#and i have crazy writers block rn
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firetreeclans · 1 year ago
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immediately the lesbian meme is outdated and willowmist is bi or pan actually. good for her i guess!
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doecrossing · 2 years ago
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why is university structured in a way that stresses everyone tf out. i dont think this is actually conducive to learning.
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70spunkstars · 1 year ago
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I want to start writing so bad but I’m in a block and idek what to write 😐
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girltomato · 4 months ago
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sweet girl: the first meeting
max verstappen x reader
warnings: alcohol mention, swearing, negative internal dialogue (?)
max's brain short circuits when he meets a beautiful woman
sweet girl masterlist
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somewhere in europe, late summer 2021
Max very rarely went to sponsor events, he didn't really need to considering he was practically a walking billboard most days but he supposed free alcohol wasn't all too bad a compromise for having to socialise with strangers. He'd already had all the typical conversations, the how do you dos and nice to meet yous. Surely by now he had played his part, no one would really know if he just snuck out now.
His attempt at a subtle escape however was quickly trampled as he not so subtly collided with someone. Years of reaction training had his arms moving before his brain even registered the situation, grabbing onto a pair of shoulders as he steadied himself and the stranger in front of him.
"I am so sorry," he apologised, pulling his hands away from the shockingly beautiful woman in front of him. Just his luck, of course he embarrassed himself in front of an absolute ten.
A tinkling laugh distracted him from his misery, the woman's eyes lighting up as she giggled at him. Fucking hell, the earth could just swallow him up right now and he'd be grateful.
"Please don't apologise, it was my fault I wasn't watching where I was going." Her giggles quickly settled into flushed cheeks and an easy smile and she held out a hand to greet him, "I'm Y/n, nice to meet you."
Max quickly wiped his sweaty palms against his shirt before grabbing her smaller hand and giving it a polite, firm shake. God, her hands were soft, he didn't know skin could actually feel like silk, warm and buttery in his hand like it could melt if he held it too long.
"Uhh, Verstappen, Max, no wait, Max Verstappen. Nice to meet you too." he replied, his tongue tripping over his words, still gripping her hand. Oh God, he was gonna go home and lock himself away in his house and never go outside ever again, he thought as he forced himself to drop her hand.
An awkward silence fell between the pair as Max internally begged his body to cool his flushed cheeks and to stop fucking smiling to no avail.
“Sorry, I got in your way.” Y/n concluded, moving aside and gesturing towards the room as if giving him a signal to pass. Was he really going to walk away? If he could just calm down and get a grip, he had the chance to talk to the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on, with her pretty eyes and sparkly smile and her fruity perfume, raspberry he guessed.
A voice called her name from across the room, another woman waving her arms frantically, gesturing to join her at an overcrowded table.
“Um, I have to go. Nice to meet you, Verstappen Max.” she joked, a cheeky smile lighting up her face as took a step back, eyes holding onto his for just a second before she turned and glided over to her friend.
Max stood there for another minute, a statue in the midst of a bustling room before he finally broke out of his state of stupefaction and headed for the exit. Yeah, maybe locking himself inside and never speaking to another woman ever again was the right idea.
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first written fic on this acc hello!! fighting the anxiety so hard rn and i am winning. max meets sweet girl for the first time and is a bumbling idiot, fork found in the kitchen. the response on the first smau was crazy i appreciate all the support so much, i actually dont have writers block for the first time in like 2 years so thank u very much internet strangers🤍
likes and reblogs are very much appreciated !!
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catscidr · 7 months ago
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// dottore nsfw alphabet ft. the segments! //
i. note — (੭ ᐛ ) hehe.....so...... i have the worst writer’s block rn (its probably burnout because i straight up can't bring myself to do anything but o well) nd i thought filling this out would help. spoiler alert it did a little because i actually finished it.... i have like two Almost Finished wips collecting dust in my docs but i just cant get them done ueue. i write for thirty minutes n then close my laptop. i have a problem but WHATEVER!! THROWS DOTTORE NSFW ALPHABET LIKE A GRENADE AND RUNS!!!
ii. includes — dottore, the clones, gn!reader
iii. cw — nsfw under the cut! mentions of overstimulation, bondage, orgasm control, power imbalance, smidge of dubcon, exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, one mention of syringes n needles, implied established relationship
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A -> Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) 
— He’s not one to outright pamper you, but he does clean you up and makes sure that the bruises he left won’t be too sore in the morning; but if you beg hard enough, he’ll begrudgingly kiss them better. Just use his words against him and tease him a little n he’ll reward you with some smooches! ez
B -> Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s) 
— He’s indifferent to his body. On you, though, he goes crazy for your neck. Archons, the things he can do to it are endless. He loves covering it in bitemarks, wrapping his hands around it to feel your rapid pulse, sucking hickeys into the sensitive skin... and we can’t forget how much he loves watching you tilt your head to the side so he can inject whatever liquid is inside his syringe. Call it a mix of sensual and morbid fascination the way he’s obsessed with your neck 
C -> Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
— Dottore’s cum is opaque and on the thicker side, but its bitter and not particularly pleasant to swallow. You can’t really blame him; he’s a busy man and he neglects his health regularly. If you ask him nicely, he’ll try to, at least, sip on some pineapple or orange juice during the day so you don’t rush to spit out the cum that lands in your mouth. He also cums a lot, thanks to his involuntary abstinence in his younger years.........
D -> Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
— Has thought about fucking you in front of his segments multiple times (not fucking you with them, just having them watch you two go at it. big difference here). It’s usually fueled by irritation or jealousy from seeing you spend time with them, but sometimes he’ll get this random urge to just completely and utterly claim you in front of them to get under their skin. Also to overwhelm you. yk. just a bit ˙ᵕ˙
E -> Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
— Wasn’t very experienced before he met you. Had one or two awkward hookups during his Akademiya days, but he really had more knowledge about sex than actual experience (getting a bad blowjob doesn’t really count for experience) 
F -> Favorite position
— You somehow always end up in the prone bone position if you’re on a flat surface. He loves restraining you, but doing so with his whole body takes the cake. He’ll have one hand wrapped around your throat with his elbow on the bed to hold him up (so he doesn’t completely crush you), and the other hand will be holding your hip with a bruising grip to angle your pelvis so he can thrust into you over n over again without mercy
— .....but having you ride him when he’s tired is worthy of being an honorable mention. Don’t think you’re in control though, because as soon as you start to get too cocky he’ll grab your waist n thrust up sharply to knock that smile off your face (affectionately) 
G -> Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) 
— Very serious, he’ll go as far as to punish you for even trying to crack a joke or giggle at something he said or did (but it’s a dub whenever you’re in a bratty mood so it’s fiiiine). Same goes for his older segments. His younger clones are less uptight about it though, and sometimes they’ll let out a laugh when a funny noise happens, but they won’t necessarily make jokes during it 
H -> Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) 
— Trims it when he remembers to, when it gets annoying, or when you point it out. He’s not a fan of being clean-shaven, but if you really want him to be he’ll do it. His pubic hair is a darker shade than his hair, and the first time you saw it you promptly said “so you don’t dye your hair!” (he immediately flicked your forehead) 
I -> Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) 
— Dottore isn’t romantic, full stop. But on a scale of 1 through 10 he would be around a 6; could charm you and sweep you off your feet if he wanted to, but he finds more enjoyment in teasing you than being a gentleman. 
J -> Jack off (masturbation hc) 
— He forgets that’s even an option when he’s in Snezhnaya. Whenever he gets hard he’ll have you take care of it, whether it’s in the form of a quickie or completely ditching his work to fuck you. So he only really masturbates like... once a week, twice at most if you’re not in the mood to help him with his hard on. 
— But when he has to go out to other regions for work and won't be with you for long periods of time? He gets off more often than he’d like to admit. 
K -> Kink(s)  
— Big fan of dacryphilia, spit/messy sex, overstimulation, any kind of restraints, edging, breathplay, power imbalance, biting, dirty talk, brat taming, double penetration and anything that tests your limits. 
— Medium fan of sex under the influence of either alcohol or aphrodisiacs, somnophilia, exhibitionism, temperature play, slightly dangerous things like knife and gun play, and group sex (with his segments specifically, no one else. he’s possessive of you) 
— Honorable mention: roleplay, to some extent. Mans loves to do a “medical checkup” on you every once in a while. And he’s more of a dom than a sub, too. His older segments have pretty much the same kinks as he does (ofc), but the younger ones tend to lean more towards being switchy than just. dom 
L -> Location (favorite place to do the do) 
— Has a bias for taking you in his office. Loves the idea that any of his segments could overhear the both of you going at it and all they can do is rub one out somewhere quiet. He’s so mean to them, using you like that......... 
M -> Motivation (what turns them on)
— When you act like a brat, purposely teasing him n pushing his buttons..... makes his blood rush down to his cock. Can’t help thinking of the many ways he’ll put you in your place later 
N -> No (immediate turn offs)
— Anything that has to do with his kid/youngest segments and his coworkers, the other Harbingers.
O -> Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) 
— Would rather receive than give, but won’t shy away from the opportunity to overstimulate you with his fingers/hands and tongue. Isn’t the best at giving head but will gladly take the time to learn what makes you cum the fastest if you want him to 
P -> Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) 
— Dottore’s usually fast n rough, but he’ll have his moments where he wants to dote on you hard. His lack of affection catches up to him n he just wants to trace every curve of your body while languidly driving his cock inside of you sometimes, what can ya do 
Q -> Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) 
— Prefers taking his time to tease you by a mile, but he loves quickies too (since he can very well tease you by having a quickie) 
R -> Risk (are they game to experiment?) the irony of this wording isn’t lost on me 
— He's game to experiment. If you’re on board, he’s always willing to try something at least once 
S -> Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
— His younger segments tire out easily (virgins....... /affectionate) but his older ones, himself included, can go on and on and on. Him being a hermit n staying in his lab for multiple days at a time is extremely misleading, don’t be fooled!! He’ll overstimulate you to prove a point if you try to even poke fun at him n imply that he’ll get tired because he doesn’t “exercise” much (you’re his exercise, anyways) 
T -> Toys (do they have any?)
— Dottore does have some (and has dabbled in making some, too), namely (big and small) vibrators, dildos, and restraints but most of the time he prefers doing without them than with. Usually. When he does use them, he’ll make the whole “session” about them. 
— Controlling the rate in which a machine fucks you while he lazily jerks off in front of you, just out of your reach so you can’t touch him.... slowing down the silicone dildo’s pace when you start to get frustrated, making you even more frustrated..... yeah 
U -> Unfair (how much they like to tease) 
— He’s the WORST. The worst!!! You never know if he’ll overstimulate you, edge you, ruin your orgasm or just rile you up just to not do anything about it. Loves teasing you just as much as he loves to bury himself in his research (which is, obviously, a lot. good luck soldier) 
V -> Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) 
— Definitely on the quieter side (and it’s totally not so he can hear you more clearly, nuh uh). Lets out grunts/growls and heavy puffs of air more than actual moans, but it just makes the times whenever you do manage to draw out a pretty boy moan even sweeter <3 
W -> Wild card (a random hc) 
— Il Dottore, the Second Harbinger, outcast of the Akademiya, is incredibly touchy. He’ll place his hand on your waist when he walks past you, he’ll keep a hand on your thigh when you’re accompanying him during a meeting. He needs to have a hand on you at all times /whenever it’s possible/, including when you’re having sex. Can’t go a single second without touching you, he would probably actually bite you without any remorse if you tried to tie his hands so he can’t touch you 
X -> X-ray (what’s going on under those clothes ₍ᐢ.  ̫.ᐢ₎ ) 
— Bigger than most, but more of a grower than a shower. 3.8 inches soft and stands at a proud 7.4 inches when hard, with a 4.7 girth . Circumcised (don’t ask how), his skin is light (#FFEBCF) but his cock fades into a slightly darker color (#F7D4BC) while the head is more of a pretty n peachy tone (#F1A491). Has some light scarring in his pelvis area and a defined vein from the bottom of his shaft that stops shy of his glans. Also curves to the right just a bit.......
