your Mary Janes on the dirty carpeting. "Don't be shy now. Go on and introduce yourself."

You put your thumb in your mouth and batted tears from your eyes. "Mommy, can't I go with you?"

"Dear..." She brushed her fingers through your hair. She adjusted the burgundy beret until the plaid bow attached framed your face, "It's a busy night, love. Mommy's sorry."

"Daddy-"

"Isn't. home."

"Fine! What about Jared? I'll be home with him," You whined.

"And he'll leave you again. I don't want you alone. Mommy thinks Mrs. Graves and her kids will take good care of you. Don't you trust me?"

You nodded. And with mommy's efforts, you introduced yourself. You were almost seven in a lion's den. But, you'd survived hyenas' quarrels before. What's the worse two siblings can do.

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

Mrs. Graves excused herself to the bedroom, claiming fatigue. She muttered under her breath, "Your father should be home soon. He's bringing home takeout. Leave me alone till then."

Andrew whistled in response. The door shut and silence infiltrated the space. You sniffled - once, twice, even a third time.

Ashley erupted, "What are we supposed to do with that!? She's being a huge crybaby! I can't take it, Andy!!" She clung onto her brother and hissed at your watering eyes. Your cheeks redden at the attention.

"Leave me alone," You whimpered. "I'm not crying."

The siblings stared at you. Andrew twiddled with his sister's barrette-filled hair. Ashley wore green overalls a tad too large on her that they looked more like Andrew's size. Both siblings had the complexion of vanilla bean ice cream and their hair was as dark as licorice.

"You so are!" Ashley whined. "Why are you dumped on us? This is so unfair Andy."

Andrew tried comforting his younger sister, "Leave her alone, Leyley. It's only for tonight. Let's just watch a movie or something."

"Why are you defending her? I'm your sister, not her. You do this all of the time!"

"Do what exactly? I'm not defending her. I don't want to hear either of you whine." Andrew stood from his seat on the couch. "How about we get snacks? I'll pop some popcorn."

You tilted your head, watching as the girl sprung to his back, the boy reluctant, relented to giving her a piggyback ride. Your brother would never dare. "I'll act dead. I won't exist," You whispered. You hopped in place, hicking your backpack higher on your shoulders. A little louder you spoke, "You and Andy ca-"

"Don't call him that! He's my Andy. And don't you dare call me Leyley. It's not for a common hussy."

Andrew's eyes, a brilliant kiwi color, flashed towards you. You shook like a leaf in autumn. Yet, you dressed solely with winter in mind. It's mid-March where the breeze kicked at one's legs. He wondered if, in summer, you'd be dressed in the finest floral outfits suited for Easter day.

"Finish your thought," Andrew encouraged.

"I don't want to watch a movie. I'll wait for Mommy by the window." You pointed. And he nodded, walking off with Ashely swinging her legs in the air.

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

Daddy's gone. So is brother. Mommy's alone. She still has you. You aren't enough. You are a burden. That's what you think perched on the windowsill. Snow White sang at the water well. She must have thought the same as you. You peeked over at the screen where her Prince Charming caught Cupid's arrows with his chest fully bared.

And as destined, he'll kiss her awake.

Your tummy rumbled and you felt too stubborn to leave your vantage point. Mommy could whisk you away from the rude siblings, and you didn't want to miss the moment. You had taken out your violet cotton bunny plush, waving it side to side between your feet. His floppy ears rolled into his round button eyes. And his belly bore pink with bloat.

He must be full all the time.

Mr. Graves had greeted you with a box in hand of gooey cheese pizza and lemon-peppered wings, which he left on the counter. It's been 20 minutes since the family gathered at the table and you didn't move.

Nor did they ask you to come.

Footsteps pattered from carpet to tile. The TV paused as Ashley left to set her plate in the sink. Mrs. and Mr. Graves continued in hushed voices at the dining table while Andrew sat in front. He scratched at his oversized grey sweater and he used his index finger to poke at his food.

"When is her mom picking her up?" Ashley leaned over the table.

"That woman's a dancer. She'll be out all night. Andrew, you'll have to walk her to school and Nina's getting dropped off in the morning."

Andrew huffed, "Since when were you popular? I gotta get three girls to school now?"

Mrs. Graves hummed. "Sorry kid, that's how it'll be for a while. People are in tough times so they flock to the one not hurting the most. Bare with it."

"You could've said no." Andrew pouted.

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

Thank you for reading! Request rules are here! Follow my ig = lil.thoughts.xo!

This will have multiple parts and smut. Be ready. Please leave suggestions in the comments! I will be taking ideas for this fic! This will be a slow burn but in the next chapter, I might add a glimpse of the future. A.k.a the events of the game.

[prettyboypistol]

I'm super afraid, first time making a rq. Can we see the mercs and reader's domestic life please?

i'm literally just a guy lmao

OFFENSIVE CLASS DOMESTIC LIFE! || TF2 x Reader

Scout

Golden retriever BF energy, a bouncing mischievous lovebug that likes to bounce off the walls and land onto kissing you.

wakes up earlier than you and makes you coffee, but also forgets to turn off the coffee pot when he's done

Cabinets? ALWAYS OPEN. Dishwasher? HALFWAY DONE.

you better pray his momma loves you (she adores you)

Soldier

He's a little more boisterous and loudlike as a husband, morning cuddles, wake up kisses, and burnt breakfast in bed.

Jane loves playing the "big strong husband" role and absolutely adores picking you up and kissing you- hugging you- and loving you.

Honestly? I headcanon Soldier as OCD and having a meticulous place for everything- getting panicked if something is out of place or moved without warning- please notify him if you intend to redecorate or move things as his hallucinations will fuck him up if you mess with his system without a heads up.

Surprisingly a great househusband! (aside from the burnt cooking and doomsday prep in the basement)

Pyro

When they're lucid, they're affectionate, loving, if not a little insecure about "baby, promise you'll never leave me? Please, just indulge me a little?"

You help them remember to take their daily medications and support them as a mercenary and business CEO- as their house spouse, you're nothing but Pyro's #1 cheerleader!!!

Pyro is incredibly sweet and doting to you, cooking to impress you, loving on you, cuddling you like a teddybear, etc etc

[aloysiavirgata]

She walks in beauty, like the night

Scully in the simplest, blackest silk. Scully pale, moon-kissed, vulnerable. Scully’s hair and eyes like where the stars are born.

***

Scully comes to him when even the moon is all but asleep, like a single calla lily from a secret admirer. Unbidden. Unexpected.

Unparalleled.

“Mulder,” she says, outside his open door, in a negligee that last shade of sky blue before it goes pitch black.

Spaghetti straps and a low décolletage, though not shockingly low. Lace trim, mid thigh. It looks like something Katharine Hepburn would wear to slap you.

Not you. Him.

Specifically him.

She looks up at him through her heavy-lashed, heavy-lidded eyes.

He stares at her for his own sake because deep in his 12 year old heart, no one would ever, ever, believe that nerdy Fox Muld-

Scully takes another step closer onto the sad oatmeal carpet of his hotel room. She has such pretty ankles, she has such pretty calves. She smells like honeysuckle and hot bike tires and buttery lobster rolls and the sweetest, purest moments of his life.

She tips her face up to him, Agent Scully does, all eyes and lips and cheekbones like a geometric proof.

“God,” he says. And he means it.

***

LA belongs to the sun and Scully is a San Diego baby but he knows, he knows, she is an East Coast girl at heart. He knows she loves the first retinal purple-orange sunrises of America and the first sapphire kisses of night. He knows she loves the stars by which her father learned to navigate. He knows she loves the distant moon.

He knows she loves blue crabs and wool duffel coats and khaki shorts and aspires to East Hampton in her most secret, silent heart.

One day he will make love to her in London because she will, he knows, hark to the call of the City. She is a creature of old stone and lichen and liminal space.

She is the answer to Samson’s riddle.

***

He’d rented a jet black ‘57 Chevy Bel Air because Christ, this girl. Abductions and cancer and the most awful brutality and stolen ova and Christ; this brilliant, moonbeam girl.

She sees the car and she says nothing. But her eyes, her eyes. Her Star of India eyes.

Scully sees the car and she smiles, shy. Scully squeezes his hand.

