#and i mean worst fears. even the way they passed. spot on to my worst fears

[angelstrawbabie420]

grief will have you saying shit like goddamn and fuck maybe the abuse was worth it

[loveinhawkins]

Robin’s always had a soft spot for Eddie Munson, but up until recently it had been in a distant kind of way; she appreciated his class clown act, the way it had a domino effect of keeping the heat off the band kids, how he hogged the spotlight for any passing douchebag’s attention.

But then they both literally dive into The Upside Down, and her appreciation reaches a whole new level.

They’re in the Wheeler’s garage, thanking their lucky stars that four bikes exist in 1983 (and yeah, Robin’s sure that if she thinks about the whole time thing for half a second more her brain will promptly melt, so she doesn’t).

Each of them are pushing their chosen bike down the driveway, in a dazed sort of silence—the high of the Lite-Brite worn off in the face of another grim journey through The Upside Down.

Steve is flagging, Robin can hear it: his breathing’s growing laboured as he walks, an occasional unsteadiness to him that’s setting her anxiety off all over again, because what if they were wrong, what if it’s really rabies, and it’s too late, it’s coursing through his veins, and he’s—they’re gonna lose him—

“Hey, Harrington,” Eddie says, swinging a leg over his saddle, “wanna race?”

“… Hmm? Sorry, what?” Steve says.

There’s not even that long of a delay in him speaking, but the pause still has Robin’s heart in her throat.

Eddie’s got one foot on a pedal now, ready to set off. He looks back at them with a shaky grin—like he’s terrified, but he’s still gonna have some fun anyway.

“I’m throwing down the gauntlet, King Steve. Bet I’ll be faster than you.”

Steve scoffs, stands up a little straighter before he mirrors Eddie, balancing on the bike with one foot on the pedal.

“How much are we betting?”

Eddie huffs. “Oh, no money involved,” he says nonchalantly. He raises an eyebrow in challenge. “This is just for the glory.”

And God, there’s that spark back in Steve’s eyes; it’s like Robin can physically see his competitive streak giving him strength.

Eddie Munson, you beautiful soul, she thinks, I could kiss you.

“Faster than me? Yeah, maybe in your dreams, Munson,” Steve says.

But Eddie’s already speeding off with a comical whoop; Steve curses as he hurriedly tries to catch up, yelling, “You dick, that’s cheating!”

“Not in my rulebook!” Eddie says with a cackle.

And for a little while, that’s enough to put Robin’s mind at ease: watching the pair of them taunt each other like kids—hearing Nancy laugh at the spectacle as she bikes alongside her.

But then she falls through the Gate, Eddie close behind her, and they freeze when Steve screams Nancy’s name with such fear.

Robin’s plunged back into a mind-numbing panic; she’s sure that her heart doesn’t even begin to slow until they’ve left the trailer park, until Steve’s control of the RV switches from ‘holy shit, we’re on the run, what have our lives become?’ to something more normal—the reliable, measured driving she’s familiar with, taking her to and from school or work.

Finally, she has time to, um… take stock. Of… things.

She wobbles her way over to Eddie, grabbing onto his elbow as Steve takes a turning.

Eddie instantly holds her up, a steadying hand around her waist. “Oh, hi. I’ve gotcha—” “Your music isn’t actually shit,” Robin says in one breath. “I know, um, on balance, it’s probably not the worst thing I could’ve said, but the delivery was—but, you know, considering I thought Nance was literally about to die, I’d say it was, like, kinda calm all things considered, but—”

Eddie’s chuckling. “Yeah, on balance,” he echoes teasingly, “you were pretty damn funny, actually. Uh, sorry for. Um. Screaming at you? Basically?”

“Basically,” Robin agrees. “Yeah, you were like impressively loud. Not quite eardrum-rupturing level, but y’know, I don’t actually know anyone who’s really had that happen to them; Amanda Wallis said she ruptured hers at the pep rally ‘cause she was standing too close to us—the band, I mean, but—”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Oh, that’s bull, there’s no way that’d be loud enough to—”

“—I think she just had a grudge ‘cause David C on mellophone got literally the tiniest bit of spit on her, and he was only—”

“Yeah, well, everyone knows you sit in the splash zone at your own risk.”

“Exactly! She’s had plenty of time to learn marching band protocol.”

“Uh-huh, protocol,” Eddie echoes again, with a giggle.

He’s got a nice kind of laugh, Robin thinks: one where she’s never in doubt that he’s laughing with her rather than at her.