— His pubes r a dull-ish blue (#88B5D3)— while the hair on his head is a lighter, more teal blue for reference (#B6E0E0). Has a slight happy trail, too
Y -> Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) 
— He used to have a very low sex drive. In the beginning of your relationship, it wouldn't be uncommon for you two to go weeks without any action. As time went on though, he’s come to develop a higher sex drive and now has a mid to high libido. It’s your fault for being so tempting, really 
Z -> Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 
— Has the freakish ability to go right back to work as if nothing ever happened when you’re both finished, no matter how much you both cum...... makes him the perfect man to provide aftercare though. He’ll stay by your side while you drift off and then he’ll go back and do whatever he has to do— unless you cling onto him n pull him back to stay in bed. If that does happen, he’ll just sit in bed and read a book while you snooze away. 
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mickyschumacher · 1 year ago
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hi! I love the way you write and I’d love to see some Daniel Ricciardo or Oscar Piastri content!! Older brother’s best friend and something including model!reader or figureskater!reader. I also cannot begin to describe how much I love your Taylor song based fics. I was hooked on Style and Dress, thank you, have a wonderful day :)
𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you don't have much in common with oscar piastri other than three things: you're both rare talents, you know each other through your older brother, and that, unknowingly, you both really like each other.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: older brother's best friend trope! (although not heavily enforced), suggestive but nothing crude, poor ice skating knowledge, mentions of the spa track, crashing and DNFing, reader likes to blame things on alcohol, lily (oscar's current gf) is his ex (oops), slight diss of tsitp, jealousy!!!, scene of harassment and a creepy man, a physical altercation in which oscar gets physically hurt, attending the wounded scene! (sobbing rn), a cute and horribly cheesy, fluffy ending!
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: oscar piastri x figureskater!fem!reader, arthur leclerc x reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 5k+ (um srry hehe)
𝐀/𝐍: i wanted to this was oscar but since he's kinda young, i did a one year age gap bc the territory of 'the older brother's best friend' for piastri is alarming to say the least. i also assumed it was a female reader due to my other works, hope that and this whole piece is okay!!
𝐏.𝐒: if you couldn't tell, it's loosely based off of taylor swift's 'i can see you' bc i ended up losing track lmao. sorry for taking FOREVER but coming back from holiday, going straight back into uni, and having writer's block is the worst combo 🤧 as usual, poorly proof read!
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
In a world of billions, quite strangely yet only logically, there were many talented people across the globe. But very few were be a World Champion let alone the opportunity. You were part of this few. The Youngest World Champion in figure skating in history, a two-time World Champion and the 2022 Olympic winner.
You were a living legacy in your town.
Of course, you couldn't do it without the support of the people you loved. Your parents attended all your competitions. In fact, your father was the one who had brought you to the ice when you were three. And your brother, no matter how much of a menace he was, he was your number one fan. Despite all the things he had to do, he was always there for you.
Your brother was one of those Australian boys who had turned their passion for dirt biking into a career for motorcross racing.
Naturally, he had found a friend who was also very interested in racing. However, instead he loved driving a open wheel single-seater formula racing car at crazy speeds. That friend was Oscar Piastri. A childhood best friend of your brother's and a sort of acquaintance slash family friend of yours.
It worried you two see some of the most important people in your lives risk death almost every day but you enjoyed watching them do something they loved.
You could see it in their eyes when they raced. It was the same passion you had for the ice. The slivers of ice that occasionally touched your skin thrilled you was the same excitement that coursed through the two Aussies when they felt their engines rev.
It was odd. You could've sworn a few days ago, you were all kids playing in the backyard of your house; your brother riding his toy bike while Oscar raced him on foot and you commentated in Oscar's favour to piss your brother off. And now all three of you were leading your careers: you were a competitive figure skater, your brother was slamming the MXGP and Oscar was one of the best rookies introduced to F1 in a while.
Where time had gone... you could not even begin to wonder. Heck, once upon a time you were staring down Oscar in the school hallways because for some reason you could only talk to him outside of school. And now... well, it was complicated to say the least.
You had always liked Oscar. It was difficult not to. He was always around you. The boyish charm, the small smiles, the puppy brown eyes, his offers to help you with your homework, you visiting him when he raced... everything had built up inside you. It was festering.
But that's how you liked it. You didn't want to cross any lines. As heart-racing and flustering as your crush on him was, you could not bear the idea of telling someone who was brotherly to you that you liked him.
It was repulsing.
And as far as his dating history could went, Oscar didn't like you. Oscar wasn't a player but he definitely didn't like being single from what you could tell.
To be honest, considering you didn't see him that much due both of your schedules, nothing between the both of you would've ever happened if you're annual family holiday hadn't happened.
Your family and the Piastri's took time out at least once a year to relax together. And this year, your brother and Oscar's breaks overlapped, and you had persuaded your coach for two weeks off. That was all the both of your parents needed before booking a trip to Greece. Everyone wanted to go when they were younger and now they could finally go.
Two weeks... not much could happen. At least so you thought.
The moment you saw Oscar in Greece, your heart thumped against your chest like it had never before and you knew you were screwed. It was ridiculous. How after all the time did you still like this stupid driver? He was the root cause of your lonely love life. Which for most figure skaters was not a big deal... you had prospect lovers falling left and right. Especially the guys in pair skating. But no... you were head over heels for Oscar out of all people.
With the firm boundaries you had made, you ventured to not make a big deal about what you were feeling and pushed it to the side. But the thing about pushing things away, they have a funny way of coming back up.
━━━━━━━━━━━
On the first night of your much needed vacation, you had found one of the most popular restaurants in Santorini while endlessly browsing through social media and decided to get everyone out of the lovely AirBnB you had rented. Upon arriving, your parents and Oscar's were cooped up on one side of the dining table, leaving the 'kids', as your mother calls you three, on the other.
You released a sigh of content, feeling the crisp breeze dance past your skin in the warm summer evening air while your sip of assyrtiko (Greek white wine) slipped past your throat far too easily. Thank God you had chosen an outdoor restaurant tonight. Every time you were on holiday, you couldn't be more grateful to get away from all the stress. If you could live like this every day, with the warm breezy evenings and the amazing architecture, you would.
"So," your mother started, her voice hitting your direction. You flickered your gaze over to her, raising a brow. "How are my kids' love lives? Are you getting down?" She waggled her eyebrows behind her glasses.
A wave of heat pricked your skin at your mother's words. "Mom!" You hissed out in disbelief while your father and Oscar's parents chuckled.
"What? You guys never tell me anything anymore! I used to be the holder of all your secrets and now... now I am an old woman!" Your mother cried, wiping an invisible tear off of her cheek.
You and your brother blankly looked at her and then towards each other. To say your mother was a character was an understatement. She enjoyed her theatrics far too much for anyone's liking, more specifically you're liking.
Oscar grinned, reaching out his hand to hover over hers. "You could never be an old woman. Always young in my heart."
Your brother snorted at Oscar's cheesiness. After you and your brother, Oscar was your mother's son and Oscar was a suck-up. He liked being in the good books, especially that of your mother's.
"Of course," Your mother chuckled softly, patting Oscar's hand gently. She sucked in a sharp breath. "What happen to you and Lily? I heard you two broke up? I thought you liked her a lot?"
You could see Oscar tense at the mention of his ex, your own body rigid. It wasn't a surprise to you but you actually hated hearing about Oscar's love life. Unrequited feelings were already a bitch and you didn't need to make it any worse.
Oscar cleared his throat, a small smiling tugging at his lips. "I thought I did too..." He trailed off, falling into his own trance momentarily. Suddenly his eyes flickered around his surroundings before they landed on you. "I guess I just saw something I else I liked a lot more."
A slight shiver crept down your spine and your heart travelled towards your ears. You pressed your lips tightly together, furrowing your brows.
What the fuck?
You snapped your eyes away, firmly placing them on your empty plate that suddenly held your entire world. Oscar had never ever looked at you like that. Any time you looked into those puppy browns, they were usually some mix between happy, anger, annoyance, sadness, humour, and the God forbidden 'I-see-you-as-my-sister' type love.
But this... this was something else entirely. The softness of his gaze, his words, the timing of it all; a perfect execution of sorts... it was a first.
Maybe you had taken one too many sips of the wine. It was the only reasonable explanation behind your obvious hallucination.
Sooner or later, the sun would set, a main reason behind your picking of the restaurant. The parents and your brother were at the front of the house, arguing about who paid for tonight's dinner. You were more than happy to wait it out on the balcony and revel in the last few rays of light, eyes closed and the breeze dancing across your skin.
"Well don't you look happy," Oscar voice stated, nearing you.
You opened your eyes, slightly turning your head to the side only to look back a few second later. Oscar and sunsets... you enjoyed that combo far too much for your liking.
"That's because I am. Sometimes being off the ice is refreshing," You told him, taking in a breath of the fresh evening air.
Out of your peripheral vision you could see Oscar tilt his head, eyes raking over you with a small grin tugging at his lips. You ignored the pace of your heart as he nodded at your remark, settling in next you with his hands on the balcony bar, a mere inch away from your own.
"I hear that," Oscar sighed, looking out at the horizon.
You forced yourself to look over at him, trying to read his mind after hearing the burdened sigh he released. "Oscar... I hope you know you're doing well in F1 right now. You're doing pretty good compared to Lando's rookie year."
Oscar smiled gently. You knew him far too well. "I know. I just... I feel like everyone's expecting so much more of me. Podiums... race wins... like everything else I've done. And then Spa came along."
You winced at the mention of the track. Oscar had collided with Carlos on the very first lap. Carlos said Oscar was too optimistic about making that turn and Oscar said that he didn't even know what Carlos doing; that the Spaniard turned as if he wasn't even on the track. Nevertheless, the collision resulted in both of them DNFing.
You snorted. "Spa is a shit track," You dismissed Oscar's current pessimism with a wave of your hand.
Oscar chuckled at your crudeness. He couldn't disagree with you. Spa was one of those tracks which felt auspicious to any driver. The one where you hoped you at least passed the finishing line. It didn't matter what your position was... as long as you passed it, you were okay.
"Guys come on! We've finished paying," Your brother called out.
The both of you turned around. Oscar pushed himself off of the bar, heading towards your brother. "Who won this one?" He asked in amusement, hands gliding past his waist. Ever so gently, in his walk, he teetered towards you, letting his hand brush past your own, sending a tingle down both of you.
You gulped at the racing feeling, immediately pulling your hand closer to yourself. This hairs of your body stood straight and your fingers felt numb. Heck, you felt numb.
Damn, you thought, this is some crazy good wine.
━━━━━━━━━━━
The thing about your inclination to blame everything on the alcohol you consumed was that it only actually worked if you consumed alcohol. You were lucky if you could extend to the remaining bits by a day with the claims of a hangover.
But right now, you were sober as hell.
An unfortunate event, to say the least.
"Y/N, wake up," Oscar's voice pounded against your blanketed, muffled ears.
"Ugh, no" You groaned, cocooning yourself into your blanket and pressing your head further into your pillow, savouring the warmth.
You always had such early mornings when you trained, waking up at ungodly hours only to workout before heading to the rink. Being on the ice was the only thing you loved. Your fans were sweet but everything else after that, the press, the workouts, the food, sucked. So you cherished the late summer morning in Santorini. And no person, let alone a boy who announced his F1 team to you by saying "I'm driving for a papaya", was going to ruin this for you.
Oscar put his hands on his hips, eyeing you with a twitch in his eye. "But breakfast is ready. I cooked!"
You laughed into your sheets lightly. "Oh boy, that's even worse!"
Oscar looked at your peeking head and humoured eyes blankly. "That," he started to say as he began to literally pull you out of your bed by your arms, "is very very rude thing to say to the chef."
"Oscar, no! Let go!" You begged, hands flailing to attach themselves to anything. Falling on the hard cold floor was not the ideal morning for you.
At least not alone.
You jutted out your leg, nudging Oscar's to the side, making him stumble over his steps. As he quickly realised he was losing balance, he threw his body under yours, creating a soft landing for you as you both fell to the floor.
You were laughing too hard to realise Oscar's one hand had even moved to your waist and the other to your head, as if it was to protect you from getting hurt.
"Oh my God! You should've seen your face! It was like–" You turned to mimic his expression but you couldn't find the words. All the air around you had been seized, your throat was dry and you were breathless.
When had Oscar's face become so close to yours?
You couldn't remember the last time you were this close to him. Probably as a child. He was cute back then as well. But growing up changed the both of you. The most apparent reminder of how old you were was the tiny short hairs from his chin that he always tried to shave off. His eyes were still as brown as ever, less big because he grew into his face. And his lips... they were kissable.