***

He fucks her - hard, desperate - in the Chevy out over Mullholland and she cries out for him because even Saint Teresa writhed in ecstasy.

He kisses her the way a mariner kisses his homeland soil because she is his human credential. He kisses her like a Torah scroll. He shudders, murmurs I love you, I love you into the hot, sweet dark of her mouth.

***

She is bleeding, just a little. She is bleeding in the warm caress of a Southern California night. She is bleeding as though she were a virgin and maybe she is; maybe there is sex and there is fucking and there is making love and there is This.

Are you there, god? It’s me, Dana.

She touches his sleeping rosebud lips. She touches his funny nose and his beautiful jaw and she doesn’t say I love you aloud like he had because she’d learned it was shameful. She’d learned to salute.

But it’s 3 AM, neither properly morning nor properly night. It’s 3 AM and she isn’t LA pretty, not by a long shot, but she’s here with him, with Mulder, who is very LA pretty and has money besides.

She’s too short and too pale and her nose is patrician rather than cute and she gets burnt instead of tan. She doesn’t laugh in the right places at movies. She likes copper because it burns green, she likes moths more than butterflies, she can quote Jane Austen’s most acerbic lines.

She thinks of Mulder swimming hard across the Vineyard tides, Mulder with his cinnamon skin in the whipped cream breakers. Riding a red fixed-gear along Lake Tashmoo, tugging his tiny sister along. Mulder basking on the beach like a young god of summer. Mulder with his heart afire like Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque.

Her father is dead and look, look Mulder has such a tender soul even if he’s Jewish and atheist, Daddy. Mulder has eyes like fern moss.

“I love you,” she says, her eyes brimming with tears, her eyes bright as the newest stars.

[goquokka00]

Stray Kids on Weed

The Lee Know Strain In which the love of their life smokes the mary jane, and they give it a shot for the first time...

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

A Few Notes: This is purely just supposed to be funny and a joke. I've also never been high and while I am friends with those who have either tried weed or do weed on the regular, I only know so much. So please just bear with me and have a good laugh, okay? Okay. Love you guys ❤️❤️❤️

So I have this gut feeling that Minho's first experience with weed would be with an edible. Seeing as he loves cooking and all, and is also just scared that he could potentially fuck up his lungs if he did actually smoke, I feel like this would probably be the way that he would combat that.

It's not often that you bring home edibles, but when you do, Minho asks to try it. And surprise surprise, nothing happens at first. Why? Because it's an edible. Minho thought you were scamming him when he didn't feel anything happen in his system, but it all changed about 45 minutes later.

Stupid idiot.

That's what he got for not listening to you when you tried to explain that edibles take longer to kick in since you have to let the food and weed actually digest in your stomach. Maybe next time, he'll learn to listen to you and not claim that he had beaten god.

Now, once this high kicks in, I see Minho doing a complete and total 180 in his mood. He goes from having this cocky, cold, mischievous and honestly just closed off personality to being the most cuddly, happy, giggly, softest best boi you've ever met in your life.

He smiles more than you've ever seen in your entire life, he GIVES hugs instead of tolerating them and plotting your murder once you have him in your arms (Bangchan is lowkey jealous when he hears about that), he talks about how much he loves and appreciates his members, and even states that he cares for Hyunjin a lot more than he usually lets off.

Course, when you told him what he said once he was sober again, he threatened you that if you told anyone he'd air fry you until you were burnt. Ah, he's so in love with you...

I also have this sneaky suspicion that Minho would want to do things that he really shouldn't do when high. Things such as going to the gym, going out in public because he's an idol and if anyone saw him high he could be in a shit ton of trouble, cook, go and practice dance routines...y'know. The typical Minho stuff.

He'd go on and on and try to reassure you that he was fine, and that he wasn't that far gone. In reality, this poor baby can't even figure out how to zip up his coat.

Now do I think Minho would give weed more chances in the future? Maybe on very special occasions like after parties, but I really don't see him using it often. I think him finding out about how he gets really makes him worry about actually admitting to the fact that him and Jisung do, in fact, have a secret relationship and that he's his one true love. That, or the fact that he secretly wants to have a polyamorous relationship with both you and Jisung.

God only knows at this point.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d

[antiodote]

she can't finish and they fight - part IV

warnings: strong language, somewhat disturbing imagery

“what could go wrong? except for absolutely everything?”

part I, II & III

/ / /

y/n opened and closed the door as quietly as she possibly could. her effort of not waking her temporary roommate was in vain though, as jane was happily munching down on some takeout while rewatching her favourite episodes of new girl. without turning away from the TV, jane spoke.

“11:02 pm, that’s a new record, girl! do they chain you to your damn desks or what?” 

her remark makes y/n chuckle, more out of frustration than amusement, though. coming home at this hour on a monday night was indeed a new record for her. without saying a word, she leaves her bag and coat at the door and moves to sit next to her friend. she steals a slice of her pizza and digs in without much thought, staring straight ahead and trying to catch up on what was happening on the episode. both of them were aware, however, that she was entirely elsewhere, mentally. so, jane stops the episode to gain her friend’s attention. 

“rough day?” 

y/n turns to face her friend and sighs in defeat.

“rough day, week or month? honestly, I can’t even tell anymore.” her shoulders slump and her gaze wanders as she searches for a way to describe her current emotional well-being or lack thereof. “I just feel exhausted, like, all the time.” 

a short pause makes the air thick between them before jane comments.

“y/n…”

the exhausted one looks up to her friend to find her concerned expression etched deeply into her pretty features. suddenly, she feels a warm hand graze its way upwards the length of her arm, stopping to softly grab her shoulder. 

“you’re burnt out, angel. maybe take some time off, hm? I’m sure you’ll benefit from it-“

“jane, I can’t. you know that I can’t.”

her friend was not having it. “why not, y/n?”

“jane, please. can we not do this right now?”

“you always say that. you never let me help you-“

“you’re helping more than you know already! if it wasn’t for you I’d be homeless.” 

jane took a deep breath to brace herself for what she was about to say.

“and why is that, y/n?”

the girl looked at her friend, puzzled. 

“what are you on about?”

“why are you in this situation, y/n?”

she groaned. “don’t fucking make me say it.”

before jane could interject, y/n put her hand up in protest. it was as if the bare notion of speaking about the recent happenings in her life made her physically ill. and honestly, it did. 

they say a broken heart can kill. what about a broken soul? what does that do to a person? y/n didn’t know. all she did know was that she felt like the life had been sucked out of her, and not in a good way. 

it was terrible. so, so truly terrible and horrifying.

y/n looked at her friend, who looked at her apologetically. she sighed, her walls slowly crumbling. 

“I am in this situation, my dearest jane, because…”

y/n got up instantaneously to fetch herself a drink from the tiny bar cart right across from where they were sitting because it just felt like that kind of night. the silence felt thick and heavy and goopy and greasy and it felt like drowning in a pool of tar. however, as soon as the bitter taste of alcohol hit her tongue and ran down her throat, things felt a little less thick and heavy and goopy and greasy and like drowning in a pool of tar.

so, y/n chuckled. 

“I am here because my lovely boyfriend kicked me out. wonderful, right? now, why did you make me say it?” 

y/n drowns her drink before pouring herself another one. 

“and why did he do that, hmm? what made your angel of your boyfriend treat you like that?” 

y/n turned around, facing jane. she was honestly offended at what she was insinuating.

“are you seriously trying to blame me for what happened?”

“oh, don’t you dare. you know damn well why I’m bringing this up, y/n.”

“please, enlighten me.”  she said, as the third drink was in the process of being consumed. 

jane sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose with her index finger and thumb. 

“god, y/n. look, I know you’re miss independent, as you should be! you’re strong and capable and one of the most resilient and successful people I know. however, and this is a big one, with how you don’t let your loved ones help you with anything at all, and with how you put work over anything, you’re doing yourself more harm than good. no, it doesn’t make you weak to ask for help, and it doesn’t make you incompetent to take a few steps back from work. you need a life, y/n. an actual life, not one where you keep running away from your problems and pretend like you’re the only person you can count on. it makes me feel like you’re shutting me out, and it probably made harry feel helpless as well. I’m not saying what he did was right, god no. what I am saying, though, is that the longer you keep doing this to yourself, the higher the chance is that you will end up alone.” 

y/n doesn’t think she owns a knife sharp enough to cut the tension in the room. she looks at jane, who is red in the face with frustration, and tries to find some sort of flaw in her logic. she doesn’t know if this is some sort of fight for dominance, or just a friend expressing her concerns. y/n wonders if she lost the ability to trust anyone. 

she truly wasn’t up for this kind of conversation right now.