“That stuff you do’s pretty cool,” he says; with his free hand, he actually imitates her mime of playing a trumpet. “You must have good, uh…” She can see the exact moment that he’s having second thoughts about saying it, but he forges ahead anyway, with a hilariously uncertain, “Good… lungs?”

“Fascinating attempt at a compliment,” Robin says. “Luckily for you, I accept insults as, like, equal tokens of friendship.”

Eddie does a double take. He doesn’t go so far as letting out a questioning, “We’re friends?”, but he might as well have said it anyway: his eyes widen for a moment, like someone who’s just been unexpectedly asked out to prom.

Steve takes another turning; he does it smoothly enough, but even he can’t stop the RV from moving with it, and Robin stumbles again, very nearly ends up repeating how she toppled right onto Eddie in The Upside Down.

“Woah there, you’re good,” Eddie says, “just gotta find your, uh, what’s it called? Your equilibrium.”

“I don’t have any,” Robin says, all theatrical devastation, and Eddie snorts.

“Sure you do, Buckley. Look, just take my—yeah, that’s it, then just kinda straighten up… yeah, you’ve got it.”

And yes, after a minute or so, Robin’s footing does feel more certain, but she still keeps a stubborn grip on Eddie’s elbow, just in case.

“God, d’you know what I’m gonna do when all this is over?” Eddie says.

“Pray tell.”

“I’m gonna make a list. What was it you said, Madonna, Blondie…? Whatever, I’m getting all of them, m’never getting caught out like that again.”

“I’m hoping that needing music to evade the clutches of a serial killer from an alternate dimension is, um, strictly a one-time thing.”

“Don’t care,” Eddie says. “Still buying those tapes. Just in case.”

And yeah, it’s said partly in jest, but Robin can hear that he means it. Still, it’s the most optimistic that she’s heard him be so far: making plans for after, like he can really see a way through this. Like maybe he finally knows that they’ll help him get there.

“Need a list of tapes from you too, Buckley. You and Harrington.”

Robin smiles. Her first thought is of singing Total Eclipse of the Heart from the dirt-ridden floor of a mall bathroom, but then she thinks of every car ride with Steve, every time they’ve turned up the radio to belt along, and she knows that there are way too many songs to count.

“Forget a list,” Robin says, “I could fill a book. Same for big boy over there.”

Eddie blinks, like he’s suddenly taking stock, too. “Oh yeah,” he says, laughing lightly, “I did say that, huh?”

“Sure did. I was doubting my ears, too.”

Robin had been hoping they’d long since reached the point of being able to joke around with one another. But while Eddie does laugh again, he also starts biting at his thumbnail, glancing over at Steve in the driver’s seat.

“Um, hey.” Robin manages to keep her balance, briefly pressing her knee against his leg. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Eddie.”

“No, I know.” Eddie huffs self-effacingly. “I’ve kinda got permanent foot-in-mouth disease, my report cards would tell you that.”

Well, if he wants to pass it off as sometimes I just say the darnedest things, Robin would be a hypocrite to deny him.

It fascinates her in a sad sort of way though, how he veers between joking and nervousness—like he’s worried he’s intruding on their group, of overstepping somehow.

She wants to tell him: Look, we all got dragged into this, but we chose to stick around, and you’re no different.

But she no longer has the aftermath of Russian drugs to help bypass her own nerves, to kickstart her sincerity.

“Hey, you’re awfully quiet back there,” Steve calls, and Eddie startles.

Robin shakes her head. “Not us, that’s his—”

“Hello? Henderson, I’m talking to you.”

“We’re not even doing anything!” Dustin shouts back in exaggerated affront.

He’s sat on the backseat of the RV, peering out the window along with Lucas, Erica and Max. Robin stifles a chuckle at the sight; they look like they’re on a field trip—the cool kids at the back of the bus.

“Yeah, well, just checking,” Steve says, amused. “For all I know, you coulda been building a gigantic radio again on, like, the roof of this thing.”

“Cerebro,” Dustin says, just as Eddie lets out a baffled, “Uh, again?”

But then they’re pulling into The War Zone’s parking lot, and any chatter abruptly dies.

Afterwards, Steve gets off the road to park in a reassuringly deserted field. They don’t head outside right away (Robin’s not exactly looking forward to prepping Molotov cocktails), instead staying in the RV to eat junk food they’d grabbed beforehand.

Robin discovers that Dustin’s somehow bought five more cans of Pringles and snorts, declaring, “You’ve got a problem.”

At some point, Steve tries to sneak off to the bathroom so he can change his dressings—“And use actual proper bandages!” Robin calls to him; no offence to Nancy’s resourcefulness, but the torn shirt strips only do so much good.