His face was also littered with freckles here and there. You didn't even realise your finger had shot out to play connect the dots with them until you could feel his faint warm breath from how close you were.
Your eyes trailed up his face to find his gaze firmly planted on yours. Suddenly you could feel where his hands were and your skin burned at his touch. The current heatwave in Europe had left you in some thin pyjamas. You didn't regret it last night but you definitely regretted wearing them right now.
Hypnotised, you found yourself leaning in naturally. Oscar's head also nudged forward. Your lips were barely a centimetre away from each other. You could hear your name slip out of Oscar's lips as the faintest whisper. Like it was a struggle to say your name because he couldn't think.
His woody and amber scent engulfed you and for a second, you couldn't think.
Not until you could hear your brother scream both of your names from the kitchen, demanding you to come to breakfast.
You blinked, falling out of your trance as quickly as you fell in.
Oscar felt you jerk in his arms suddenly, pushing yourself out of his hold and attempting to stand up. "Y/N, I–"
No. God, no.
You weren't ruining a friendship over this.
You could pretend. Yes. Pretend. You can't see him.
"We're coming!" You yelled back, feeling your cheeks redden with embarrassment and annoyance; both vexing feeling for yourself.
God, what a day to be sober.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Honestly how this holiday had gone from zero to a hundred was beyond you.
Pretending like nothing had happened in your room was harder than you thought. Not when Oscar looked at you with these burdened eyes and like he had something to say to you, right on the tip of his tongue.
You considered avoiding him. But doing so on a family trip was easier said than done. Besides, it would've been pretty obvious to everyone else and knowing your family, they would've made a big deal out of nothing. Because that's what it was: nothing.
But alas, you have a brother. And normally, he's stupid and self-obsessed to the point it bordered on unhealthy. But as your brother, it seemed he had some sort of sixth sense for these sorts of things. Something about the older sibling being superior or whatever lies he convinced himself with.
"Why are you being weird with Oscar? Your brother asked you while you ate some ice cream and caught up with the new season of 'The Summer I Turned Pretty'. At first, you couldn't fathom watching a character called 'Belly' out of all things but somehow you got hooked.
You paused the scoop of ice cream you put in your mouth, letting it slowly melt away as you stared hard at your nuisance of a brother. "I have literally no idea what you're talking about."
"Ha, nice try. You're supposed to use 'literally' when you deny it the second time," Your brother smiled at you smugly.
You pressed your lips together, feeling your teeth slightly grind against your spoon. You couldn't decide whether you wanted to smack the shit of your brother with a spoon or bury him in a six-foot deep hole.
"Come on, lil sis, you can talk to me. Everyone's out of the house right now," He partially jested while being entirely serious.
Burying him in a hole it was.
"I have nothing to say to you," You stated, eyes reverting back to your show.
Your brother narrowed his eyes, grabbing the remote to pause the episode. Ignoring your exclaim of annoyance, he sat down next to you and took your ice cream and spoon away from you to dig into the pint for himself.
You shuddered in disgust. You were not having that flavour for a while.
He pointed your spoon at you. "I know you think I'm stupid, which I may be, but I'm not entirely an idiot. What happened with you and Oscar? You were all happy buddies a few days ago. Now he looks like a lost puppy and you look like you saw Pennywise in the hallway."
You bit down on your lip to prevent yourself from laughing. You couldn't actually let him know he was funny.
"Did he do something to you? Y/N, if he did something wrong to you I swear to God... just tell me and I will end him."
Your eyes widened at the sudden change of the conversation. Sitting up, you waved your hands in urgent dismissal. "No! Oh my God, nothing like that! Holy shit."
Your brother let a relieved exhale fall from his mouth before furrowing his brows. "Then what happened? Is it your stupid crush on him?"
"I–what?" You asked dumbfounded, looking at your brother incredulously.
"Your crush? Like the one you've had since you first laid eyes on him. You know everyone knows right? It's kinda obvious. Well, everyone but Oscar," your brother said nonchalantly.
You blinked blankly at him. "Before I throw myself off of a cliff, I can give you the generous choice of how you die? Personally I'm thinking asphyxiation, arson, or murder."
Your brother gulped, slowly putting away the ice cream. "Okay, first off stop watching Criminal Minds so much. Second of all, you don't need to feel embarrassed. All of us have been secretly rooting for you. Especially mom and Oscar's mom. You should've seen how happy they got when I told them Oscar and Lily broke up. It was seriously creepy."
You sighed, falling onto the couch. "It doesn't matter how creepy it was. We almost kissed! And then you called for us. Any later, I would've ruined our friendship. What's the point anyways? He doesn't like me. I'm gonna die in the friendzone," You dramatically sobbed out.
"Well you can start by not turning the other direction when you see him. Poor guy looks like you killed his dog. Do you think a guy who's dog was killed has any guts to speak to their murderer? And that's beside the fact that he may like his murderer."
Where was that shovel again?
"You know what you need to do? Do something that makes him talk to you. I got it! I could set you up with Arthur! He's in Santorini too! Oscar would hate it."
"Oh my God... do you want me to die?" You asked, slightly horrified at the look of pure joy on your brother's face .
Your brother grinned. "Of course, I do. Would I be your brother if I didn't?"
━━━━━━━━━━━
For as long as he could remember, Oscar was a peaceful guy. He didn't really get angry quickly. He was usually calm and usually could think before he acted.
But all those characteristics were thrown out the window, well into the air of the music festival everyone decided to attend, when he saw you walk into the event with Arthur Leclerc. His former teammate out of all people.
"Is that Arthur? Why is he here?" Oscar asked your brother.
"Hmm?" Your brother turned around, pretending to squint at the two of you briefly before catching your piercing gaze. "Oh yeah... that is him. He told me he was in Greece. Guess he found Y/N first. Makes sense I guess."
Oscar looked at your brother dubiously. "I... what does that even mean?"
"I don't know why but I always got the feeling he liked Y/N," your brother shrugged.
Oscar blinked. "You're taking the fucking piss..." He huffed in disbelief.
"What? Oh? Here they come."
Truth be told, Arthur was more than happy to oblige with your brother's game. He hadn't seen Oscar in a while because they were in different championships now. Getting the opportunity to play with him a bit was a hard offer to turn down.
"Ozzie!" Arthur cheered, bringing him into a hug.
Oscar raised a brow at you. That pet name originated from you when the three of you decided to become superheroes for a day and you decided to name eight-year-old Oscar, 'Ozzie the Mozzie' after he got bitten by one. No one else on Earth called him that but you.
"I was telling Arty here about that mozzie that bit you and he really liked Ozzie the Mozzie," You chuckled softly.
Arty...
God give him strength because Oscar wasn't sure how much longer he could bear this.
To be honest, you weren't much of a music festival type of person. It was always crowded, hot, and filled with some sort of drugs even if you couldn't see it.
But aside from that, you enjoyed the serenity it could bring; the indie music that was well on it's way to becoming pop; the calming breeze; the warming sun.
Well you would enjoy it more if a certain Aussie wasn't staring daggers to the side of your head–Arthur's head.
You felt a tap on your shoulder and you turned around to see a stranger. A somewhat attractively creepy stranger but a stranger nonetheless. You raised your brows and gave a small smile. "Yes?"
"I know you don't know me but I just saw you from over there and I wanted to say you're really pretty!"
You blinked, feeling the three boys around you stiffen at the compliment. You nodded slowly, putting on a grateful smile. "Oh, thank you so much," You responded, laughing awkwardly.
A moment of awkward silence settled in the air as the guy still remained in front of you.
"So... I was wondering if I get could get your number?" The guy asked with an odd glint in his eyes.
The alarms were ringing in your head and an uncomfortable shiver went down your spine. "Uh, I'm sorry. I... I don't really want to. But thanks for your offer," You politely declined.
"Oh come on. I called you pretty... that's gotta be worth your number. Come on."
Oh.
Honestly, you were speechless. Your number which for him was the leeway into your intimate life was worth a compliment.
"Yeah, I don't think so," You quipped sharply, gritting your teeth.
"Come on, baby girl. Let me show you a fun time." The guy stepped forward, his hand reaching towards your body.
You froze at his words. You wanted to move but you couldn't.
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Oscar, Arthur, and your brother step in front of you.
"Mate, fuck off. She doesn't want you," Oscar pushed the guy away from you.
Your brother snorted. "I don't think anyone wants him."
The guy sneered, making you wince. He raised his hands in a feigned defence, beginning to turn away from you. Thank God. "Fine. I didn't want a girl like you anyways. All these guys around you... a whore."
Arthur and you, as the pacifists you were, watched in silent horror as your brother poked his tongue in his cheek and Oscar's head quickly whipped towards the guy.
"Oscar..." You warned meekly as Arthur tried to get your brother's attention.
The last thing any of you needed was famed athletes on the front page of ESPN, cited as the cause of a brawl.
"What did you say?" Oscar raised a brow, ignoring your pleas and walking towards the guy. His tone was dark and the total opposite of what he normally sounded like. He was raged.
"The truth," The guy chuckled. "I said she's a whore. Why? What are you gonna do about it, little boy?"
Yeah see, the guy most definitely had a couple of inches on Oscar and you brother. You weren't really keen on seeing them get pummelled to the ground.
Oscar said nothing in response but raised his fist, slamming it into the side of the guy's jaw.
Oh for fuck's sake.
As if the guy had lightening reflexes, the guy quickly pulled his head back up and got a hold of Oscar, getting into a cycle of punches.
Your heart dropped at the sight. Your brother, thank God, and Arthur quickly realised that Oscar wasn't winning anything here, stepping in to push the two men apart. A small crowd began to gather, some thankfully aiding in trying to stop whatever was going on.
Arthur pulled Oscar away and towards you. You held Oscar against you, clutching him tightly as your heart raced in your ears. Somewhere in the muffled sounds you could hear your brother.
"We're going home. Now."
━━━━━━━━━━━
Your brother and Arthur had decided to go explain the situation the both of your parents who were out having lunch because you couldn't blame all those bruises and dry blood on Oscar's face by saying he fell. This left you to clean up Oscar to reduce the risk of your parents having a heart attack.
You clenched your jaw, holding the first aid kid and a wet cloth to your side as you walked towards the seated racing driver who had found a lot of interest in the floor all of a sudden while icing his face.
"I can't believe you," You mumbled in annoyance, taking a seat next to him. You gently grabbed his chin, putting side the ice bag, trying to decide on where to start cleaning but you could only wince at his face. His bottom lip and his brow was slightly torn, the side of his jaw and the top of his cheek had started to bruise, and his nose was a blood fest.
All the pain Oscar felt began to disappear as he felt your hands gently graze past his skin, scouting all the damage that had occurred. He looked at your pained eyes and internally sighed. He hated seeing you in pain. "He was disrespecting you. I wasn't going to just let it go."
You rolled your eyes, slowly wiping away the dry blood. "He was like six foot two, Oscar. You're like five foot. He could've ki... he could've really hurt you," You jested before your voice fell into a bare whisper.
Oscar's heart clenched as you went back on your words, watching you grab some antiseptic with shaky hands. He grabbed your hands, holding them with his own and softly looked into your eyes. "But he didn't. I'm fine. See?" He smiled widely before wincing at the pain shooting through his face.
You snorted. "As if."
"Hey, you're talking to a guy who crashes at most craziest speeds. Bet that guy can't do that," Oscar shrugged nonchalantly.
You narrowed your eyes. "If you weren't already hurt, I would've smacked the shit out of you right now. Just so you know."
Oscar grinned at you. "Ah, there's the ever kind Y/N I love."
You rolled your eyes before processing what he had just said. As friends. Friendly love. Right. You shook your head out of your trance, removing your hands from his and returning back to the stupid first aid kit next to you.
Oscar mended his brows together. "Hey," he tapped your thigh, "you heard what I said right?"
"Hmm? Oh, yeah," You said idly, opening the tube of antiseptic cream.
"What? I..." Oscar sighed, taking the cream out of your hands before pulling you closer to him. His hands held your face, looking you dead in the eye. "I said I love you, Y/N. You know... the type where you look at someone and all you know is that you can't breathe without them? The one in your books?"