“jesus, jane. time-out, please. I know you mean well, but I really can’t do this right now.”

jane sighs, y/n can no longer face her friend, and things feel uncomfortable. 

“look, y/n, I get it. I really do. but don’t let your trauma stand in the way of what you truly deserve. you deserve a fulfilling career, not a soul-crushing one, and you deserve help, especially when the people who love you want to do nothing more. it doesn’t matter if you feel like you need it or not, because everyone needs it. you’re human, dude. try acting like one.”

and with that, jane got up from the couch and made her way to her room. she turned around halfway to say an earnest “I love you” to her friend, but she was staring straight at the bottom of her glass in misery. 

the tears started flowing before she could help it, but she was entirely silent. she missed the time when things weren’t this messy. she missed feeling strong and most of all, happy. 

and she also missed him, terribly so. and this time, she couldn’t help but stare straight at the obvious: she missed him more and more, every day.

she also missed the person that she was when they were together and was starting to wonder if she needed him to get her back. 

/ / /

monday, 9:02 am. 

harry had not seen y/n since their fight and he had honestly almost gotten used to her absence. it didn’t feel good to not have her around, but it didn’t drive him to a near overdose anymore. 

where once used to be a feeling of existential dread and depression, now lives an ongoing flow of anxiety and panic. because he has to face her, today. for the sake of his friends. at least that’s what he tells himself.

a sudden sickness overcomes him for the umpteenth time within the last few days which makes him stop mid-run.  

in through the nose. hold your breath. one. two. three. release through the mouth. repeat. 

just like she had taught him. 

god fucking dammit. 

harry was now aggravated, more than anything. but he knew, no matter how negative his emotions were today, he had to go through with it. for mitch and sarah. and himself. 

he arrived back home and took an icy shower. he thought it might help him be less of a wuss and prepare for the task at hand. but alas, his balls were still buried somewhere deep within him. so, time passes. 

11 am.

12 pm. 

1 pm.

2 pm. 

3 pm. 

4 pm. 

by the time 5 pm rolled around, he had to chuckle bitterly. any other person would’ve been on their way home by now. but his lovely y/n was probably still buried knee-deep in any kind of work that was given to her. it pained him to think about her in stress and exhaustion. it pained him even more that she probably didn’t even realise how she was working herself to death.

he fondly remembers the time when she was the epitome of a free spirit; when nothing could worry her and life was a gift that she happily embraced with open arms. now, it seemed, she was trapped in a vicious cycle of self-destruction. it felt like the walls around her were at an all-time high. harry didn’t know if he could be the one to save her, if that was even within the realm of what she could possibly want. and honestly, for now, that didn’t even matter. they had a wedding to attend. everything else could be resolved afterwards. 

as soon as that very thought came to him, harry wanted to punch himself in the face for how utterly stupid and selfish he sounded. well, if he’s lucky, y/n will do that job for him. at least then he could feel her touch again.

6 pm. 

enough is enough.

harry fought the urge to throw up once more before he left the house. he decided to purposefully ignore the mind-numbing screams inside of his brain telling him to not leave the house ever again; to stay in his bed until he starved, shrivelled up and died without anybody ever having to look at his miserable figure again. the anxiety that has been constantly bubbling at the back of his throat like a jacuzzi in the french alps told him to never speak to y/n again. that they hurt each other and that he was in no way capable of fixing anything. as a matter of fact, he was certainly only going to make it worse. nevertheless, he pushed through, he had to. for mitch and sarah, or whatever. 

he arrived at her office building at 6:23 pm. before he could think too much about it, he left his car, headed towards the building, greeted the intern at the front desk, got into the elevator and pressed number seven in it to get to y/n. easy enough, so far. 

or so he thought.

when the elevator dinged to signal his arrival on the 7th floor, the sliding doors opened to reveal maude, y/n’s sweet coworker, who was probably leaving for the day. she saw him and harry wished he had just waited in the car for two more minutes. 

“harry! sweet boy, how are you? it’s been ages! give me a hug you handsome thing!”

while harry’s neck was dragged down by maude’s short arms, panic rose in his gut as he became painfully aware of how y/n must’ve been alerted of his presence with how loud maude had just greeted him. matter of fact, the whole office must be aware now. 

“hi maude, good to see you. I’m actually looking for y/n, is she still at her desk?”

unbeknownst to him, y/n was definitely aware of his presence. just like he had suspected, she was made aware by maude’s overly excited greeting. the second she figured he was here she wanted to hide, run, possibly jump out of the window. she wanted to do whatever she could to not face him. not right now, not ever. she wasn’t ready. so, while maude kindly offered to walk harry to y/n’s desk and bombard him with small talk in the meantime, she took the initiative and ran, as unsuspecting as possible, to the bathroom to at least try and get some proper air in her lungs. hopefully, no one saw the sheer panic in her expression.

harry and maude came to y/n’s desk to find it empty. 

“oh, this is weird. I swear she was here just a moment ago.” maude said, looking around the room in a confused manner. harry had an inkling that his earlier suspicions were indeed correct. she knew he was here.

“I’m sure she just went to the bathroom, maude. I can wait here, thank you.”

before harry could interject, maude offered to wait with him. “I don’t always get the chance to have you all to myself, harry! need to use it, don’t I?” 

they both laughed at her attempted, slightly inappropriate joke. harry shrugged it off and blamed it on the fact that the woman is the same age as some of her aunts or her mother, even. lord knows, maybe she genuinely enjoyed his presence. 

while they continued their chitchat, y/n had yet to properly calm down. what was she going to do? does she face him? could she? was there an alternative? not really, she thought. she had to come out before it raised any suspicion. not that people cared, really. she just didn’t want to make a fuss. however, the thought of facing him right now made her want to rip her nails out, one by one.

her frantic back and forth through the office bathroom came to a halt when someone else came in. she tried to smooth over her anxiety by pretending to have just left a stall and make her way to the sinks in a calm and collected fashion, though, anybody could probably smell her nerves from miles and miles away. she washes her hands, rapidly, and takes a good look at herself afterwards. her hair was in place, her suit somewhat clean and her makeup looked good enough. to strangers and coworkers, she probably looked fine. she knew, however, that harry would probably see the pain in her. she wonders what would cross his mind when he lays his eyes on her. then she thinks again, a sudden rage aflame within her. she shouldn’t care what he thinks. after all, the bastard kicked her out! the newfound emotion was enough to carry her feet from her current position to her desk. purposeful strides, stiff back and high nose.

here goes nothing.

when she gets back to her desk, she finds maude telling harry some story about a comically large fruit she saw at the farmers market. harry seemed to listen to every word until he found y/n to be standing in front of them. they looked at each other for the first time since their fight but had no time to dwell on any emotions as maude filled the silence instantaneously. 

“there you are! your lovely beau is here to pick you up, lucky girl! do you know where you’ll be having dinner tonight? oh, there is this wonderful italian place that I went to recently, let me give you the address!”

maude rummaged through her handbag to retrieve her phone and look up said address, which gave harry and y/n enough time to exchange glances. harry knew that she did not want to involve her coworkers in her personal life, which meant that as of right now, she was probably going to lie. 

“yeah, I’m one lucky girl, huh? don’t worry about the address, though. I’m sure harry’s made reservations somewhere. thank you, though!”

he did know her too well. 

the smile and tone she put on were enough to fool the average person, so it was good enough for now. and honestly, he was glad she took the initiative, as he truly did not feel like having lovely maude know anything about them on a personal level. so, he played along.

“yes, I think we’re all set. we’ve been wanting to go there for a while, anyways. thank you so much, still!”

maude stopped looking for a phone and looked up at the supposed couple. “alright if you say so! I’ll just give y/n the address tomorrow so you lot can go there some other time. anyways, I’ll leave you two to it! have fun!” 

she bid her goodbye and walked towards the elevators once more. one last time she turns around with a devilish smile on her face as she practically shouts through the entire office: “also, I want to hear wedding bells for you two, soon! chop, chop!” 

she laughed as the pair went pale in the face and happily went on her merry way home. what she didn’t know was that the suggestion currently made both of them nauseous for a multitude of reasons that they, however, could not dwell on for too long. once maude left the building, the two of them forcefully faced each other.

y/n tried to look strong and determined. whatever happened, she wanted to stand her ground. harry had a goal that he was going to reach no matter what. 