It becomes a more comical than horrifying event, although she’s sure that’s down to Steve deliberately making it so, like a sleight of hand trick: playing it down as he keeps talking to the kids throughout, never wincing even once.

He ends up having to keep the bathroom door open to continue an argument with Erica over which Scoops Ahoy sundae was the best of all time—then figures that he might as well just step out into the open anyway.

At least the wounds have stopped bleeding—although the sight of Steve cleaning around them with bottled water is one that Robin could personally do without.

The kids are entirely unfazed. They flock to Steve, peering at the glimpses he lets them see like he’s just got a cool tattoo. Robin supposes that after El and whatever nightmare wormy thing was in her leg, they’ve seen everything.

Eddie, however, is another matter. He keeps quiet about it, not obvious at all, but Robin watches his face grow paler and paler before Steve wraps the new bandages around his stomach.

Dustin, bless his precocious little heart, must also notice, because he quickly starts up a seemingly impromptu game of charades, meaning that Eddie is soon distracted by his ridiculously over the top gestures.

“No, Steve, how are you not getting this?”

“I thought the whole appeal of this game was that you’re not meant to talk, Henderson. Dude, watch it, you nearly took Max’s eye out with… whatever the hell that was.”

“Oh my god, it’s Back to the Future, obviously! Ow, Max, I didn’t mean to—uh, yeah, the mime needs to be that big, how else am I gonna project what—”

“Dustin, I swear to god, I’m about to project you out the window,” Steve drawls.

Eddie laughs, hides it behind his hand.

But Steve must catch it, because he glances over at Eddie and winks before he’s dragged back into guessing another movie title.

And Robin’s obviously seen Steve wink before—he does it all the time, so much so that she’s become quite adept at reading when it’s a friendly one for her, or if he’s sharing some kind of in-joke with one of the kids.

She’s also seen his attempts at a ‘smooth’ wink towards some girls at work—and look, he’s Steve Harrington, it’s not like he’s going to be bad at it.

But if you ask Robin, it’s never looked quite right, like he’s always performing to an audience he’s unsure of.

But this wink doesn’t look like it belongs to either of those categories. Well, it’s got something in common with the first: that it looks entirely natural, as if he’s doing it almost without thinking. Like it just feels right.

They go through some more rounds of charades—Dustin’s gestures, if possible, getting even more dramatic—and Eddie gradually goes from contributing a few guesses to none at all, curling up on the backseat. He looks utterly wiped out.

Robin tries to catch Nancy’s eye, and after a few attempts, she gets the message, stands up with a nod.

“Okay, let’s take this outside, guys.”

“Spoken like a true camp counsellor,” Max says.

Nancy acts like she’s offended, but her lips keep twitching into a smile. “Max, never say that to me again.”

“There’s more space outside,” Erica says, “so we can duck out the way of Dustin’s windmilling arms.”

“Hey!”

“I’m bored of charades,” Lucas says. “We could do another competition? Like, I dunno, cartwheels or handstands or something?”

“Oh sure, so I can show you up?” Max returns, grinning.

Steve scoffs. “Uh, if you’re doing a cartwheel competition, I would win.”

“Since when?” Dustin says, an obvious taunt that Steve predictably rises to, flipping him off.

“Save your athletics for Vecna, please,” Nancy cuts in dryly.

“It wouldn’t be a fair fight.” Lucas gestures to Steve’s stomach, a little uncertainly. “You know, considering…”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Under normal circumstances, I would kick all your asses.”

“Sure,” Robin says brightly, “but Steve, if you do literally anything more strenuous than sitting down right now, I’m gonna—”

“Uh, Steve would kick your asses, actually,” Eddie says slowly. His voice is muffled from the way his hand’s holding up his chin, partly covering his mouth. “He did gymnastics.”

Robin, surprised, looks to Steve; he’s doing that thing where he scratches at his cheek unconsciously, seems to be a mixture of embarrassed and pleased.

“How’d you know that?” he asks.

Eddie shrugs. “We didn’t have a cover for gym one time, remember? There was a whole group of us slacking off but you just kept doing, y’know,” he twirls his fingers, “tricks on that box thingy.”

“Vaulting box,” Steve corrects like he can’t stop himself. He’s sporting an almost abashed little smile that Robin’s never seen before.

Eddie shrugs again. “S’all Greek to me,” he says, interrupts himself halfway through with a deep yawn.

Steve’s eyes soften. And then he’s ushering the kids outside, “C’mon, you can do whatever competition you want for thirty minutes before we get to work.”

“Got it, coach.”

“Shut up, Mayfield.”