Your mouth felt dry. You blinked blankly. Your hands felt clammy. You chuckled nervously. "Pfft, what? You don't love me. You mean as a friend, right? I think you need some medicine. Maybe there's some in this kit." Your eyes darted down, frantically looking around the box as your heart thudded against your chest.
"Hey, hey," Oscar called, using his hand to turn your chin towards him. "I don't. I mean, I do love you as a friend, but no. I love love you."
"Well... what about about Lily?"
"As I said... I realised I loved someone else more," Oscar told you, letting his confession sink into your mind. "You know... if your idiot brother didn't call us that day, I definitely would've kissed you."
Oh.
Well.
That was something.
This was real. You weren't dreaming. You hadn't died. Oscar, your childhood best friend and your brother's best friend, was confessing to you.
"Huh... well, if it's any consolation, I probably would've kissed you too," You retorted, trying to keep your quirking lips at bay before you began smiling for too much for anyone's liking.
"Probably? That kinda sucks. Are you sure you wouldn't have definitely kissed me?" Oscar grinned, grabbing your waist and seating you down on his lap.
"Hmm... I mean maybe. This current environment is nowhere near as enticing as my bedroom. I mean what is sexier than me waking up, am I right?" You joked, trying to cover up the fact that you were dying at the proximity between you two.
Oscar pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek, holding your jaw while his thumb grazed your lips. "Well, I can think of a few other things."
You silently watched as Oscar leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. His lips were softer than you could ever imagine.
You blinked, taking a mere second to register what was going on. Oscar Piastri was kissing you. Holy shit, Oscar Piastri was kissing you!
You kissed him back, feeling his hand wrap around the back of your neck and the other holding you steady against him. Your skin burned at his touch, feeling his fingers snake past the hem of your shirt and rest on your hot skin.
Oddly enough, despite your heat, goosebumps sprawled across every inch of your skin as his tongue darted out, exploring your own, giving you access to his mouth.
You could've sworn you were walking on fire. One more step and you could've combusted. Your thighs clenched at the moan that slipped from Oscar's mouth as your teeth tugged on his bottom lip, your hands roaming around his chest and his arms.
Oscar's hand wrapped around your hair, enjoying the softness he had wanted touch ever since he realised he had feelings for you. His pants felt tight as he felt your hand brush against his bare torso. Fuck. You were going to do him in. He fell back further into the couch, holding you tighter against him.
The desire you had was blinding you. Your other hand fell to his cheek, forgetting about his injuries till Oscar murmured an "ouch".
You retracted your hands, pulling back from his lips, a move Oscar clearly didn't enjoy as his eyes followed your lips. "Shit!" You exclaimed, "the antiseptic! Sorry!"
Oscar paused in his trance, realising what you were talking about. He smiled softly, lips widening even further when he saw your swollen lips and flushed cheeks.
You carefully applied the cream to his brow before moving to his lips. "The diagnosis for you Mr Piastri is no more kissing for you," You grinned.
Oscar looked at you dumbfounded. "I–what? For how long?"
"Mmm... a week?"
"A week?" Oscar repeated in exasperation. "There is no way I can last that long. Not after this. Besides I'm pretty sure kissing actually helps you heal faster."
Your skin warmed further at his confession. You cleared your throat and held his hands. "I am confident that is not scientifically true."
Oscar narrowed his eyes, lips quirking in amusement. "You need to read better medical journals, doc."
You tilted your head to the side, leaning in further. "I think I have an alternative."
"Yeah?" Oscar's eyes danced across your face, smiling softly. "What is it?"
"It's less practical, more theoretical. Confessional, if you will," You shrugged, letting your forehead rest against his.
Oscar shut his eyes, enjoying the warmth of you. "Oh really? Don't let me stop you."
"I love you, Oscar. I've loved you since we were little heroes running around in the backyard."
Oscar opened his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist. He smiled widely at you. "Are you sure you said a week?"
You rolled your eyes, hitting his chest playfully. "I'm sure."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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take-it-on-the-run · 2 months ago
Text
The End
Wally Clark x Reader
Two people died on September 23rd, 1983. One laid out on a football field before hundreds of people, and the other left behind on the cold floor of the boy's locker room.
Word Count: 1.7k
Tags: Sexual assault, semi-graphic depictions of SA, including: almost direct aftermath, reader is naked in the beginning, mentions of blood, and implied loss of virginity via SA, flashback to SA; death, reader's death is overlooked, ANGST
Characters: Wally Clark, Reader, Dalton (OC)
Read it on AO3!
A/N: The Doors title. Hey ya'll. I cannot believe the love I've been getting on this page, and it's driving me past my writer's block more than anything. With school starting, I can feel the academic anxiety kicking in, but I use my writing as a coping method when I can. This story has very intense topics (as stated in the tags) and is not meant to idealize any topics in any way. This was inspired by @general-fanfiction's Hopes and Fears series (GO READ IT RN), and @whoopsyeahokay's October Sun series (ALSO GO READ IT RN). If this story is well received, or I just feel the urge to, I'll probably turn it into a series (bc this sucks as a one-shot). As always, please heed the warnings, and read only if you're comfortable.
Wally Clark Masterlist | School Spirits Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist
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Blood was everywhere.
It slid down your legs and dribbled onto the cold floor of the locker room. Every inch of your skin felt like it was too tight for your bones, and all you wanted to do was reach down your throat and rip out your heart.
Copper flooded your mouth. The tang brushed against the back of your chattering teeth, and all you could think about was how you wanted to crawl to the nearby shower and let it run until one of the coaches found you and dragged you out.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Move. You told yourself. All of your limbs ached. Nothing felt real.
You didn’t want this to be real.
It was supposed to be kind. Gentle. An act out of pure love.
Standing up proved to be hard, and it was like no one was able to hear you screaming out for help. Filtered out by the people flooding the halls, hustling to the big homecoming game going on that night.
The tiled walls provided little help as you brought yourself to a standing position, walking slowly as you felt your feet brush against the pile of your shoes, pants, and underwear on the floor. The touch stopped your heart, breaking a new tier of hate and regret across your body.
He said he loved me.
You turned on the shower, cranking the knob to the hottest setting, knowing that the water wouldn’t get anywhere near warm. Water slid harshly over your body, and you felt it pelt against spots of dried blood on your thighs.
You wished you never come to this stupid football game.
You wished you weren’t as ignorant, or as gullible, or as love-blind as you had been in the past three months.
You wished you never met him.
His face felt bitter and sharp in your head, poking and prodding, as if trying to stick the memory of his hands on you for eternity.
Time passed irregularly, no one came in or out of the locker room, and you were sure that the football game had to have reached its end by all of the cheering and yelling you heard outside.
After using all of the hot water in the gym wing, you slowly walked to the lines of lockers, trying even glimpsing in the direction of your clothes. tried to open every locker until one popped open, revealing a pair of grey sweatpants, a sweatshirt, a muscle tank, blue gym shorts, and a matching varsity jacket with #57 stitched on the arm.
You grabbed the matching sweatsuit, balling it in your arms and silently apologizing to the boy you’d never return the clothing to.
He probably won’t even notice, you told yourself.
You turned the corner around a line of lockers and you could swear you were going crazy. A bare foot poked out from behind the last line of lockers, limply tilted against your pile of clothes, painted a chipped wine red.
You blinked hard, looking down at your own chipped wine-red toes, and you clutched the clothing you stole to your naked body. The cotton was soft compared to the cold tile bracing against your feet, and you brought your eyes to look back to the pile of clothing on the floor.
Bile pooled at the back of your mouth as you hesitantly stepped closer to the foot that hadn’t disappeared. You’re going crazy, you told yourself, but the more and more you stared at the limp, pale body - your limp, pale body - whose features were more of a brutal mass than a face, the less it was going away.
You barely made it past the urinals and into an open stall before you dry-heaved into a toilet.
You were dead.
You couldn’t be.
As you zipped up the stolen hoodie and sweatpants, you tried to remember it all. Kissing under the bleachers before the game, him asking you to come with him while he grabbed something from his gym locker.
Every agonizing second you asked him to stop, to stop pressing you into the lockers because one of the locks was digging into your back; his decrepit hands sliding at your waistline, pushing and prodding past the fabric of your clothes.
Nothing would come up from your stomach.
Could ghosts vomit? You asked yourself, slowly standing to your feet and walking back over to your dead body.
Conversations started to flood the hallway, every muscle in your body coming briefly to attention before you flew out the door and screamed into the rushing crowd of students.
“Hello?” You called out, reaching your arm into the crowd, only to watch it get run through like something out of Star Wars.
Your body became hot, and even though you knew deep down that no one could see you, you pushed your tears back down your choking throat and felt your cheeks heat up with shame.
You walked into the crowd, who was thinning out the further you got from the hallway. Your body tensed for a moment, seeing the lights of police cars and ambulances pulling up to the school. Expecting to see the paramedics rushing toward your body, you waited for them to split the crowd, to start heading toward the school, but they were bolting the other way.
Straight toward the football field.
This school has to be fucking cursed.
One of the players was splayed out on the field, his head gently being lifted as paramedics were tugging his helmet off his head. The football team from whatever school yours was playing against was sitting on the bench, whispering and pointing to another one of their players who was talking to a police officer further down the field.
57.
The number sewn on the jacket hanging among the clothes you stole stood out against the dark blue of the player’s helmet. People gasped and a woman cried out as the paramedic set the helmet aside, revealing the face of the school’s resident golden boy; a dark bruise crawled up his neck, and his mouth guard slid between his lips as his limp head hung unnaturally over his shoulder.
You walked closer, straight through the forming line of police officers, and looked into the field. At the edge of the bleachers, waving his arms around and yelling into a silent group of people, stood Wally Clark.
Wally Clark is dead.
Just like I am.
You took off running, the activity coming easier to you when you were alive.
Alive.
“Wally!” You called out, and the football player snapped his body to your voice, his eyes wide and seeming relieved that someone was talking to him.
You stopped, resting your hands on your hips as he hopped down from the bleachers.
“What’s happening? Why- why is no one talking to me? What did I do?” He asked, skipping the formalities. He came to stand on the field before you, the football gear he was wearing sending a rush of debilitating shame through your body.
You faltered for a moment, his face flashing in your eyes before you rubbed your face back to reality.
“You didn’t do anything, Wally.” You managed to push out, pushing your eyes anywhere but on him.
“Then what is happening? I feel like I’m going crazy, one minute I’m running with the ball, and boom- I’m at the bleachers, trying to get my mother to talk to me and she won’t even look up at me. I know she’s pissed at me about going on the bench, but I mean I got back in the game, and now I’m guessing coach is pissed at me on insisting to get back in and-”
“You’re dead.” You cut off his rambling, forcing yourself to meet his face without looking away after a second, “I mean, I think we’re both dead.”
First, he smiled. Like what you said was some kind of joke. After you said nothing, he started toward the sidewalk, where his mother was now alongside a stretcher being lifted into an ambulance. You could see the tears on her face from where you were, each step you followed Wally, the easier it was to see her sorrow.
Then, as he was following his mother, he suddenly was gone, like he was plucked off the Earth by God himself.
That was until you turned to see him standing on the football field, right where his body was previously lying, tugging at the roots of his hair.
You hovered your foot, leveraging that if you stood on the sidewalk, you would be slingshotted back to the men’s locker room.
You decided to trust your gut and instead talked to Wally.
“I can’t be dead, I mean, that would mean you’re dead, and I literally saw you in the hallway this morning,” Wally said as he paced in a small area before you, “and I know for sure that I saw you because you were hanging around Dalton’s locker, which was weird because everyone on the team thought he had some college girl or something he was hanging out with-”
You didn’t register some of the words he was saying, instead you tried to control your thoughts from ripping you back to your last moments on earth at his name.
“-I mean, do you even know how crazy this sounds?”
You took in a shaky breath, wiping your hands over your face to poorly conceal any emotions that unwillingly spread onto your features, “Yeah, but that’s the thing, Wally. I am dead.”
Saying you were dead for the first time out loud was a lot heavier than you thought it would be.
You’re pretty sure that if the insanity of Wally being killed hadn’t overridden your brain, you would be somewhere huddled up and screaming for some greater power to give you eternal rest.
“What? That’s not possible, I mean, the people you were here with would’ve noticed you were gone. Dalton would’ve noticed you were gone.”