“how are you?” he tried to ask carefully, but y/n wanted none of it.

“what are you doing here?” she asked, bitterness seething from her tone. 

harry knew the fight was pointless and wanted to get straight to his point. 

“look, I need to talk to you about something. it’s really important.” 

y/n first looked at him and then around to figure out her next move. a sudden need for fresh air made her speak up. 

“let’s go to the roof.”

/ / /

harry’s heart was practically beating in his throat. her presence made him utterly nervous and the stakes were really high, unfortunately. the quiet journey to their current location at the rooftop terrace of her office was tense enough, and he just hoped their conversation would be a little less so. he looked at a questioning y/n who had her arms crossed over her chest with her bum leaning on the railing. she looked unamused, so he had no time to waste.

“the wedding. mitch and sarah’s. it’s on friday.”

a sudden glimmer of surprise washed over her features. much to harry’s surprise, she had forgotten. in an instant, her face found purchase in her hands, a languid sigh leaving her mouth.

“fuck, I completely forgot. and the rehearsal dinner is-“

“tomorrow, yeah.” harry finished. 

“god, that’s why sarah called me. I thought it had something to do with you! I was supposed to get some things sorted out for-“

“I took care of it.” harry, once again, finished her sentence and chose to ignore the bad aftertaste of her statement.

her rushed rambling came to a halt and y/n gave harry a puzzled look. before she could ask, he explained himself.

“I figured that you might have some other shit to deal with, so I took care of it. you also took tomorrow off months ago, so don’t worry about it.”

she let his words linger. for some reason, she was more confused than before.

“uh, okay. thank you. why are you here then? you came all this way just to remind me?”

“well, no.” 

harry paused briefly, a sudden wave of anxiety hitting him. maybe this was too ridiculous but there was no going back now. he looked up and spoke.

“look… I know that things aren’t good between us at the moment, hell, I don’t even really know if an “us” exists right now. and I also know I’m not in the position to ask for any favours because-“

“-you kicked me out, correct.” 

once again, a defining silence hung in the air.

y/n looked at harry in way that somehow combined hurt, anger, disgust and maybe a tiny bit of longing, or so harry imagined. his own shame that is attached to the situation by thick, heavy chains pulled him down into a very specific sort of depression once more, almost knocking the air out of his lungs. he tries to move on, desperately.

“look, y/n-“

“say it. say that you kicked me out. then we can continue this conversation. say it first.” she demanded.

harry swallowed hard, the weight of y/n’s demand heavy in his heart. he understood that she needed him to acknowledge his actions, his mistake before he could ask anything of her. but even now, amidst all of the shame he felt, he was still hurt, himself. he was hurt by the fact that the woman he considered to be his forever didn’t trust him. he was hurt because she lied. he was hurt because she wouldn’t let him help her. he was hurt because apparently he was just another man to him, after everything. it made sense with her past, but the naive part in him thought they moved past it. alas, it seems like they haven’t. so, he says what she wants to hear. he closed his eyes for a brief moment, gathering his thoughts, and tried to summon the strength to confront the truth.

“yes, y/n. things went even more to shit between us after I kicked you out. after we fought because you lied to me and because we haven’t properly spoken in weeks. after I freaked out and did something that I will probably spend the rest of my life apologising to you for because it was an idiotic thing to do and truly, I am sorry. unbelievably so.”

y/n understood that she wasn’t the only one who was hurting. she was painfully aware of the fact that she had previously done some things to bring him to that point of mental and emotional torment. she knew that he wouldn't just treat her like that out of the blue or without reason, but even with all of that knowledge in her mind, it didn't make the situation any less painful. she looked at him with a look that could only be described as purely and utterly defeated. she thought about arguing with him, right then in there. she wanted to scream at him, to slap him right across his cheek and tell him to go to hell and to never speak to her again. but alas, she refrained from doing so. instead, she sighed, deeply, wiped away the flyaways that were stuck to her forehead and looked at him one more time.

“right. what is it that you wanted to talk about, harry? I really don’t have time for this.”

harry chose to ignore how her complete ignorance for his apology or her statement of utter disinterest stung him deep in his chest and continued.

“what I was going to say is that I know that I am in no position to ask her any favours because of-“ he paused and closed his eyes: “because of what happened. but I need us to ignore our personal drama for their sake. just for the rehearsal dinner and the wedding, that’s all.” 

y/n’s brows scrunched up in confusion. “what do you mean?”

harry felt more and more stupid as the conversation went on.

“look, they're some of my closest friends and they’ve been waiting for this wedding for too long. I know that sarah always acts like she’s whatever about anything and that mitch pretends he’s too cool to actually want a nice wedding, but I know that they both secretly deeply care about it, and I don't want to be the person to spoil it all. I don't want to be the person who draws the attention onto himself. I don't want our personal lives taking any attention away from them and potentially ruin it all for them, I could never live with myself if I or we did that to them. so, I guess what I'm trying to ask you is: do you think there is a possibility that we could press pause on this whole thing? the fight, I mean. I'm not saying that we need to do it for the entire week, only for the rehearsal dinner and for the wedding. let’s just try to be normal and grit our teeth the entire way through, if we have to. I’m only asking because I know that sarah would do everything in her power to figure out what was wrong, even if she was in the middle of that fucking dance floor and is supposed to be having the night or for life. I know that they will probably pull us aside and ask us a million questions because they've done it before, but I cannot do that to them. not on their wedding day. not when we should be giving them all of our attention. we might’ve spoiled this for us but I cannot and will not do even the slightest bit to spoil it for them.”

harry paused his rant to look at y/n, almost entirely sure to get rejected. however, he’s surprised to find her deep in thought. almost as if she was actually considering it.

“so, what do you say?” 

y/n knew how ridiculous this entire thing would probably end up being. she knew that if she even had to pretend for a second to hold his hand, or to laugh at his jokes, to dance with him or - god forbid - kiss him, she would end up either crying in pure agony, throw up in a random corner, or actually go clinically insane. but, despite it all, she understood where he was coming from and she was well aware that his request was rooted in place of sincerity. hell, the selfish part in her was even excited because this way she’d have two more days with him. two more days of pretending like everything was fine and nothing was bothering them. because realistically, it would all be over afterwards, anyway. so, she did the unthinkable-

“okay, I’m in.”

harry stared in disbelief. “really? you’re absolutely sure?” 

without missing a beat, she nodded. “I mean, you do have a point. I wouldn't want to spoil their wedding plans either. I'll try my best to suck it up for two days and we'll see where we’ll go from there, deal?” 

she stretched her hand out for him to shake. he looked at it hesitantly and decided that now was the best time to ask for the other pressing request on his mind. so, before shaking her hand, he continued.

“there is one more thing, y/n…” 

she pulled her hand back and nodded for him to go on.

“listen, you can absolutely say no to this, but I just wanted to put it on the table in case you were interested. I- I don’t even know where you’re staying right now. are you at jane’s?” 

she nodded once more, annoyed at how well he could calculate her moves.

“right. so, you know that our home-“

“your place.” she deadpanned. “I really don’t think I can refer to that place as ‘home’ right now, but go on.” 

once again her words stung but he tried his best to understand.

“right, uh, my place. you know it’s about two hours from the venue and getting there from jane’s apartment would make the journey almost 40 minutes longer. also, all your stuff is still at my place and I might need some help carrying all the things that sarah asked me to collect. also, we were supposed to help with the setup-“

“are you asking me to stay over?”

truthfully, he was asking her to come back, but he knew that it wasn’t going to be this easy. maybe, at this point, it was entirely impossible. but he tried his best, anyway.” 