“I’ll be your stopwatch if you’re doing handstands,” Nancy chips in, bringing up the rear—she catches Robin’s eye again, subtly tilts her head in Eddie’s direction and mouths Stay?

Robin nods.

“Uh, that won’t be accurate at all,” comes Dustin’s rebuttal—he’s outside now, but his voice still carries. “Unless you can like accurately keep time in your head down to the second—”

“Oh my god, Dustin, you’re such a shithead.”

“Nancy Wheeler, I’m heartbroken.”

Steve’s chuckle floats through the open door. “She said it, dude, not me.”

“You say it all the goddamn time!”

And then the voices fade away until all Robin can hear is distant laughs and joyful screams. It’s relaxing, in its own way.

“No gymnastics for you, Buckley?” Eddie says.

“Nope, not since 7th grade. Managed two cartwheels before I broke my wrist.”

Eddie winces in sympathy. He’s slumping a bit more; Robin makes herself comfy in the opposite corner of the backseat, gives him the most space.

She feels a weird lump at her back, behind one of the cushions. A quick investigation reveals an issue of TV Guide Magazine.

“Ooh, we can find out what we missed while on the run,” she says, waggling it in front of Eddie.

He smiles with a small huff. “Doubt it. Says 1981 on the front.”

“What’s a little more time travel?”

Robin flicks through to the crossword. She’s all too aware that Eddie’s still sat more stiffly than anything else. With Steve, it would be so easy; she could prod him in the thigh with her toe, light touches until he took the hint and relaxed.

But even before they’d really become friends, they were tactile: a tap on the shoulder to grab attention, bumping hips to move each other out of the way whenever they were scooping ice-cream at the same time. It’d been done so unconsciously, like they were already learning to read each other’s minds.

With Eddie, it’s clear that a different approach is needed.

Robin had caught onto that after her misstep at the boathouse, a pit in her stomach at the sight of Eddie’s hands shaking.

But her instinct to reach out, to soothe, made her unthinkingly try again; as they walked in the woods, she’d heard his breathing quicken, and her hand lightly brushed his back. She drew back as he instantly flinched at her touch.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said hurriedly. “Just—just checking you were okay. Sorry.”

Eddie just stared at her before nodding hesitantly.

And Robin wanted to tell him that it wasn’t by chance, that he had people who cared about him; that she did, and it wasn’t a fluke or an accident—she was choosing it.

She keeps her eyes on the magazine, jots down a few crossword answers. It reminds her of summer days spent reading on her grandparents’ porch, not wanting to startle a cat her grandpa had rescued as it approached her. It was always so spooked.

“You’ve just gotta let him come to you, sweet pea,” her grandma would say.

After a couple minutes, she hears Eddie breathe out, the creak of the seat as he lies down. He rests his head right next to her thigh.

“S’good?” he asks, pointing at the magazine.

“It’s pretty easy.” One of the crossword clues is ‘The Lion, the Witch, and the?’ which isn’t exactly taxing. “I’m used to doing the cryptic ones.”

Eddie laughs. He kinda sounds fond. “Of course you are.”

“They’re not that hard, once you know how to read ‘em.”

“Hmm, I doubt that. Lay one on me, Buckley.”

She purses her lips in thought. “Oh, I got this one last week. Condition of Wyoming, five letters.”

Eddie lifts his head ever so slightly to give her a blank look. “Not a fucking clue.”

“State. Get it? ‘Cause ‘condition’ is the definition, and Wyoming is literally—”

“God, I’m surrounded by geniuses.”

“Well, I’ve got the advantage of a summer of code-breaking.”

Robin slowly raises her hand as she speaks—makes sure to do it in Eddie’s line of vision, spots that he doesn’t pull back, that he even gives the tiniest half-nod. She pats his head twice.

Eddie scrunches up his nose. “Sorry, my hair’s gross.”

“It’s not that bad,” Robin says honestly. “Y’know for being on the run, it’s holding up pretty well. I’m getting whatever shampoo you use.”

Eddie smiles. “Sure.”

“Yours is looking way better than mine did after, like, one day getting wrapped up in all this.” Again, without really thinking, Robin adds, “I had all this sweat and blood and puke in it.”

Eddie’s eyes are closed now. He makes an unhappy sound, prods gently at her knee. “You’ve all gotta work on telling me horrific shit. That should not be casual for you, Buckley.”

He sounds emphatic—protective, even. Robin feels unexpectedly emotional.

“Yeah, sorry. Bad habit.”

Silence falls, and by the time Steve enters the RV, Robin has filled in the whole crossword, Eddie dozing by her side.