You didn’t want to give his name as much power as you did, but your body tightened up hearing it. You didn’t correct him, instead opting to stare at the dark woods on the far end of the field, your eyes burning once more.
“Y/N,” you were a little surprised that he knew your name, and even more when he stood in front of you with the most gentle expression you’d ever seen, “what happened after school? How did you die?”
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aciddrattboyy · 23 days ago
Text
somebody i used to know
you and kenma had an intense past that much was for sure. but after you disappeared two years ago he thought the past would stay in the past. but for better or for worse, he was wrong.
kenma x f!reader ☆ angst ☆ 1.3k cw: none a/n: this is another reupload, im going through crazy writers block rn so i've been lookin thru old stuff to see if it'll spark somethin
pt: 01 || ...
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“kenma,” 
“yea?” there he was, sitting with you in his bed. looking up at you from his homework, he saw you smiling at him. he quickly looked away, face heating up and heart beat running rampant. 
“let’s get married,” you took his hand in yours, squeezing it slightly as you patiently waited for him to look at you again.
“.... married?” he turned his face towards you slowly, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed in confusion. you enthusiastically nodded your head, your smile never wavering.
“yes! i love you, you love me- so let’s get married,” 
“y/n we’re still in highschool,” he muttered, covering his face with his free arm out of embarrassment. 
“after we graduate then,” you offered, still looking at him like he was the one who personally gave you oxygen to breathe. he lowered his arm slowly, a smile creeping on his face as he looked at you. his whole body began to feel warm as he nodded.
“deal, let’s get married.”
these memories flooded kenma’s head as he stood in the doorway of his new college class. he felt like he was just teleported back to two years ago. because there you were, smiling and laughing with your new college friends. 
another student bumping into him is what brought kenma back to the present. a mumbled apology leaving his lips as he damn near sprinted to the back corner of the class. his heart was racing as he glanced back to where you were standing. it was definitely you. kenma wouldn't be able to mistake that laugh and voice anywhere. you looked almost the exact same as two years ago and this made kenmas world spin. 
“alright everyone sit down please,” the voice of your new professor rang through the class and immediately everyone found their seats. 
kenma knew he should definitely pay attention to what his professor was saying. he knew that it was more than likely that very important information would be said during this period. but he could not stop thinking about you. 
kenma tried incredibly hard to not stare lasers into the back of your head, but there were just so many thoughts in his head now. what were the odds you two would be in the same college? did you know he would be there? no you couldn’t have, could you? did you see him walk in? what the fuck was going on? 
he caught a glimpse of your side profile as you laughed at whatever the person next to you said and kenma could’ve sworn he felt his heart stop just for a second. blinking rapidly, he tried to keep any and all tears at bay as memories from the past flooded his mind. 
“alright that’s it for today- announcements will be posted on the class board online,” the professors voice rang through, shaking kenma from his own thoughts once again. a bit disoriented at first, he looked around the room noticing how everyone was packing up there things. he followed suit, keeping his head down as he tried to leave without making his presence known. 
“ ‘m sorry,” he mumbled, pushing through other classmates as he practically ran towards the door. 
“yea next i have lunch so we could-”
“sorry,” both you and kenma speak in unison when you bumped into him.
“ah im sorry i wasn’t looking,” you apologize quickly, quickly walking around to pick up the headphones that fell out of his pocket. not having any idea who you were talking to, you quickly snatched them up from the floor, holding them out with an apologetic smile on your face. 
having admitted defeat, kenma slowly straightened up, his eyes averting yours as his face came into your view. 
“ ‘s alright,” he quickly grabbed the headphones from you, getting ready to book it out of there, before being stopped by your hand on his wrist. 
“kenma…?” your voice was soft, eyes wide with a small frown on your face. with a sigh, he looked at you once more, his lips in a firm line. you two stand there for a moment, the room getting increasingly quiet as more students filed out.
“y/n who’s this?”
“oh uh-,” you jumped, letting go of kenma’s wrist as your friends voice broke the silence. “he’s just a friend from highschool,” you felt yourself wincing slightly at your excuse, glancing over to gauge kenma’s reaction. kenma stood there with his head bent down slightly, hands shoved in his pocket as he studied the tiles on the floor. “you guys can go ahead, i’ll catch up with you guys later,” you quickly dismissed your friends, eyes flicking between them and kenma as if you were scared he’d try to run off. 
after the classroom emptied you motioned for kenma to follow you out, your heart racing as the two of you walked down a quiet hallway. 
“so,” you started, glancing over at kenma as he walked next to you, jaw stiff as he kept his eyes forward. “i didn’t know you were going here,”
“yea,”
“do you have a class right now?”
“no,”
“wanna get lunch?” your voice was small, glimpsing over at kenma and bracing yourself for rejection. 
“... sure,” he spoke lowly, not sparing you a glance as he nodded. you smiled to yourself, shoving your hands in your pockets awkwardly as you led him off of campus. the awkward tension between the two of you was devastating and you so desperately wanted to get rid of it. but knowing how things ended with him, how you ended things with him, you knew that wouldn’t be easy. 
after a small walk the two of you were now standing in front of a small cafe not far from campus. without a word, kenma held the door open for you, keeping his eyes occupied every but on you. a surge of guilt waved through you as you muttered a thanks, walking in and looking around for a table. after sitting down, the uncomfortable silence had gotten the best of you and without a moment of self-restraint words started to flow out of you.
“kenma i’m sorry about how things ended between us- i know what i did was wrong and if you don’t want to talk to me then just say the word and i’ll disappear,” you looked at him, desperately wanting him to say anything, do anything, to just stop acting like a robot.
“again,”
“what?”
“you’ll disappear again,” kenma’s hands were balled into fists on his lap as he kept his eyes on the table in front of him. “you’ll disappear again but this time it’ll be because i asked, right?”
“kenma please,” you reached your hand out towards his side of the table but he pushed his chair back, shaking his head. 
“pretend you didn’t see me today. pretend we don’t know each other.” you watched pathetically as kenma got up from his chair, pushing it in with his shoe as he began to walk out of the cafe. you had half the mind the chase him and beg him to sit down and talk. but instead you watched out the window as he made his way back to the campus, a frown on your face as tears began to pool at your eyelashes. 
as soon as the warm air hit kenma’s skin, he instantly regret what he said. what he told you was actually the very last thing he wanted now that he knew you were so close. clenching his fists, he began blinking rapidly as he walked back towards the campus. 
a thought crossing his head caused him to whip out his phone. he cursed at his screen when he got the confirmation he desperately wanted not to come. kenma would have to see you five times a week for an hour long period. briefly, he thought about dropping out before realizing that was an absolutely stupid idea.
with a sigh, he looked back towards the cafe. maybe he should go back and apologize, tell you that he wasn’t mad and he could never hate you. but instead he clenched his jaw, and sped walk back to the campus, silently wishing all his thoughts would go away
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i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very much appreciated <3
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fawnprincessblog · 7 months ago
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𝒜𝓃𝓰𝓮𝓁'𝓈 𝒹𝓮𝓋𝓮𝓁𝓸𝓅𝓂𝓮𝓃𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓇𝓎.
(part 1: 'the praise and some coffee') type: slow burn, fluff (tom kaulitz 2015 × fem reader)
includes : teacher × student, childish annoying immature school girl who's name is Angel (you), teacher tom, wannabe teacher's pet, age gap. tom is 25, angel is 17. plot : angel, a young, childish and innocent honour student was shunned by her schoolmates due to her being a teacher's pet, but none of that mattered whenever she ran into her favorite teacher, Tom, that she so deeply admired, who she swears on her life she will serve until the day she dies. despite being favourited by many other teachers, tom does not favour her due to her clingy behaviour. she may be smart but her hormones play a huge part in her schooling life as well.
bambi's note! : hello sweeties :3 i don't really wanna explain much but i think you guys will be sick of hearing the same lame excuse to why i disappear quite frequently. writer block makes me want to suicide sometimes, i've been trying my hardest to write, this took me months to finally put tgt. crazy that it's short too. i have drafts from last year in my docs. im also an art student, so it makes it hard to tackle both things rn. anyway, have fun reading part one of 'Angel's development diary ' :3
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“Everyone now turn to page 74,” Tom instructs, his voice sharp and echoing across the classroom. The whole room was silent, only he could be heard. Nobody would disrespect a man like him, for he was rather strict, and serious, his only intention being to get his point across and educate his students. That’s what the majority saw in him. 
Well, except for one person. That was Angel. The honour student of her class.
Angel saw what other people did not care about. Despite being the very sophisticated and refined teacher everyone knew, to her he was so much more. Tom was a young, 25 year-old Maths teacher. She admired that strong body structure of his, and the way his face features all fit together. The way his hair was always worn in a messy bun, a few strands poking out the front, had just added to his good looks. He wasn’t over-dressed, like those wannabe scientists-looking teachers in her physics classes; he was rather usually seen in t-shirts. On special occasions, she got to see him in a suit. 
He wasn’t the kind to play around. He expected all his students to pass his class with flying colours, not one left behind. In fact, all teachers wished the same. In such a popular and very high-class school, of course every single student had to be well-behaved and supremely knowledgeable.
The school Angel went to was one with a high standard of academic and extracurricular achievements. It has a strong emphasis on academics and often has a highly selective acceptance rate, which makes it difficult to get in. She was quite lucky. The campus has beautiful architecture, state-of-the-art facilities, and ample resources for students' academic and personal development. The faculty members are very well-educated and experienced in their respective fields, and the school often has a high student-teacher ratio. The students are often from wealthy families with a strong academic focus, and the school often boasts a high graduation rate. 
Coming from such a school that was great and had put Angel’s reputation in great hands meant no mistakes were to be made at all. She had to maintain her good grades. And one thing is for sure: she couldn’t possibly keep having dirty thoughts about her teacher. 
“Hey, you,” Tom called out, snapping his fingers twice. “Angel?” 
She snapped out of her trance almost immediately, a little startled by his tone. “Oh—yes?” she responds, heat evidently rising in her cheeks the moment he had called out her name. Oh, when he said her name, it only served to heighten her arousal. His voice was so strong and firm, it made her squirm in her seat like a damn worm. All those dirty thoughts wouldn’t go away. 
“Are you gonna pay attention? Or is daydreaming the only thing you like to do?” Tom asked, folding his muscular arms across his chest, staring right into her soul. He had this scary glare that usually put most students in fear, but to her, it was attractive. His dominant demeanour when teaching a lesson made her imagine all these horrendous things, like how he was in bed. 
“N-No—! Um, I was listening,” Angel responds, clearing her throat. She shifted a little in her seat, tugging at the hem of her red plaid skirt. She was wet. So uncomfortably wet and aroused, she would’ve probably left a stain on the chair if she had gotten up.
“I hope so,” Tom grunted, turning back to the chalkboard to continue writing those endless amounts of Math sums. It was overwhelming to look at; all of the numbers bunched together, the dusty residue of the chalk making it even worse. It was a lot to take in, however that was just how it was. 
His teaching continued, his voice loud and clear. Angel diligently started writing down her notes, trying to keep up with his pace. Being such a good student, she had become fond of his teachings, and she was expected to have one of the highest marks among the rest, even if everyone else was already good. 
An honour student. That’s what she was. Supposedly, she was the teacher’s pet. 
She did well, joined every possible club and involved herself in every school event, making sure she was obtaining high merit points that boosted her reputation in her school. Angel was simply a good little girl that most teachers did like, but the other students, and for some reason, Tom, did not like her. They found her exasperating. 
The bell rings. Class is over, and Tom is preparing a stack of worksheets to hand out to the class on the way out. “Alright class, tomorrow I wanna see all your worksheets full of numbers. All correct and no mistakes. I believe I’ve taught you all enough on this topic, so I expect perfect answers,” he announces. “You can pack up and leave now.” 
“Sir!” Angel calls out, rising from her seat abruptly, making everyone else pause from their packing up. Majority rolled their eyes. “You forgot to take attendance. Usually you take attendance every morning before class but since you forgot the checklist you said you would—”
“Right, right, okay,” Tom interrupts, an exasperated sigh followed right after. Clearly, he was pissed. Angel was quite aware that he disliked her try-hard behaviour, in fact, she was aware everyone did. Of course as an honour student she was made to please the teachers with good grades and behaviour, but the other students knew clearly she acted the most clingy around Tom. She saw past his strict demeanour and she acted like a child around him. Always trying to point out the simplest things, always reminding him about his meetings, always trying to get him his coffee, always trying to help him out at any damn chance she got— Angel was desperate and needy for his love. She was willing to make him love her. She wanted to be his favourite student. 