“I’m just saying it would make everything run a bit more smoothly tomorrow. like I said, you can say no. I’ll just come and pick you up from jane’s or we can meet up at mine beforehand… whatever works for you.” 

once again, y/n’s selfish side overtook her mind. she suddenly became hyperaware of the fact that she could possibly share a bed with him tonight, have him wrap his strong arms around her sleeping figure and feel peaceful for the first time in what feels like forever. in another reality he might even fuck her senseless, and she wouldn’t even have to fake her orgasm. in another reality she wasn’t constantly stressed because of work and wasn’t constantly anxious because everything was falling apart around her. in another world it was just harry and her spending the night together in their shared home, doing all the things that couples do, before they help their friends with their rehearsal dinner. harry would never have to lock himself up in his studio for hours on end to finish a song or be on tour for months and months on end, and y/n wouldn’t have to stare at a screen until her eyes were dry and work on reports and samples until the early hours of the morning. it would just be them, together, and it would be blissful.

she knew that none of those things were actually going to happen, but the sheer possibility was enough for her to agree to his proposal.

“you’re right, it’ll be easier this way. let’s do it. I’ll just have to pick up my stuff from jane’s but I’ll head to yours after.”

harry didn’t want to show it but he was filled to the brim with hope. maybe they could resolve things after all. 

“well then, we have a deal, y/n.”

this time, he was the one stretching out his hand for her to shake. she looked at it momentarily before meeting him in the middle and intertwining her hand with his. and then, they just stood there. hands interlocked and gazes on one another. time stops for a moment, both of them focusing on the feeling of touching each other again. neither of them really wanted to let go but eventually, they had to. y/n was the first one going for release but before she could let go, harry squeezed her hand tighter. he spoke before she could interject. 

“for what it’s worth, y/n, I’m willing to fight for this. until the very end. I don’t care how corny I sound, either. I mean it and I want you to know.” he said, pure and raw honesty dripping from his voice like honey. 

she couldn’t say anything, she couldn’t even look at him. all she could do was to let go of his hand and shift her gaze towards the sky. it was way too beautiful outside for her insides to feel as stormy as they did. 

“you should go, I’ll meet you at yours later.” 

her response left harry feeling cold all over. it was okay, though. he just hoped that they could be better, one day.

“right, then. see you tonight.”

/ / /

shortly after harry had left, she decided that her work day was over, as well. it was getting close to 7 pm and she’d finished her work so she wanted to leave as fast as she could. everyone else was already gone, anyway. so, she collected her belongings and made her way to her boss’s office to officially sign out for the day.

she knocked softly and was met with a cold “yes?”

y/n opened the door to find her boss, cynthia, at her desk with a coffee in one hand and future designs in the other. as always, the woman looked uninterested, bored and arrogant. a true the devil wears prada type of villain. y/n walked into her office, set any and all reports down on to her desk and tried to make her way out again when cynthia called for her, again. 

“where do you think you're going?”

y/n turned around, dreading what was coming next. 

“excuse me?”

“you need to look over maude’s mood boards. they’re sloppy and entirely useless. I need them done by tonight.”

y/n had no energy left. usually that meant that she would wordlessly do the overtime. right now, however, she wished for nothing more than to be asleep next to harry with his scent surrounding her and his warmth embracing her. so, she did something that she hadn’t done before.

“I won’t be able to do that, cynthia. please, ask maude to rework them. I have tomorrow off and need to be up early and-“

“I didn't ask for your entire life story y/n. I just need you to redo maude’s work, that is all.”

it was as if she couldn’t possibly fathom that y/n had denied her request. so, she went again.

“cynthia, I'm going to go home now. I honestly don't care who finishes that work for you but it won't be me. have a good night.”

adrenaline rushed through her veins as she made her way to the door. unfortunately, before she could leave, cynthia made sure to leave a mark.

“you know I gave you that promotion because I thought you were capable of handling it, right? not because I thought that you were going to end up being lazy once you have it. I can take it away from you just as fast as I gave it to you. I want you to know that before you decide to go home now and enjoy your day off tomorrow. we'll see how long you stay at this company with this kind of attitude.”

y/n turned around, red in the face with rage. “you can call me a lot of things cynthia. you can call me an overachiever or you can call me a pushover or a perfectionist or a crippling workaholic; all those things are true. I know one thing though, I am not lazy. since the day I started working here I have worked my ass off to prove myself. I don’t need your excuse for recognition, but I demand some fucking respect.”

cynthia and y/n looked at each other like gladiators would look at one another in the colosseum, fighting for their lives.

“y/n, if you seriously expect me to kiss your forehead and give you a gold star for doing the work I expect you to get done here, then you have chosen the wrong company to work for. I would suggest you start to toughen up a little and look alive if you see yourself having a career in this industry. no go, do whatever you need to do. I’ll get someone else to do the work that you were too incapable to do.”

y/n wanted to pour that piping hot coffee over her head and watch her scream. she didn’t, though. instead, she was left to think about a moment that harry and her shared about a year ago; a fond memory. 

“dude, I swear to god, she just fired the girl out of nowhere just because she couldn't get her the damn bag from the other city of the city in like 10 minutes which is, oh I don’t know, physically impossible!? and before she fired her she basically verbally abused her in front of the entire team, and I just had to stand there and say nothing! what kind of a person does this kind of thing? like, is she crazy? is she actually the devil?” 

y/n shoved another spoonful of pasta into her mouth while harry gave her an amused look. he tried desperately not to laugh, but the rosy tint on her cheeks that she got out of sheer frustration was nothing short of adorable. luckily, y/n started chuckling pretty quickly herself. 

“and then, oh my god, and then the girl just started crying and we all thought she would be a puddle on the floor, but no! she starts throwing shit on the floor and literally called cynthia a ‘raging fucking nitwit of a cunt that deserved to rot the deepest pits of hell’ and suddenly the entire office was involved!” - another laugh - “soon enough, security comes barging in and literally carry the girl out while she’s flailing in steve’s arms like a hyperactive, very angry puppy, and god, harry, I felt so bad! but it was so funny! not the fact that she was getting fired, god, no! but the way she handled it was so iconic! I wanted to kiss the ground she walked on!”

by the end of y/n’s story, both her and harry were laughing until their tummies hurt. harry continued to listen to her crazy work stories during dinner, after dinner when he washed the dishes, on the couch with her laying on his chest and him playing with her hair, and ideally, for the rest of his damn life.

the memory made y/n giggle. 

“something funny, dear? do you need a cordial invitation to get out of my office?”

y/n just smiled. 

“good night, cynthia.”

with that, she was on her merry way. 

///

“and you’re absolutely sure that this is a good idea?” 

jane stood before her in her doorway. y/n had told her everything as soon as she got home and they ended up talking for hours. 

“honestly, no. but I have a gut feeling that this might be the right thing to do.”

concern is etched deeply into jane’s face. a heavy sigh and a shake of her head later, she replied.

“look, just be careful. and no matter what, you can always come back. you have a key and my bed always has an open space for you. no shame.”

y/n felt so much love for her concerned friend in that moment that she stopped the act of tying her shoes to give her a tight hug. “I know.” she mumbled into her shoulder. “thank you.” 

they detangle and y/n grabs her duffle off the floor. one last knowing look is exchanged before y/n takes the first stride towards her car. jane waves her goodbye. when she sees y/n leaving her driveway she grabs her phone in an instant to send a text to the one and only. two words, and nothing but sincerity behind them.

“good luck.”

/ / /

6.3k, not entirely proofread, lowercase intended

after a billion million years, here's part four. i know it's a bit of a filler but I have some nice stuff planned for the remainder of this story, so please bear with me.

thank you and all the love <3

-ve !!

[addisonnie]

you, me, mary-jane, & some sharks! (3)

summary: dealer!ellie has an interesting date idea… certainly it has nothing to do with fish.

warnings: cursing, weed, edibles, smooching, bad jokes

request: “loves part 2!!! what if dealer!ellie’s first date with reader was to an aquarium and they take edibles beforehand👀”

a/n: yeah im fucking insane what about it! simply can’t stop writing it’s actually funny at this point. im down so fucking astronomically horribly terribly unequivocally bad. im sorry i got high and fucking pumped this out dealer ellie style. it would be a crime to NOT smoke and write this. it’s true i fear. enjoy!

part 1 —> part 2

———

Sleeping with Ellie is…interesting.

She’s a human starfish, also a human furnace. Yet, also a human ice cube? Her favorite pastime is pressing the bare soles of her freezing cold feet onto your legs and she vehemently refuses to move them off because “you’re so warm, baby!” Another favorite of hers is angrily ripping the covers away from her body in a sweaty, sleep-induced rage, then proceeding to curse you out for stealing all of the covers.