Steve’s getting another bottle of water—actually drinking it this time. He’s got grass stains on his knees, and he’s sweating slightly, like the ‘stay still’ advice hasn’t once been taken.

His eyes soften again when he sees Eddie sleeping—he doesn’t need to linger, but he does.

Robin watches.

We need more time, Steve, she thinks suddenly. For you to keep looking at him like that—for him to be awake to see it.

Steve tears his eyes away. Lands on her.

She smiles, mouthing What?

Steve rolls his eyes. He imitates her ‘what?’ mockingly, but then he smiles back and taps at his wrist, mimes winding a watch on. It’s what they do whenever they’re slammed at work, wanting to talk, but only able to briefly catch each other’s eyes in the rush. Later.

She taps her wrist. Later, she promises.

He gives her a double thumbs up—what a dork—before heading back outside.

Robin quietly puts the magazine away. Ever so carefully, she lightly strokes Eddie’s hair, feels her heart swell and break at the same time when he sighs contentedly in his sleep.

You’d better look after yourself, Eddie Munson, she thinks. You’ve got people here. People who really want you to stick around.

[llamagoddessofficial]

Bro you actually got me wanting to marry farm sans 😭 he's so out of my league though. What a man. I like that the whole community wants them to get together too, sans is one of their boys, they gotta have his back and hype him up a little!! I just know there's a monster in town who's offered to plan the wedding for sans, and old ladies love gossiping and playing matchmaker if left to their own devices

"dangit. you found my hiding place before i did."

You jumped, glancing up and over your shoulder, distracted from staring out into the dark. But you relaxed once you saw who it was.

"Ah, sorry." You didn't actually want to move. You immediately felt better for Sans being there, even despite the events that had just transpired, some of your wound-up stress leaking away. "I can go find a new place to cower from socialising,"

"nah, this is fine." Sans sat down on the step, right beside you, letting out a relaxed sigh. He held out a glass of monster champagne to you - you (obviously) accepted. "s'more than enough room for two."

He was right. The beautiful little veranda was spacious enough for a whole party of people. It just so happened that the party had retreated indoors, now that night had fallen. From your spot sat on the edge of the veranda, you could faintly see the lights of the rest of the village, the muffled murmur of the dinner party going on in the house behind you not quite enough to mask the sound of the wind rustling the grass.

You fiddled with the glass. Sans' knee was almost touching yours. He smelled warm, comforting.

"Nice party." You mumbled.

Sans leant back slightly. "yeah. dinner is always good when felinus is hosting."

"Don't tell anyone I said this, but it's much nicer than Theodore's."

"i know he's a dolphin. but still don't get why he only served seafood."

...

You looked at him, and those pretty green eyelights focused onto you.

"So... are you also running away from the matchmaking?"

Sans' smile dropped - then he let out a somewhat pained noise, leaning forward and putting his skull in his hands. You couldn't help but giggle.

"m'so sorry," he groaned. The tension in the air had eased now that you'd finally broached the subject.

"It's fine. Really." You nudged him with your elbow. "It's just old ladies having a laugh. It's probably the most entertainment they've had in a long time."

He rubbed his face. "i know, i know. i just... stars, they're so pushy. it's mortifying watchin' them corner you like that."

You recalled the slight jump of fear you'd had when a cohort of delighted elderly bunnies had seemingly materialised out of thin air in the party to determinedly tell you it was such a shame a 'delightful human like you' was single. They then heavily reiterated how single Sans was, how much he clearly liked you, and what a 'lovely young man' he was.

"They can be strong-willed. That's for sure."

Sans sat up, but seemingly couldn't look at you. "i don't want you to feel some typa way about me because of them."

"... Some way?"

"i know yer anxious to fit into the community." He picked at the fraying sleeves of his knitted blue sweatshirt. "i don't want you to feel... like you have to date me, if you want to be accepted. you can date who you want. or not date. or whatever. i dunno,"

Oh. Your heart fluttered in your chest a little. "I don't feel like that at all."

He eventually looked at you, sheepish. "you sure?"

"Yeah." You waved your hand, eager to cheer him up. "They can be a bit pushy, sure. But it's all in good fun, right? It's not like they're chasing us into a church with shotguns. The worst they've done is very obviously set us up as dance partners at the festival."

A wave of relief seemed to pass over him. "or get us walkin' opposite ways 'round the market so we'll bump into each other."

"Besides." You smiled. "If they like me enough to try to set me up with someone they know, must mean I'm 'in'. So I'm all sorted on the community infiltration front."

He softened even more, nudging your knee with his. "that's true. they love ya. they'll like ya whether or not they've harassed you into datin' me."