He notwithstanding, saw her as a confounded girl who was beating a dead horse. A try-hard, annoying, clingy little bitch that stuck to him like a damn tick. It irritated him when she acted like his little servant. 
But Angel liked it. She didn’t care. 
“Since you wanna help so much, get the checklist for me,” Tom tells her rather bluntly, clicking a pen in his hand as he speaks. Angel’s ears perk up at his request. “What? Really?” she asks, eyes full of joy. That annoying excited voice—it made his ears bleed.
“Go get it, it's in my office,” Tom says. “And hurry. Your classmates wanna leave class.” 
“Consider it done, sir!” she enthused, immediately dashing towards the door and running straight to his office. Like a little slave, she did everything for him.
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Recess time. One of the times where Angel would bother her favourite teacher the most. Even if she was trying to be helpful, she usually came off as a nuisance. He was an earnest and disciplined man, always keeping up with his set schedule. During break he’d grab coffee in the teacher’s lounge, discuss some things with his colleagues, or he’d take the coffee straight to his office so he can finish up paperwork. However he wasn’t the only one who kept to his schedule…
“Hi sir,” she greeted excitedly, grinning like an idiot. She blocked him, not allowing him to continue walking through the school hallway, which was empty since everyone else was at the cafeteria. “Where will you be taking yourself to today? Do you need help with anything?
He lets out a breath, trying his hardest to not let her irritate him right now. Angel being around him was something he couldn’t possibly avoid. It was an everyday thing now. “No,” he said simply. He then looked around. “Do I look like I need help?” His tone was dripping with sarcasm. Angel could tell, but she couldn’t be bothered. 
“You may not be holding anything that I could help you carry, but there’s other things I can help with,” Angel says. “Like, your coffee. Do you want me to get your coffee?” She was just so damn innocent  acting like a maid trying to please him with every chance she got. She really acted like life was all unicorns and rainbows, like she had not a single issue in the world.
“For the last time, I can get it myself. You’ve been asking this everyday now,” Tom sighs. “Shouldn’t you be eating? It’s recess. Go eat.”
“I already have,” Angel replies with that annoying giggle right after, making him clench his jaw. She was insufferable. That giggle was ingrained into his mind. He could recognise it from a mile away. 
“Okay, good. Now if you don’t mind, you can just mov—”
“One sachet of the coffee mix, two teaspoons of sugar and some milk to top it off,” she interrupted, making him raise an eyebrow. “You use the blue mug. Always the blue mug,” she added.
“You know my coffee?” he asked, a little disturbed by her knowledge on how he liked his coffee. His eyes narrowed to slits, peering at her.
“Yep,” she replies, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. To him, she was a complete stalker at this point. “You have about 12 minutes to go to the teacher’s lounge and get your coffee, and return back to your office to finish marking off the recent test you gave us before you have to rush to the meeting you have with Mr.Harrison about the new changes we’re making to the school’s mural art.” 
“What?” he said, almost wanting to laugh in disbelief. That was way too many words for him to comprehend. “You know my schedule?” 
“Well I memorised it,” she shrugged. “Tuesday’s and Fridays you stay in your office during break. All the other days you’re eating at the teacher’s lounge.
What the hell, he thought, looking at her with the most perplexed look he’s ever plastered onto his perfect face. “What are you doing, stalking me? My schedule is printed on paper and left in the drawer of my desk—”
“It’s also printed in my mind,” she joked, pointing a finger to her temple. 
He looks at her, bewildered. Completely uneasy. He didn’t like this. He knew she always had this weird thing for him, but he didn’t think she was this peculiar, knowing his schedule and all. Tom was taken aback by her behaviour, but he remained unruffled for now. It wasn’t too surprising, since she had been doing this for a while; asking him if she could get his coffee, but he had always declined. In the past, she had been randomly reminding him about his meetings, or anything he planned to do on that day, which he also found annoying, but today she really surprised him, wording out his entire plan for today.  
He cleared his throat. “Well, I know my own schedule, I don’t need you to tell me,” he says.
“I know. You’re very smart. But, I figured you’d like help,” she says, grinning. 
He had to get rid of her. This damn pest of a student. “I don’t. Not right now. So, If you don’t mind, Angel, please move aside so I can go.” He tries to walk past her, but she stubbornly blocks him again. 
“C’mon, I’m sure you need someone to get your coffee,” Angel insisted, looking at him with those set of pathetic eyes, ones that he insanely hated to look at. She was small, pretty, and sweet, but she was tiring. He didn’t like her. “Angel…” he sighed, wanting to snap at her, but he held back; he may be strict, but there was no reason to be shouting at a student who just wanted to help so badly, right? “...Fine. Get my coffee, bring it to my office. Now.” he finally relented, looking down at her rather annoyed that he had forced himself to give in. Oh, she really had her ways. 
“Yes, sir!” Angel exclaims, smiling widely, and she dashed off, disappearing immediately. Tom folded his arms, watching the pesky little girl run off to get his coffee like a slave. She obeyed him so much, wanting to do anything just for his attention. He chuckled a little, he couldn’t help himself.
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“One coffee,” she says, placing the blue ceramic mug onto his desk slowly, as if she were a waitress. Tom had been busy on his computer, going over some emails while waiting. She had returned rather quickly. Tom flashed her a faint smile, and he took the cup, taking a small sip. She had got it right. It tasted exactly like how he wanted. 
Wait for the praise, wait for the praise, Angel thought in her mind, eagerly looking at him for a positive reaction with big, innocent eyes. 
“It’s exactly how I like it, Angel,” Tom finally says, looking up at her. He noticed her small hands fidgeting with the hem of her school skirt. “Good job,” he finally praised, his voice low and soothing. 
Angel’s cheeks immediately flushed pink. Everytime he gave her praise, her arousal hit her like a brick. She couldn’t contain herself. She could already feel herself soaking her panties. “N-No problem, sir…” Angel says, her lips slowly curling into a nervous grin. She squeezed her thighs together a little, trying to contain herself. 
“You may go now,” he says. 
“Y-Yes,” she nods, bowing a little as a sign of respect. She then left.
Tom did not know the effect he had on this girl. If only he could ease that ache.
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junabuggy · 8 months ago
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Hi there!
Would you please make some platonic Alastor x reader headacanons? Basically, best friend hc's :)
Alastor x Reader: Bestfriend headcanons
A/n: Ofc !! Best friend headcanons are fun as hell to write 😽 (writers block is killing me rn tho so I’m sorry if this is bad, I have some more headcanons kinda similar to this here andddd here)
Warnings: none
Fluff✔️ Comfort❌ Angst❌ Smut❌
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📻𖤐 Gossip sessions with Alastor would actually be the best omg
📻𖤐 Would 1000% shit talk with you about like… almost everybody.
📻𖤐 Would not have the sessions over tea though, he hates tea and prefers to drink just straight up black coffee (sometimes with a splash of cream, depends on the day)
📻𖤐 Bro does NOT know how to ask to hangout properly. He just shows up and expects you to be ready for his arrival 😭😭
📻𖤐 Like literally he will just randomly materialize himself in your room and stares at you (not exactly quietly though, silly radio man makes radio sounds)
📻𖤐 You’re his bestie? Congrats !! You now have the privilege of getting to manhandle him
📻𖤐 Then again it kinda depends on what mood he’s in. Grumpy? No touch. Happy? Calm?? Sure !!
📻𖤐 How to even become Alastor’s best friend?? Well…
📻𖤐 He’s quite literally a magnet for sweet women. Be a sweet woman who’s maybe batshit crazy as well and you’re pretty much set /hj
📻𖤐 But obviously you do have to be entertaining or interesting to him as well.
📻𖤐 He’s a biter. He bites to show affection 😭
📻𖤐 I know I’ve said this and referenced this a LOT but dancing with him??? He loves it. No matter the time or place.
📻𖤐 PROTECTIVE.
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𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞
ᯓ★ 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐲
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hannahluvsbillie · 1 month ago
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miss me?
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★~ pairing : billie eilish x reader
★~ cw : none
a/n : this fic is so messy and it’s absolute dog shit but i have crazy writers block rn im sorry guys 😣😣
a/n 2 : no this isn’t a part of the casual series!! trying to aim for this week or next for part 3
the sounds of blaring music and people talking filled your ears, constantly. you were dragged to this party.
your friends say it’s because you haven’t been out often since- well since you and billie broke up.
but how can they blame you? she was your soul tie, your other half. and they think you can get over her in a couple of weeks? you can only wish it was that easy.
you lean your head back on the back of the couch, looking at how the lights flash annoyingly bright colors.
god you just wanted to go home.
well, that was until you hear a familiar voice.
your head snaps to the side, only to see billie. she wasn’t supposed to be here, you hadn’t seen her in months.
your breathing speeds up, it feels like you haven’t seen her in years. she looks so different- yet the same.
her hair is the same, except now it’s just black. she changed the red roots you loved so much.
her voice was the same, her laugh, not that you’d expect that to change, it just felt foreign to hear that sound again after not hearing it for months.
you see her look over in your direction, if you weren’t staring at her in absolute awe, you wouldn’t of seen the way her eyes widen just a millimeter when she sees you.
it seems like you both didn’t expect to see each other again.
it’s felt like you two are planets apart, watching her live through social media, listening to her new songs just to realize who they’re about.
before you know it, she’s walking over. you look down at your phone, trying to ignore her gaze.
“hey, haven’t seen you in a minute.”
she says, her voice as soft and playful as you remember it. it felt like rediscovering your once favorite song.
you look up at her from your phone, your eyebrows raising just a smidge.
“hi” is all you manage to get out before she speaks again
“you seem like you don’t want to be here.” she says, she notices the way your eyes are sunken in just a little, you look skinnier, and not in a good way. you look so familiar but so different.
“yeah, i really don’t.” you say, looking away from her gaze, looking at a wall beside you. anything to ignore those eyes.
before you know it, she’s sitting next to you on the couch.
“so, how have you been?” she says, her voice sounds like she knows the answer already. she also knows your going to lie.
“uh- fine.” you say, looking back at her.
but not into her eyes. you couldn’t handle it.
you could smell the alcohol in her breath, since when did she drink?
your brows furrow in confusion for just a second, before you relax your face and take a sip of your drink, letting silence fall over the both of you.
“how’s shark?” you ask out of pure awkwardness, what else were you supposed to ask her?
“oh uh- he’s fine. i think he misses you though.” she says, laughing softly. she looks up to see you smiling with her, she’s missed your laugh.
silence once again falls over the two of you, not having any words left to say. but there was this unspoken tension, like you needed to talk but didn’t know how to start the conversation.
“since when did you drink?” you say, looking down at my feet.
you glance up at her, looking into her eyes. her eyes are no longer on yours.
she realizes you noticed the smell of alcohol in her breath.
“since we ended things.” she says, sounding almost embarrassed. she was never a drinker.
your eyes widen for a moment, nodding slowly.
did she really start drinking then? there’s no way. she seems so.. good now.
“oh.” is all you manage to get out, not knowing what to say to that. was it your fault?
you hear her take a deep breath, as if she’s gaining the courage to say something. you glance over at her to see her looking at you like your the only person in the world.
“i really miss you y/n.” she speaks, speaking fast, like she didn’t want you to hear it.
your head snaps over to look at her, you barely heard her over the music and people chatting, but you heard it. loud and clear.
you take a deep breath, it was like everything came back to you then. specifically why you two broke up. the constant fighting and screaming matches, the secretiveness of it all.
“billie you can’t do this to me.” you say, softer then anything else you’ve said. she immediately looks away from you, as if she realizes she just fucked everything up for a second time.
“yeah- fuck- sorry.” she says, grabbing her drink from the table and getting up. she stands up, looking at you.
“just- call me if you ever feel the same.” she says quickly, before walking away, into the crowd of the party.
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icypenguin · 7 months ago
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★~ Streamer!venti headcanons!
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heyyy how’s everyone doinggg? sorry for the messy schedule by the way, i was in a writers block and can’t really figure out what you guys would like.. but i hope this is enough! so without further ado, please enjoyyyy!