“Babe. Give me the fucking blanket. You’re a hoarder!” She moans and groans all night. She talks in her sleep. And, to top it all off, she is a stage five clinger.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The sun tries its best to slip through Ellie’s blackout curtains, to no avail. Family Guy on the tv provides the only sliver of light throughout her overtly messy room, aside from the singular strand of almost burnt-out string lights. ‘For the ambiance’ she tells you.

Ellie is wrapped happily around you while she sleeps. One of her legs is bent and pressed in between your thighs and her arm is folded and shoved under your head, bent at the wrist to tangle her fingers in your hair. Her other arm somehow made its way under your shirt as she slept, hand cupping your breast. She’s pressed so tightly to your back that your breathing easily melds with hers, pert nipples pressing harshly into your back; The feeling has you grinding down onto Ellie’s thigh.

She stirs for a moment, tugging on your hair and squeezing at your breast, “stop fuckin’ moving.”

Oh, yeah. Ellie is also not a morning person.

You hum happily and turn around in her arms, she opens her eyes and immediately rolls them, letting out the loudest, most obnoxious groan you’ve ever heard in your life. Her hands resituate themselves, one moving to squeeze your ass between her fingers, the other bending around your neck and pulling you into her.

“Good morning my Ellie Bellie!” She rolls her eyes again.

“No. Too fucking early. Will you pass me that joint behind you?” She points to the bedside table behind you and nods her head in the general direction.

Your body contorts in her arms to be able to reach the joint and for someone who literally asked you to get it for her, she’s awfully pissed off that you had the audacity to move from her grasp. When your fingers wrap around the rolled paper and, conveniently, the lighter sitting next to it, she yanks you back into her chest and smacks a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Here, baby.” Ellie grabs the joint from your grasp, and, for a moment, you think she’s going to light it for herself. Wrong! She holds it between two fingers and presses it to your lips, “for the Princess.”

Like always, she lights it for you and holds it while you inhale, “hang on, wait—“

She grips your chin between her long fingers and pulls your face toward hers, “—sharing is caring.”

You inhale the smoke fully before moving your lips to ghost over hers, exhaling the smoke into her mouth. Ellie maintains eye contact while she sucks in the smoke, breaking it only to turn her head and blow the smoke off to the side, “thanks, baby.”

Fuck, that was hot. Like, really hot.

And, again, the joint is being held to your lips. Inhale, exhale, Ellie’s turn.

You’ve moved to sit in between her bent legs, facing her while resting your cheek against her knee. She’s intently watching the episode of Family Guy playing behind you, the joint is hanging from her parted lips and you admire her for a moment. Her eyes widen suddenly and she sucks in a gasp—immediately choking on the smoke she was supposed to be inhaling.

“Jesus—babe! Let it out.” Your hand roughly pats her on the back while she continues to cough out smoke, her eyes still glued to the tv.

The coughing fit lasts a few minutes before she’s standing up with a force so strong you’re immediately knocked over on the bed. She quickly strides to stand beside the tv, her eyes are wild and her eyebrows are almost touching her hairline. Lips parted, she’s panting while pointing to the tv.

“Look at it. LOOK. At it.” She’s making wild pointing gestures to the scene playing on the tv and you’re extremely confused,

“Ellie…what have we been smoking. Are you okay? Are you on something?” She scoffs immediately.

“Babe! Look at the fucking tv! Aquarium! Edibles! You! Me! We!”

“Actually, that’s Lois and Peter.” Another scoff, followed by what could be the largest, most dramatic eye roll you’ve ever seen.

She drops her hands to her sides and gives you an are-you-fucking-kidding-me-right-now look, “well. It should be us. It could be us! Today!”

Ellie holds both of her hands up in a ‘stop’ motion and gestures for you to wait right where you are. She quickly runs out of her bedroom —you are suddenly very, very grateful that she has no roommates because where are her pants?— and runs down the short hallway leading to her living room. Just as fast as she leaves, she returns. A plastic bag is gripped in one of her hands, it’s full of brownies.

“These. Aquarium.” The bag is flown, full force, at your head and she laughs when it bounces from your forehead onto the duvet.

“You are, like, way too excited over this. What happens when you’re tripping balls and boom there’s a shark? What then? Because I’d be pissing my pants.” She clambers onto the bed and quickly straddles you, holding your face in her hands.

“Babe. Baby. Please. Pretty please! I swear to fucking god I’ll protect you from the shark. From all the sharks, ever.” Alright, it’s official. There’s no way to win an argument against Ellie Williams because the minute she pulls those goddamn puppy-dog eyes it’s over. She’s won immediately.

“Oh, fine. Gimme the fuckin’ brownie.” She smiles like a kid in a candy shop and drags your face to hers, pressing wet and sloppy kisses anywhere she can reach. Her fingers are digging into your cheeks and she annunciates each kiss with a ‘mwah’ sound before moving on to press a different kiss in a new location. You’re giggling before you know it, the annoyance of being smacked in the face with a packet of brownies at 9:37am immediately dissipates with each kiss.

She crawls out of your lap and presses a final kiss to your forehead, “get dressed, mamacita! It’s trippin’ time.”

You cringe, “mamacita? Trippin time? Who are you and what have you done with Ellie?”

“Oh, for fucks sake. You are hard to please, woman.” Her rant is followed by the twentieth eye roll of the morning. How can someone be so chock-full of sass this early in the morning?

She bounces over to her closet and rips the folding doors open, “hm. What to wear.”

Her fingers take over the several options in her closet before landing on a gray sweatshirt, then a pair of baggy blue jeans. She pulls them both on before turning back to face you. Nothing has changed. You’re still wearing her flannel from the day before and your underwear—and you’re still cuddled up in bed! Under the covers, too!

“Get your lazy ass up! The clock is ticking, babe! Aquarium time!” It’s your turn for an eye roll. You move to sit on the edge of the bed and take a glance toward Ellie’s open closet.

“Pass me a flannel? Please?”

“Anything for the Princess.” She rips a random blue one off of its hanger and gets on one knee in front of you, bowing while she holds out the raggedy clump of clothing.

“Ah, why thank you, my kind jester.”

Her head whips up immediately, “jester?! I’m a fucking jester to you? Rude.”

You’re both giggling while she unbuttons your current top, slipping it off of your arms.

“Oh—and can I borrow one of your tank tops, too? A white one, it’ll match better.”

She smiles and shakes her head, “stealing my entire closet, are you?”

A white wife beater is fished out of her drawer and she motions for you to lift your arms, slipping the tank top onto your body. She adjusts the fabric over your chest and pauses when she notices your nipples poking through the fabric, “you’re so fucking hot.”

Her thumbs brush over both of your nipples and you shiver, “free the nip and all, but put this on. I’d like to keep those nipples to myself, thank you very much.”

She grabs the new flannel and drags it up your arms, buttoning a few of the buttons in the middle and letting one side of the shirt slouch down your shoulder, perfect for pressing stray kisses. Her hands grab yours and she quickly pulls you to stand up in front of her, “pants time!”

Your jeans are crumbled in the corner of her room and she swiftly retrieves them before skipping back over to you. She squats down and taps your thigh, signaling you to lift your leg and slide it down into the jeans she’s holding open for you. While squatting, she drags the pants up your legs and presses a sweet kiss below your navel before she zips and buttons your jeans.

She takes a step back, “ah! Look at that pretty girl!”

You blush and turn your face away from her, “quit it.”

———

There is no time to slip your shoes on before Ellie is dragging you out of her front door and into her car. Both of your converse piled on the floor of the passenger side, waiting to be put on in the aquarium parking lot.

If there’s one thing anyone should know about Ellie Williams, it’s that she can’t drive for shit.

She’s much more focused on having her hand on your thigh, running up and down the length of it. Her other hand often leaves the steering wheel to change the song playing, which forces you to lean across her body to steer for her. She hits curbs. She slams on the breaks (and, yes. She does the soccer-mom arm thing. Knocks the wind out of you every single time.) She has the most intense yet hilarious case of road rage.

“Fucking asshole! He just cut me off! Did you fucking see that, babe?!” She’s gesturing wildly at the car in front of her and you’d be lying if you said watching her get fired up like this didn’t make you the slightest bit horny.