"Not like I'd need to be harassed into that anyway."

...

Sans seemed to realise what you'd said before you did. His eyelights, in an instant, were double their usual size

...

"... what'd you say?" He was staring at you.

...

... You could feel the heat creeping over your face, neck and ears. Your mouth had instantly glued itself shut. You didn't answer his question - you just stared at your untouched champagne glass.

...

"SANS! HUMAN!"

Both of you jumped, this time, you felt the cold champagne splash out of the glass and onto your hand as you dropped it entirely. When the two of you turned around, Papyrus seemed just as startled by your reactions as you were to him; he was stood just outside the door, car keys in his hand.

"P-Papyrus!" "bro,"

Papyrus, immediately, gave you and Sans a shifty look. But he quickly covered it up again.

"WE SHOULD HEAD OUT NOW, HUMAN, IF WE WANT TO DROP YOU HOME BEFORE MIDNIGHT."

You and Sans quickly stood, bolt upright, at the same time.

"You-"

"i'll go say goodbye to everyone. you two get the car backed out."

"Sure. Sure,"

Before you could say anything else to him, Sans had hurried past his brother, back into the house. Papyrus watched him head inside with visible confusion written across his face.

...

"... HUMAN," Papyrus glanced at you. "WHAT DID MY BROTHER SAY TO YOU?"

"Uh, I'll..." You fiddled with your hair. "I'll, m, I'll tell you in the car."

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝KISS ME BETTER, PLEASE?❞

— fluff, satoru x reader, shoko and geto cameo, typical sick satoru and reader is an enabler but he’s cute so it’s fine <3

Chicken noodle soup, apple juice, ginger tea, and a hefty amount of snacks. Besides a plethora of cuddles and kisses, you’d gotten pretty much everything that Satoru requested.

You speedwalk, borderline sprint, back to your shared apartment. Shoko and Geto agreed to take care of a very sick Satoru while you went grocery shopping for more supplies, but knowing him (and those two) he was likely annoying the hell out of them and they were probably about to strangle him dead.

Balancing bags on either arm, and one between your teeth, you flail your keychain around until the house key makes itself known, shoving it in the lock and stumbling into the living space. Before you can even announce yourself, you hear Satoru, raspy voice and all, feebly calling for help from the bedroom. It sends a protective panic through your spine, and you drop the plastic bags in the doorway before hurriedly shuffling down the hall.

“Satoru?,” you call out to him. “What is it, what’s wrong?”

Your boyfriend lets out a muffled-sounding groan as loud as his sore throat will allow. Fearing the worst, you rush towards the cracked open door of the bedroom, tossing it open and staggering inside to be met with–

“Hey, no!,” you stomp over, smacking Geto’s hand away from Satoru’s squished cheeks. “Stop that right now, Suguru!”

The man chuckles at you, Shoko huffing in mild annoyance nearby as she fiddles with a cigarette. “It was the only way to shut him up, he was bein’ all whiny and mopey while you were gone.”

Shoko reaches over to poke Satoru in the cheek, causing him to shrivel away into your awaiting arms. She giggles, but she and Geto avoid the angry gaze directed at them, fearful of your wrath.

“Don’t be mean to my Satoru while he’s sick.,” you scold and point an accusatory finger at the two. “Out, both of you.”

Geto gets up from his spot on the edge of the bed, hands tossed up in surrender. “Fine, fine.”

Satoru sticks a triumphant tongue out at them and Geto starts to throw up a middle finger before meeting the daggers of your eyes. He escorts himself out, Shoko close behind him, and Satoru snuggles deeper into your arms, red and sniffling face stuffed into your chest.

“They were so mean to me, baby, so mean!,” he pouts, even more dramatic than usual. “Hurt my feelings. Kiss me better, please?”

He blinks those woeful, puppy-dog eyes at you, and you can’t help pressing a lingering kiss to his abnormally warm forehead. Satoru grins, happy to have finally gotten the smooch he’s been craving these last few days, and the hug around your waist tightens.

“Got some snacks for you in the other room, love, lemme go grab you some.,” you coo into his bright white hair.

Satoru shakes his head, voice barely able to be made out as he smothers his face into the heat of your body again. “No, please. Stay here.” He says it less like a plea and more like a matter-of-fact statement, because he already knows you’ll stay.

You sigh against the crown of his head and caress the wild mess of white hairs between your fingers. Satoru heaves a deep, content breath, eyes fluttering close against your shirt, and his raspy inhales grow even as minutes pass. His hold on you gradually loosens, and you feel his body go limp as he presumably falls asleep in your clutches.