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-streamer!venti who would play horror name ‘just for fun’ cuz he thinks he’s brave enough to face the fear, yet he got goosebumps just by the title screen and background music.
-streamer!venti who loves pokémon and sonic the most. he has a full collection of their funko pop figures.
-streamer!venti who’s got the famous and iconic squeal when he’s excited.
-streamer!venti who often streams with his friend in aim to complete a horror game but they ended up chatting about how unicorns are fake and their delusions on them becoming a business man...
-streamer!venti who does those kawaii neko girl dances just for fun but ended up getting viral and teased for it.
-streamer!venti who always includes you to his stream, even if it’s just you watching him or greeting chat.
-streamer!venti’s chat who has been asking since ages a go if you guys are dating and even started to make a ship page about you both.
~ small drabble ~
“CHAT CHAT CHAT HELP MEEE HELP ME WHERE- WHERE IN THE WORLD IS THE KEY- THE STUPID WAFFLELING KEY SHUTUP MONSTER SHUTUP YOU BIG POOPYHEADDDDDD” venti was screaming his lungs out by the horrors he got from the video game, not minding what could possibly happen if your neighbours have heard it. “shh venti quiet down! you’re being too loud!” you opened the door quickly to shush venti down, remembering what happened by the last time when venti screamed in the middle of the night… “oh yeah- sorry! AAAAAAA OPEN THE DOOR OPEN THE DOOR-THE KEY WONT WORK STUPID KEY STUPID STUPID STUPIDDDD” he was too focused on the screen that he even forgot what you just said. “VENTI! i told you to quiet down!” this behaviour or venti was tiring but still, you stayed with him even if you can’t have good rest. “oopsies… sorry y/n i- sighs i was so close to reaching the end!” he was now devastated since the monster succeeded to catch him and slash him in the game. both of his hands were placed on his hair as his elbows were on the table. another defeat of another game that he was on the edge to finish. you noticed what happened by his expression and felt guilt drowning your emotions. “ah- sorry.. i disturbed you, didn’t i?” you got closer to venti, patting his head in hope to cheer him up. “it’s fine y/n.. it was my fault too.. i should’ve been more careful” he looked up to see you with shimmering eyes, a mix of devastation and guilt. meanwhile you both were comforting eachother, chat was going crazy by the more-than-friends contact!
ilovegummybear456: SHIPPPPP
elgatofan1267: AWWW THEY’RE SO CUTEEE
pizzaburritoslice: OMG VENTI X Y/N CONFIRMED???
wigllyjellyyyyyies: SHIP NAME RN????
pandalover02: THEY’RE LITERALLY CUDDLING?!?!!?!?!?!
and the rest were filling the chats with love emojis… upon focusing on the screen again, you both were suddenly in a blushing mess as chat goes wild about this. neither of you were brave enough to speak so soon, but he finally did it. “so- shall we play pokémon shining pearl now?” he cleared his throat before saying and tried to move on to another topic, but chat resist and kept on spamming love emojis and teasings. “ughh guyss stop ittt! we’re just roomatessss!” he whined to make them stop while you giggled at this. “well chat, time for me to go! oh and- dinner in 30 minutes, kay?” “okie dokie!” he shot you and thumbs up and went back into his stream. now chat was teasing about you taking care of him, feeding him, cooking for him.. well, goodluck for him to escape out of this naggings!
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TYSM FOR READINGGG! hope u all liked this one! please have a nice dayy!
♫⋆。♪ ₊˚♬ ゚. thankyou for supporting! ୨♡୧
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pumpkinsy0 · 7 months ago
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tldr: @buddyaldridge is a 30 year old weirdo proshipper who talks shit about ppl behind their backs, block em and report if you can/want to
just wanna let everyone know theres a omegaverse mpreg dallyboy writer whos been an all around WEIRDOOOOO cause their brain is LITERALLY porn rotted and they cannot fathom ppl actually having fun at all, their @ is @buddyaldridge aka @pelopsides previously known as @madelynprior
in 2020-2022 the outsiders tumblr they used to be @madelynprior and theyre a hardcore dallyboy stan which is already fucking weird, but on top of that, they would make teen pregnancy omegaverse smut fics which??? and im not gonna give you the ss, nigga im givin yall the LINKKK to see it with your own eyes so you know im not crazy
how ik its them is bc on their acc RIGHT before they switched to their buddyaldridge acc, and before that acc was named “pelopides”, they used to go by “madeleinepryor”, how ik its the same person is bc on a good chunk of their post, theyd tag it as “#madeleinepryor dispatches” on top of that, they just straight up linked their ao3 acc😭😭
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heres what the link goes to, they linked their ao3 acc, they just changed their username on ao3 as well from madeleinepryor to greasers
now me calling them a proshipper isnt me talking out of my ass, they say it themselves like ughhhhjjj
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as for them talking about other ppl, i wont share ALL the screenshots bc idk if the ppl theyre talking bad about would rlly feel comfortable w those being posted, if they know, they can feel free to post it on their own accord, so like i said, wont share, but i HAVE seen some and i can conform that they have done it, its ABSOLUTELY NOT above them
for now ill post the ss i CAN post rn which just proves my point
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now ignoring that theyre talking smack, theyre just so odd and obviously didnt rlly think this through bc 1967 is ALREADY IMPLIED in the 60s, youre just incapable of reading things that arent about teen boys getting it on w each other PLEASE get a grip on reality😭😭
theyve talked about 14 year olds and their post on their acc just to shit on them, once again, GROWN ASS PERSON TWEAKIN OVER THE IDEAS OF A 14 YEAR OLD🗣️🗣️
NOW maybe your asking “how do you know the discord user and the tumblr user are the same person” AND I WILL ADMIT, while i DO have strong feelings they are the same person, its not 100% proven, HOWEVER buddyaldridge DOES go by buddy and that discord users name is buddy, so while its not concrete, the link IS there, once again, feel free to come to whatever conclusion you wanna come to about that
but what ISNT disputable is the fact that theyre a proshitter
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additionally just this??? reblog from them????
on its own, not MUCH, bit considering the fics they make this is SO weird like??????
and finally, ive heard that theyve specifically came for me about my haitian shepards and maybe even my heritage, saying that they hated race hcs??????like using me as an example, they ss my acc and talked shit, someone contacted me about it and they dont have ss of it specifically, but they can vouch for it, and im not just gonna dismiss that, bc while they dont have ss, they do have ss and proof of everything else, so i do believe them, and theyve said if they find it they would show them to me, do what you wanna with this info
ANYWAYS buddy, your brain is unironically pornrotted, ur being a lil baby who cant do anything but cry and moan online on discord of all places and ur doing all this as a 30+ year old, and its CRAZIER bc youre doing all this while having “minors dni” in your pinned post, while also writing about minors, in a fandom MOSTLY OF MIDDLE SCHOOLERS!!!! (aka minors!!! ik age is hard for you to grasp) on top of that, literally ANY and ALL race hcs is way more believable and enjoyable than any “ideas” you’ve been cooking up in that odd demented, shriveled up pea brain of urs
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anyways yea, that all i have to say, and im speaking for myself here, but i mean this with every fiber of my being, i dont know how you function in life but i DO NOT want you to go any farther, and i think others would/DO feel the same, ive seen what makes you cheer and i am PROUUUDDD to make you BOOOOO, you shouldnt be near minors at all, fictional or non fictional, you should BARELY be near other adults
plus if you go onto their acc rn, notice how when anon called them out, buddy aint even say they were wrong?? JUST SAYIN🗣️🗣️
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im tagging everything i can tag bc i DO NOTTTT want mfs interacting w their blog, and want as many ppl as possible to be aware, dont say anything to them, dont give them attention bc obviously they’ll think this is funny and post it on their shitty discord server or whatever and giggle like they arent a grown ass nigga w bills to pay, trying so hard to cling onto their high school days, making fics about a canon middle schooler getting banged and pregnant, pls block and report do whatever u wanna do, just plssss dont let this proshitter on this damn sight near kidssss😭😭
dont take this as me WANTING drama, i dont, i just dont want ppl coming in this fandom thinking posting this shit and doing this is ok, youre bullying ppl for doing harmless things meanwhile your just making straight porn about a weird ship left n right, thinking YOUUUUU of all ppl have the place to talk about anyone or anything like your opinion on anything is valid😭😭
you NEED stones thrown at you
if anyone has anymore ss send em to mmeeeeee, but in the mean time ill be doin my own thing wooooo‼️‼️🔥🔥
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solitude4chiron · 1 year ago
Text
Besties, right?
Miles 1610 x Black!fem!Artist reader
A/n: I know I’m wild for promising y’all this fic and just now dropping it 🤦🏾‍♀️ I had some crazy writers block ngl but I’m back 🙏🏾 I’ll be debating if I want to do a pt.2 for this 🫣
🎧- Love Galore- SZA, Travis Scott
Sometimes you questioned you and Miles’s relationship. Not in a bad way though. He was the sweetest boy you knew, at times he was too sweet, but that was just how he showed he cared. You both had been friends since elementary. Yeah, maybe you shared a kiss under the slide, or used to crush on each other, but you both left that in the past. There was no feelings there anymore..Right?
Millimeters 🙄: “You eat today y/n”
“nah 🥲 I’m sketching rn I’ll eat later”
Millimeters 🙄: “whatchu want for dinner 🤦🏾‍♂️”
“nothing”
Millimeters 🙄: “ight gimme a minute”
He always did little stuff like that, but after he’d always clarify it was in a best friend way, just incase.
Before you could get back to drawing there was a knock at your window, and a boy with a bag of food in his hand.
“Miles I told you I wasn’t hungry.” You said with a bit of a frown on your face. You couldn’t help but feel guilty when people did stuff for you, even if they didn’t mind.
“You said you weren’t hungry but you be lying soo…” He came into your room and closed the window, placing the food on your desk and flopping back on your bed.
“So what’s been up witchu y/n? You still talking to that boy from art?”
“I was never talking to him, we literally just sit next to each other in class.” You shrugged turning your back to him at your desk. He came over your shoulder to look at your sketchbook.
“You know you can take breaks right? Arts supposed to be fun.”
“I know, I’m tryna get this scholarship.”
“You will. Just chill with me for now.” He responded, closing your sketch book and getting his food out of the bag.
You both started eating and talking together, completely ignoring the time. Miles was right though, art had been consuming you at this point. He just didn’t want you to lose the fun in being creative.
“Anyways, I got us some tickets to a concert, guess who?” He looked up at you with a faint smirk and a mouthful of food.
“Miles you didn’t have to.”
“But I did. Now guess.” He responded quickly.
“I dunno? You really didn’t have to though..”
“Oh well, guess you’ll see who when we go on Friday.” He shrugged and smiled. “Just know you’ll love it.”
For some reason the room had a bit of tension in it, you couldn’t put your finger on why, and you wondered if miles felt the same way.
“Who you lookin cute for?” He said quickly, still looking down at his plate.
“Whatchu mean I’m just wearin pajamas?”
“Oh. You just look really pretty.” He said looking up from his plate with a faint smile.
“Mhm, thank you miles.” You chuckled a little, playing with your food with your fork. “Why you really come over here?” You said, looking up from your plate this time.
“What I can’t see my bestie?” He laughed, raising an eyebrow.
“No like…nevermind.” You said shaking your head a bit.
“You said you was hungry so I brung you food.” He shrugged quickly.
You genuinely couldn’t tell if miles had feelings for you or not. Honestly he acted like this to everyone, not on this scale obviously but he was a sweet person. Your brain was scrambled at this point, anybody looking at you could tell you had something on your mind.
He reached for his phone and sighed, the time was 12pm and his mom wanted him to come home.
“I gotta go, it’s getting mad late.”
“I wanted to ask you..nevermind it’s nothing.” You quickly said, sighing a little.
He got up from your bed and leaned down to press a kiss on your cheek.
“Stop overthinking it y/n.” He said before climbing out of your window.
You sat on your desk chair frozen in place. What just happened? What did he mean by that? A heavy sigh left your lips as you fell back on your bed and clutched your pillow in your arms.
A text pinged through your phone before you fell asleep.