“I saw, babe. That guy’s an asshole.”

She nods, “dickhead. Massive, huge, big-fat-dickhead.”

Road rage looks good on her.

She can’t park for shit either. You’re sure the people next to her will leave some rude note about how she should go back to driving school or burn her license.

Her car is almost completely out of the lines and she doesn’t bother to check or back up to fix it, she simply unbuckles her seatbelt and leans over the center console to unbuckle yours as well.

“A brownie for you, malady.” She holds the bag open and passes it over to you, “should we split one?”

She nods, “yeah, probably a good idea.”

You rip the brownie in two and pass her half, “well. Here we go.”

————

It’s embarrassing when you realize you’re the annoying amusement-park-line-couple that everyone on the internet shits on for being clingy and PDA obsessed. You’re walking inside the aquarium, one hand holding Ellie’s, the other arm reaches across your body to hold onto her (rather toned) bicep. She constantly leans her head down to press a kiss to your forehead and at one point you watched a small child pinch up his face and make a gagging sound.

“Fucking kids, man. That’s shark bait, right there.”

You bark out a laugh and grip her arm, “Ellie Williams!”

She laughs in response and drags you in the direction of the aquarium tunnel, “this is gonna be so sick, babe. I can feel it.”

It’s a long, long tunnel running under a massive fish tank. Would you even call it a fish tank? There’s way more than just fish. Sharks, stingrays, crabs, is that a mermaid? Oh, you are so high.

“Ellie. Babe.” You’re turning to face her and tugging on her arm like a child. She’s completely enthralled in the exhibit surrounding her: jaw dropped open, eyes blown wide.

You tug on her hand again, “baby.”

She blinks a few times and turns to you, “woah.”

Honestly, you forgot what you were going to say to her. You drop her hand and walk over to the glass, pressing your palms onto it and staring into the water before you.

“Oh my god. I’m so gonna break you guys out of here.” Ellie frowns at the loss of contact and moves to stand next to you. She pauses for a moment before pressing her face into the glass. Her nose is pressed so far into the exhibit that it bends and folds into her face,

“We’re gonna fucking break you all out. Oh my god. Jailbreak. Babe, I’m like…I’m like fucking AquaMan.” She removes her face and turns to face you, eyes glazed over and droopy. The glass beside her is smudged and you can clearly see the imprint of her face on it.

You remove your hands from the exhibit and turn to face her, “you good?”

“I’m so fucking good—holy shit!” A squeak leaves her lips and she immediately surges forward to grab you as a massive shadow passes overhead. You look upward and cower into her arms when you spot an absolutely huge, scratch that, gargantuan, mantaray passes overhead. Holy. Fucking. Shit.

“Babe…can we go to the penguin exhibit instead?”

Ellie nods immediately and drags you out from the tunnel.

———

The penguins are much more entertaining and much less terrifying than those fucking sharks and whatever else was in that tank. You and Ellie sit side-by-side happily in front of the penguin exhibit, her shoulder is pressed into yours and her hand rests on your knee.

“This is much less terrifying.” You nod.

“I actually think I did pee myself a little bit.” Ellie nods back and responds, “me too, if I’m being honest.”

She leans her head on your shoulder, “you peed your pants? You said you were gonna protect me from the sharks. You can’t do that if you’re pissing yourself too!”

You rest your head on top of hers and she scoffs at your outburst, “I can fight and piss myself at the same time. It’s called multitasking.”

“I might be really fucking high right now but I also think that I am in love with you.” The words tumble from your lips and in any other situation you would slap the absolute shit out of yourself for confessing your love on the first date, but in this moment, right here, it was the only thing on your mind.

Without moving or looking up, Ellie responds, “I’ve been in love with you since you made a breaking bad joke about your old dealer. I wasn’t lying when I told you I couldn’t sell anymore ‘cos I’d fall in love, yanno.”

What a strange way to confess your love, you think. Here you are, with your plug-turned-girlfriend, sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the floor of an aquarium, high out of your fucking mind, watching a couple juvenile penguins get their daily fish treat. It’s perfect.

Ellie finally moves her head to look at you, she smiles softly and leans forward to press her lips to yours. It’s a sweet kiss, sweeter than any candy you could ever try, and sweeter than those god awful pot brownies you shared earlier. Her nose squishes into yours when she attempts to deepen the kiss and you giggle into her mouth. Your eyes are half open and you can’t focus fully on the kiss when you catch a glimpse of the penguins behind Ellie. Now… wait a minute.

Did that penguin just fucking wave at you? You swear to god it fucking waved.

You pull back from Ellie and gawk at the penguin looming over her shoulder, behind the glass.

“Ellie, I swear to fucking god that penguin just fucking waved at me.”

She is in shambles immediately, laughing so hard that she’s clutching her stomach and gasping for air. Salty tears slide down her freckled cheeks and she slaps your knee over and over while she tries to calm herself down.

Her fingers scrub at her cheeks while she tries to wipe the tears away, “alright. Time to go home.”

You make her promise that you’ll never, ever, go back to the aquarium while high again. Not if there will be penguins involved, at least.

[moonstruckme]

hiii! idk if i already requested this because I'm very forgetful but do you think you could do a tasm!peter fic with a bit of hurt/comfort? maybe r's just really burnt out and tired from school and studying and stress? thank u sm <3 i adore your work

No worries dude, you didn't! Thanks sm for requesting <33

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 681 words

Peter sets your coffee down in front of you with a kiss to the top of your head. You raise it to your lips on autopilot, blowing gently. 

“Thanks,” you murmur. 

“No sweat.” His hand lingers on your shoulder. Instead of going back to his video game, he leans down to peer at your laptop screen. “Hey, this isn’t Jane Austen.” 

“No,” you confirm. Ordinarily, this is where you’d think up something witty to say. Like you would know the difference, science geek or I didn’t know you knew how to read words that didn’t end in -ion. You find you don’t have the energy. “I turned in the Austen essay earlier today. This one’s for my Flannery O’Connor class.” 

“What?” Peter’s voice pitches upward excitedly. He tugs your shoulder so you’re facing him, crowding your eyeline. “Baby, that’s amazing! You’re done!”

“I’m not done,” you say, covering your disappointment with a shrug and a small smile. “I still have this essay due by the end of the week.” 

“But you’re done with the Austen one!” Your boyfriend won’t allow his ebullience to be dampened, giving your shoulder a happy squeeze. “You worked on that for days, sweetheart, it must feel so great to have it turned in.”

You take another sip of your coffee, refocusing on the blinking cursor on your screen. Your eyes ache. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

“Hey.” Peter’s hand cuts across your vision, turning your face back towards him. “You deserve to celebrate at least a little, don’t you think? How long do you have until this essay is due?” 

“A couple days.” 

“Sick.” His touch leaves your cheek, and you hear the click of your laptop shutting. “Take the night off.” 

“Peter.” Your sigh is long and heavy. You swear you feel some essential part of you leave with it. “I can’t. I need to get this done.” 

He works his hand between your back and the desk chair, encouraging you out of it. “You’ve got plenty of time to do it,” he reassures you, palm finding its favored spot on the small of your back to guide you towards the sofa. “I felt weird about giving you coffee at night anyways. We’ll switch it out for some tea, get cozy on the couch, just take it easy for the night. You could use a break.” 

You really could, but you’re not sure you can afford one. You cast a glance back toward your laptop, abandoned and beckoning with a cold imperativeness from your desk. “Let me just get this paragraph down…” 

But Peter is determined, setting one hand on each of your shoulders to push you down onto the cushions. “It’ll still be there tomorrow,” he says, sitting next to you and settling you against his side before you can try to get up. He tilts his head as he meets your gaze, brown eyes sharp and more discerning than you think you’re comfortable with. “Look, I wasn’t gonna pull this card, but you’re not acting like yourself. This whole quiet and ghostlike thing is freaking me out.” 

He turns up a corner of his mouth to let you know he’s at least partly joking. You crack a smile in return. Peter pecks your cheek and goes on, encouraged. 

“Just give me tonight, sweetheart. If you wanna go back to Flannery at nine tomorrow morning, I won’t stop you, but give yourself at least a few hours off.” 