“Satoru…?,” you whisper.

“Don’t you go anywhere.,” he mumbles, exhausted, and you giggle. “I mean it, you.”

“Okay.,” you sigh in defeat and settle in next to him atop the covers. He clings onto you immediately like a teddy bear, limbs tangling with yours and Satoru curls up the best he can into your side. He shoves his head back into your palm, a silent plea for you to massage his scalp some more, and you entertain him without question.

“ ‘Kay, baby, goin’ to sleep.,” Satoru mutters into your neck and, amongst the the fatigue, you can hear light traces of playfulness in his voice.

“Good.,” his smile grows wider when you place another kiss on his temple. You’re sure to be sick in the next week. “Sleep well, babes.” And Satoru squeezes you a little tighter before caving in to slumber.

[astr-venus]

｡⁠☆ Who Is This Diva✦

｡⁠☆Content: Izuku Midoriya BF headcanons

｡⁠☆Cw: a few uses of she/her, one singular pregnancy mention, no use of y/n, light cursing

✦ Always writing in that damn notebook, there is nothing you can say or do that won't end up there

✦ If you're creeped out by it, he will commit what you said to memory and write it down later

✦ The best gift giver. He notices everything about you. From your face to your body to your brain. All of his gifts are thoughtful

✦ Didn't know how to do his own hair until Mina showed him, however if you know how to do it he'll play dumb

"My hair... ? Y-Yeah, Mina normally helps me with it, b-but I seen you take care of your own so... Do you mind helping me instead ? Not that Mina isn't great, b-but she isn't you... Sorry, is that a weird thing to say ?"

✦ Sometimes YOU are the third wheel when Katsuki's around. Good luck with that.

✦ Nervous forever. Constantly apologizing. Trips over everything when you're around. His face is always bright red. Nervous talker for sure. Heaven forbid you compliment him, he might pass out on the spot

✦ He stays on Uraraka's phone. He needs advice before he does anything, especially if you're a girl. He used to take advice from Kaminari, and then he learned his lesson (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

"I-It's not sexist to assume she likes flowers just cause she's a girl right ?.... What ?! Of course I know that not all girls like flowers !! .... N-No way I can't just ask her. What if she thinks I'm weird" (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

✦ Doodles you everywhere. Aizawa is fed up with the scribbled pictures of you in all the corners of his homework. He's debating whether or not he should take point off his papers just to get him to stop. Mic and All Might think it's cute

✦ All this to say he is the sweetest ever. He makes sure to know every single thing about you, it borders on obsession. He follows you around like a lost puppy. His receiving love language is physical touch/quality time, and his giving love language is gift giving and acts of service

✦ Izuku is selfless to a fault, but when it comes to you he can't help but be selfish. No matter how much he gives to you, he feels justified because your love, affection, time, and attention, is the ultimate prize.

☆ PROHERO ☆

✦ Interviewers are tired of hearing about you. Any questions lead right back to what you're doing, something you've said, what you think, what you look like. It doesn't matter as long as it's about you

✦ Puts your needs first which can be really nice, but definitely neglects himself in the process. Like this man has chronic pain in his hands, but will stay up until ungodly hours giving himself carpal tunnel making something that you didn't even ask for just bc he knew you'd like it

✦ If you're not a prohero (hell, even if you are), Izuku is overprotective. His worst fear is you being taken from him in any sense of the word. Losing you isn't something he would ever get over

✦ Rarely ever yells, but when he does he sounds just like Katsuki. It's annoying how much like Katsuki he sounds. Otherwise though, he prefers to concede to whatever you want, the only time serious arguments occur is if it's about something like your safety

"Shouto, I'm gonna throw myself off a cliff... No she's not hurt she's perfectly fine don't even joke about that !!! .... The problem ? Shou she's so mad at me.... Don't look at me like that, I'm serious !"

✦ A sass monster. Rarely ever to your face, most of the time it's just a mutter under his breath that you barely catch but you just know he said something smart.

✦ If your first language isn't Japanese then trust and believe he's learning whatever your native tongue is. He has the cutest accent too. If he's feeling bold he'll use your lessons as an excuse to flirt with you, and after that there's a high chance you won't get anything done

✦ NOT a morning person. Clings to you and the bed like his life depends on it. Moaning and groaning in your ears about how mean you are to him, how could you make him get up for early morning patrol ? Death for 10 thousand years have been cursed upon him.

"Hmm ? I don' care 'bour the alarm. Turn it off... Where you goin' ? Noooo don' go shh i's okay, mhmm it snoozes itself. Jus' lay back down, yeah 'xactly baby.... Hmm ? Late ? Patrol ? OHMYGOD PATROL !!"