Millimeters 🙄: “Hope you enjoyed the food :)”
“Night miles ❤️”
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leclercinvegas · 2 years ago
Note
24. “You’re a terrible liar.”, with logan sargeant before his first race, he’s feeling nervous/anxious but is pretending not to be? Xx
FIRST RACE JITTERS
who: logan sargeant x reader
authors note: hi sorry i haven't been writing, i've been busy with school and i was away for spring break. i also had massive writer's block, but hopefully, i get the motivation to write again. henceforth why i am writing rn.
summary: logan's got the pre-race jitters before his first grand prix but he is awful at pretending all is okay
prompt: 24. "you're a terrible liar" (from my prompt list)
warnings: anxiety
You could tell Logan was nervous, he was a very touchy person but not like he is right now. It was a lot more touchy than usual. He was laying completely on top of you with his full body weight.
"Everything okay logs?"
"Yeah, no I'm alright don't worry about me, love."
"Logan you are lying directly on top of me something is definitely wrong. You can tell me logs." He said nothing he stayed silent. You could feel his heart rate start increasing slowly as time moved on. "Logan Sargeant look at me right now. I know you're nervous. You're a terrible liar, especially when it comes to this type of stuff."
"I don't know why I'm so nervous. It's not like I've never raced before or like it's my first time in a car. I just can't get the thought of something going wrong and letting everyone down out of my head." You're eyes softened as you heard his reasons for being so nervous.
"Logs, listen to me. Nothing bad will happen to you. Everything will go amazing. You're P2. You have the potential to win. You're going to win and when you do ill be here waiting for you. I'll be cheering you on the entire time. I love you, Logan."
"You stay right here. I have a race to win." He tells you with the sweetest smile you have ever seen as he runs out the door to start getting prepared to get into his car.
It's been a crazy race filled with overtakes and constant battles. Logan and George Russell have been battling for the majority of the race. Until Russell messes up on a corner and makes it easy for Logan to pass him.
You're heart fills with absolute love and passion as you see your boyfriend cross the finish line in first. A smile spreads on your face from ear to ear while yelling and cheering for your boyfriend. "And Logan Sargeant has won his debut Grand Prix! This is incredible!"
After all the post-race cooldown laps, when the men arrive on the podium you see Logan step up onto the highest one. You could not be happier, looking at him from the side of the podiums. That was your boyfriend who won his first Grand Prix.
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as i usually say idk how i feel about this one. its very quick but its better than nothing
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allllium · 5 months ago
Note
Hi, Love! ❤️ It’s me again and I came here for Remus and his crazy people 🤪
As I have a birthday (age-should-not-be-named) maybe you could write something about celebrating the reader’s birthday?)
Speaking about the reader, she feels sad about the upcoming age (just because of the number, if you know what I mean) and she is a little bit harsh about it. So her boyfriend (Remus) decided to make a little cozy party with all close friends 😌 so they have fun 🥳
It may be a 18 celebration or they can be older, it’s up to you and your incredable imagination ❤️ I love your writing, so you’re free to everything you want 😉 especially your brilliant jokes 👌🏻
Sorry for bothering you 🥹 I just feel a little bit lonely at my day… my own marauder’s company lost in the time…
Birthday
~ I'm so sorry this took so long to get to, the writers block is real bad rn 😭 and also I apologize in advance but it ended up a little different than the request, if you want me to rewrite it closer to the ask I would be happy to, but either way I really hope you like and happy late birthday, I hope you had a wonderful time <3
~ WC:1,888 [Hurt/Comfort, Fluff]
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~ Reader celebrates a birthday
“Good morning Angel!” You recognize your boyfriend's voice even as you dig your face further in the pillow to tune it out. “Happy birthday!”
“Let me sleep.” Of course Remus doesn't listen to your plea, opting for dragging you out of bed himself. “No no no.”
“Yes yes yes. C'mon love we've got to celebrate!” When you turn to face him, he looks genuinely excited to celebrate with you.
“Okay let's go.” You give him the best smile you can muster, not wanting to disrupt his excitement.
“Okay great!” He immediately grabs your wrist to drag you out of his dorm.
“Rem, wait, I need to get dressed first.” You laugh.
“I think you look fine like that.”
“I’m wearing pajamas and my hair is a mess.”
“Exactly my type.” You shake your head at him and turn to pull some clothes you've left in his dorm.
“Celebrating can wait a minute.” Or forever you think silently. It's not that you hate your birthday, you would rather just not have it. Why celebrate another year passing by that you'll never get back? Why celebrate another year closing to dying?
“Fine but only one minute, I'm counting.”
“Why are you in such a hurry?” You ask him once you're dressed.
“Because I love you, I want to show you how happy I am that you were born.” His words make you grin, he always knows how to make you feel better especially when he doesn't know he needs to. But why celebrate getting closer to the end of the time you have with him?
“You're a sweet talker Mr. Lupin.” You pull him down for a soft kiss before allowing him to pull you off to whatever he has planned.
“Okay, first hour picnic breakfast.” He tells you happily. Wait what?
“I'm sorry, did you just say the first hour? Did you plan this hour by hour?”
“Of course I did, my angel deserves nothing but the best.” You stop walking for a split second. Why does he care about this so much? It's not a miracle, or an unusual thing. It's just a birthday. All it means is that you're getting older, losing more time.
Remus notices your stillness, “C'mon, love, we have a full day ahead of us.”
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“Alright on to hour Three.” Remus announces as you both clean up your picnic blanket.
“Well what's next?” You ask, a little reluctantly. Spending alone time with Remus is always amazing but you're a little worried about adding more people into the mix. Your anxiety about it has been low for now but you know it's gonna get worse.
“Next is my present for you.”
“Rem this is enough, you've already planned a whole day for me.”
“No it's not, I got you the perfect gift.”
“You are the perfect gift.”
“As flattering as that is, wrong.” He pulls up off the ground, and gives you a quick kiss. “Move it.”
“Woah being mean to me on my birthday.” You joke.
“You'll be fine, angel.” His smile makes the butterflies in your stomach erupt. Maybe a birthday isn't so bad if you have him with you.
“Hmm I want my present.”
“Then hurry up and we can go get it.”
“It's not my fault. You're so tall you walk a million miles an hour.”
“And it's not my fault you're so small you walk at a snail's pace.” You throw a hand over your heart dramatically
“How dare you, this is bullying.”
“No it's not, it's a fact. We're almost there anyway.”
“Where is there?”
“It's in my dorm.”
“No it's not, I looked.”
“And I hid it because I knew you'd do that.”
You sigh dramatically, “I would never.” You defend.
“You just admitted it!” He accuses.
“I did not! Let's go! Faster!”
“Oh so now I don't walk fast enough, make up your mind.”
“I will not. I shall continue to be indecisive.” He lets out a throaty chuckle at your statement.
“Oh you shall?” He questions, still laughing.
“Don't make fun of me, I'm being fancy.”
“You are a lot of things but fancy isn't one of them.”
“Hey, what does that mean!” You smack him lightly on his chest.
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After a walk way longer than it should be, you finally reach his dorm and sit on the bed expectantly.
“Where's my present?” You immediately demand.
“Woah not even a please.” He jokes and stands in front of you.
“Well someone got my hopes up, this better be good Lupin.” He grins at you and orders you to close your eyes.
“This is too good of a hiding spot to give up.” He tells you.
After quite a few moments of shuffling happening behind you and quite a few “oh fucks” as your clumsy boyfriend unsurprisingly bumps into a couple things, a small box is placed gentle in your awaiting hands.
Your eyes fly open the second you feel the strange-feeling material in the palm of your hand. The first you notice is that the box is heart shaped with an engraving on the top, saying “My angel”
“Remus, this is amazing.” Without even opening it you already know this is the best gift you've ever received.
“You haven't even opened it yet, dove.” He sits on the bed beside you, putting his arm around your waist.
“Doesn't matter, I love it.”
“Open it, angel.”
Following his advice you open the heart-shaped box and immediately fall in love with him even more. In the box sits a simple charm bracelet, already adorned with three charms. All right next to each other is an angel charm, a heart charm, and a moon charm, all in that order.
“Do you like it?”
“Rem, I love it. This is the best thing ever.”
“I highly doubt that but I'm glad you love it.”
“Why did you do a moon and not a wolf for you?” You ask him, trying to distract yourself from the rush of emotions running through you.
“Well I was gonna but it looked very dog-like and Sirius said he was honored to be included.” He lets out a deep sigh of disapproval.
You can't help the laugh that bursts out, “Oh of course he did. Thank you Remus, really.”
“Well I would love anything you give me but this is incredible.”
“I couldn't give you anything but the best for this special day.” Special indeed.
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“Welcome to hour five.” Remus declares while you enter the kitchens. After spending hour 3 and 4 in Remus’s dorm gushing over your new bracelet, and demanding his help in putting it on, he rushed you on to the event of hours 5 to 7. You are very curious as to why he pulled three hours out for this event.
He pulls you into the kitchens and you see the counters covered in enough ingredients to make a hundred cakes.
“What's this?”
“Well I wanted to make you a cake but realized I don't know how to make a cake without magic.” He looks down a little ashamed to be asking you to help make your own birthday cake.
“I believe this was a very smart choice, I wouldn't want you to burn down Hogwarts.” You grin at him.
“I'm sorry, I know I should've asked someone else first.”
“I'm glad you didn't, I like baking.” Despite the growing feeling in your stomach, his smile makes you smile.
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After 3 hours of baking, 2 failed cakes, and 1 kitchen covered in cake ingredients that didn't seem to make it into the bowl, you and Remus have successfully acquired a birthday cake. It's not the prettiest and probably not the best tasting, but it's something you have created together and that's more than enough for you.
Hour 8, aka the final hour Remus has planned, is making you freak out. Despite preparing all day for this, the pit in your stomach has continued brewing and now feels too much to handle. As long as it's just you and Remus, alone, it doesn't feel like much of a birthday. Even with the cake and present, and Remus telling you happy birthday every two seconds, as if you'll forget, it feels natural. Not celebratory. Now, however, more people are getting involved.
You shouldn't be feeling this way. All of your closest friends getting together in the common room to celebrate your birthday should be exciting, not scary. Well it's not exactly scary, more of a feeling you can't seem to place.
You and Remus part ways for the first time of the day so you can get ready in your dorm. Once you're ready, you begin to head for the common room, hand freezing on the doorknob. Without thinking, you back up, taking a sitting place on the bed. You can feel the tears forming in your eyes for reasons you still can't understand.
As you sit there trying to cover your strange emotions, Remus comes into your dorm. Without saying a word he sits on the bed and gives you a hug.
“I'm sorry.” You tell him, knowing the effort he put into this perfect day.
“Whatever for love? This is your day, feel however you must.” He gives you a kiss on the forehead and slowly pulls away from the hug.
“I don't understand why I feel like this, it's just an age.” You try to explain. Luckily your amazing boyfriend knows you way too well.
“Because it's scary,” he begins to explain, far better than you did, “and it's new. I mean no one wants to get older but you gotta think of the upside.”
“And what would that be?”
“Well we get a little older, we leave school, we get married and get a ton of plants we'll never be able to keep alive.” He seems to have put a lot of thought into your future together. “Even though it feels like we're saying goodbye to a part of your life, we're also beginning a new part. One that we can form yo be whatever we want.”
“How do you always know just what to say?”
“I speak from my heart, most of it is nonsense.”
“Maybe but it always works. I love you.”
He smiles at you for the thousandth time today but it still gives you that funny feeling in your chest. “I love you too, angel. Ready to go celebrate?”
“Yeah I think so, thank you.”
“Anytime, love.”
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And so you celebrate. A small party with all your friends and everyone you love. But for some reason you no longer have that pit in your stomach. You no longer feel the tears building as you blow out the candles on your perfectly imperfect cake. You no longer feel as if growing older is a curse you can't get out of.
You head back into Remus's dorm for bed. You can't help but keep your eyes stuck on the bracelet dangling off your wrist as you do your nightly routine. As you cuddle in bed next to Remus, you no longer want the day to be done with. Instead, wanting it to last forever as you talk and laugh with him. You no longer worry about the past and instead focus on the future. Now understanding there's still so much more you have to look forward to.
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~ This is actually so relatable to me due to my anxiety, I was actually late to my last birthday party for this exact reason 😭 I hope everyone reading this knows that birthdays are a reason to celebrate, you have so much to look forward to as you age and I'm very glad you were born <3
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