You shouldn’t be surprised he’d remembered which class your essay was for, but you are. You suspect that if you looked hard enough, you’d eventually find an encyclopedia your boyfriend has filled with tiny things to remember about you. It’s the only explanation. 

You really are tired. 

“Okay,” you say, and he actually fist-pumps, your favorite dork. “Just let me make the tea, okay? You never steep it long enough.” 

Peter rolls his eyes, smiling as he kisses the skin next to your eye. “Such a perfectionist,” he says fondly. “How about I make us hot chocolate instead, and then you won’t have to worry about it?” 

[cheesecakeislazy]

JEFF THE KILLER HEADCANONS BECAUSE FUCK YOU! (Jk I love you and hope your life is great)

1. Him and BeN are besties for life, ride or die, would suck the poison out of each others dicks (not gay though)

2. Jeff has eye drops on him 24/7 so he doesn’t go fucking blind

3. Jeff has anger issues, one moment he’s chill as fuck and then EJ told him something that pisses him off- and now there’s a stab wound in Toby, a hole in the wall, and an angry Slenderman.

4. Jeff is totally straight. He totally thinks boobs are awesome. And totally only boobs. (He’s bisexual and swears on god he’s straight.)

5. He wakes up at 2 pm because he hates being awake in the mornings

6. He’s a metal head. He blasts music from his room so loud you can hear it across the mansion (slender mansion AU)

7. His deep gravely ass voice is perfect for metal songs

8. He likes to paint his nails black, and black only any other color is fucking gay

9. His vocabulary is 90% cuss words

10. He rarely showers. Ironically the gamer showers more often than him. Jeff prefers to be a stinky son of a bitch (take that fangirls)

11. He makes up for it with his dental hygiene (kinda) he brushes them twice a day and they look perfect (mostly)

12. He has extra sharp canines

13. He named his knife “Knifu” aka his knife waifu

14. The knife has been used so much that it constantly reeks of bleach and blood; it has permanent blood stains on it

15. Jeff bites his nails pretty often

16. Jeff isn’t good with throwing knives- he also isn’t that good at stabbing…

17. Jeff literally just stabs and stabs until he thinks his victim is dead, he doesn’t know any major artery’s (did I spell that right?)

18. Jeff is dyslexic

19. Jeff is horrible at math but refuses to admit it

20. Jeff wears eyeliner but refuses to admit it

21. He secretly loves the color pink but refuses to admit it (see a pattern here yet?)

22. Jeff is super sensitive to light due to the fact he doesn’t have any eyelids

23. He wears black gloves because he has burn marks on his hands and hates it when people look at them (fingerless gloves as his fingers aren’t burnt)

24. Jeff really wants tattoos and piercings but can’t get any due to his skin being extremely sensitive and fragile

25. Jeff hates the sun, it hurts his eyes and skin

26. Jeff likes going to playgrounds at night because 1. Fucking swings are awesome and 2. Creepy

27. Fucker is 5’11 and constantly calls BeN a midget

28. Jeff had a small crush on Toby for a while and lowkey has a small crush on BeN but…

29. Jeff is highkey downbad for EJ (it’s one-sided)

30. If Jeff ever tried to cook, he would burn everything

31. Jeff is fucking terrified of fire

32. Sometimes Ben likes to scare Jeff shitless by lighting a small fire inside Bens hands infront of Jeff

33. Sometimes Jeff throws Ben inside a kiddy pool and watches him panic about drowning (he is fully above the water)

34. Despite the fact Jeff and Ben both fuck with each other and their fears, they do it in tame ways to ensure the other doesn’t actually have a panic attack of any kind

35. Jeff lives in sweatpants, jeans are for losers and shorts are gay

36. T-shirts and hoodies, Jeff literally does not own a single sweater, long sleeve, or tank top.

37. His favorite T-shirt says “Fuck me in my ass (but not in a gay way)”

38. His second favorite says “Emo metal loving slut”

39. Both and almost all of his t-shirts are black with either white or red/pink writing

40. It is Jeff’s goal to have every photo taken of him (with permission) to have him flipping off the camera

41. Jeff watches South Park but thinks Family guy is stupid

42. He tries really hard to get on Liu/Sully’s good side but his anger issues usually get in the way

43. Jeff and Nina are actually really good friends that lowkey view each other as family

44. Jeff and Nina love to piss each other off constantly (Ben will prank whoever he is asked to)

45. Jeff has tried to kill Jane quite a few times, and Jane is constantly trying to kill him

46. Jeff personally isn’t into weed but he doesn’t judge BeN for being a stoner lowkey

47. Jeff is a virgin but he wouldn’t be nervous at all about having sex

48. Jeff is a kinky bastard

49. Jeff likes a good bowl of strawberry ice cream

50. Jeff likes banana smoothies

51. Jeff owns a few Nirvana T-shirts

[volterran-wine]

Hello again dearest Nathalie, I hope you are doing well. Some time ago I asked how the whole glittering in the sun worked and in your answer you mentioned that every vampire looks different in sunlight. You, for example, mentioned that Caius has a pearlescent look to him and now I've been wondering for a while what the other volturi would look like. Could you make like a list with pictures of what it would look like or if that is too much work (which I totally understand, so no pressure at all) just a list without pictures? I hope you have a good day/week/month :) <3

• — 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐆𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐦

Ah yes, I remember this question quite fondly.

It was difficult for me to find pictures that truly spoke to how I imagine their glow, so for now I have decided to answer it in written form. Volterran-Wine does in fact own a large crystal selection she has studied to find the right answers.

𝐀𝐫𝐨: The first you would see is a greenish hue, like oxidised copper. There would still be those hints of warmth however, with a discreet sheen of sparkle.

𝐂𝐚𝐢𝐮𝐬: He almost has a pearlescent finish to his skin and there’s a slight reddish hue when he enters certain types of light.

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬: They say he once shone more brightly in the sun, but now vampires compare this kings skin to dulled brass

𝐒𝐮𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚:  This queen shifts beautifully like the darkest garnet, with a glitter-like shift that leaves those around her spellbound when they see it.

𝐀𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐚: Many have compared her skin to the glint of steal, speckled with red like a bloodstone when the sun hits her just right.

𝐃𝐢𝐝𝐲𝐦𝐞: Once upon a time she resembled an opalite with a pinkish hue, now few remembers how vibrant of a sparkle Didyme once had.

—

𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐢: Our resident tracker resembles a bronze statue in it's prime, almost bordering on a golden hue, not unlike the crystal tigers eye.

𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱: The way Felix shines in the sunlight is the same way a great mountain glimmers in a bronzed and golden glow if there are copper minerals deep within the earth. It is warm and inviting.

𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐞: Her glow is very particular, it is soft and almost has a translucent quality to it. The best way I can describe it is that Jane looks like living and breathing selenite.

𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐜: Seeing as though him and Jane share a lot of the same genetic makeup, they are quite similar. However, Alec has a slight blue-ish tint to his glow as well.

𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐝𝐢: This woman looks like an Opalite, come to life with a rosy hue beneath it all. Among the Volturi she is also one of the vampires who do in fact have a certain glitter to their skin.

𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚: She is one of the few that partially glitter, though she gleams more if you ask those around her. If you look at Renata for too long it is like a duochrome of sienna and burnt orange.

𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧: Under the correct lighting Corin is like a pearl, but most of the time she looks like the iridescence you find inside of shells,

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐚: She looks like a marble statue come to life, the softest glow you will ever see.

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐨𝐧: Some say that Afton nearly looks like a silver statue when he moves under the sunlight, it is almost blinding with a soft blue-ish hue.

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐨: He has this quality about his skin that is like smoky quartz, you expect it to be quite dark and dull-but the shifts in colorur is just out of this world. His tattoos almost seem to take up a life of their own when he steps under direct sunlight as well.

[jane-simmer]

sul sul! my names jane, i'm from the uk and i love to spend my free time reading, writing book reviews and playing video games, especially ts4 (duh!)

i've wanted to make a simblr for a while but then i got burnt out from playing too much :( i really wanted to get back into the game, so i'm hoping that posting some of my sims might help me enjoy playing again!

i mostly play around in cas making new sims and giving them little backstories, so i might post a few of them here, as well as creating lookbooks, sharing my favourite cc and maybe doing a few cas challenges as well ☆

i'd really like to find some active mutuals, so please interact so we can check out each others content :-)