✦ Pet name extraordinaire. It takes a while until he finds his favorite, so he spends his time cycling through all types of sweet names. Anything from baby to darling to pookiebear to beautiful. He probably doesn't stray too far into weird names, but he dips his toes in if it feels right.

✦ Won't admit it, but he loves it when you flaunt him to your friends. Makes him feel like a big strong man, especially when you feel up his arms. His face flushes bright red and he tries to wave it off but he stutters so much that his sentence is barely distinguishable, but of course that only makes you want to do it more

✦ When you get married it's honestly been inevitable, especially if you met while in highschool. If it was only up to Izuku you would've been married within the month, but lucky for you he has self restraint. If you both want kids they truly won't be far behind marriage, and if you thought he was obsessive before just imagine if you get pregnant.

First post,, how exciting !! Not sure if I'm sticking with this format, but I think I like it. My blog is almost completely set up and I have a few reblogs so... My askbox is open if you so please (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

Who f/w black Izuku like I do ?? 🗣️🗣️

｡⁠☆Requests open

[torturedtypewritersdept]

proclivity - part three - true blue

✯ pairing:

ex!bff!rafe cameron x diabetic!kook!fem!reader

✯ summary:

at one point in time rafe was your best friend. can summer romance erase all the damage he's done?

✯ [4.1k] warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, heartbreak, diabetes lingo, injury, ghosting, fluff and fear, domestic violence (not rafe), mean!ex!jj etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) trying out a new format with this post, hope you like it!

You didn’t want to – really you didn’t. The idea of you and Rafe being alone at a spot – your spot – a place, the place, that you hadn’t shared in close to two years was suffocating to say the least. You have continuously pressed replay on all the world’s worst scenarios; all the things that could go horribly wrong, that would surely break your heart into a million pieces all over again. Your feet feel clucky as they trudge through the sand and like the water that meets the land on the other side, you feel rushed into you; like the waves of a tsunami are crashing against the wall you’ve placed around your heart, the barriers are so close to breaking and they do as soon as you see him. He’s sitting, just past a sand dune, his shirt has been discarded and his hair is wet. 

“Hey, hot shot – you've been swimming without me?” 

You ask with a forced cheek. He only responds with his signature smirk. It was quiet, awkward for a moment. You couldn’t help but feel like you were being punked as you sat down beside him, his feet digging holes in the sand. You couldn’t remember the last time the notion of him being this close had crossed your mind or even seemed within reach. Which probed your next question to the boy sitting next to you. 

“Rafe.”

“Yeah?”

He questioned, with a smile on his face. 

“Can you tell me now?” 

You asked anxiously, ready for the blow of what you knew was coming – he was going to tell you why he left and you were sure that it was because of you after all. That’s the only thing that made sense in your brain. You watch him anxiously, intently as he shuffles, bringing his hand up to his hair to swoop his long locks out of his face and behind his ears. 

“Yeah, I guess I owe you that don’t I, pretty girl?” 

You’re on edge as you hear your old namesake leave his lips. He moves his hands behind him, leaning back into the sand. His skin feels hot against it, he notes. He swallows thickly and opens his mouth to speak. 

“You know I was different after my mom died, right?” 

You’re taken aback by his question – of course you know. She was the fucking sun and he’s just fucking like her; his cheeks and eyes – they belong to her. He belonged to her and it physically pains you to see him lose it after she’s passed away. You remember it all but mostly the way the bright left the blue hue of his eyes in the same moment the breath left her body. It makes your bones hurt to think about it still. 

“Yeah – how could I forget? I was too, we all were.” 

You said quickly. 

“I kept it well hidden then – until I couldn’t anymore, until I didn’t have a choice.” 

He’d replayed how he was going to tell you in his head over and over, over the last two years and finally came to the conclusion that he never ever would. But, now – at the prospect of having you within his reach again, he’s sure he’s going to spill his guts any moment. 

“Can you spit it out, drama queen?” 

You said with annoyance. So he blurted it out – rather frantically. 

“I was on drugs, okay!” 

He shouted. There was silence for a moment, you – too shell shocked to reply. 

“Look – I know you’re perfect and you’ve never done anything wrong in your life, okay? I’m sorry.” 

His eyes go dull as he braces himself for your judgemental glare. 

“What?” 

You ask in a too small voice. He doesn’t know what to say, so he stays quiet for a moment. 

“I was on drugs. Nobody knew. Then, I owed Barry a massive amount of money and he knew I loved you more than anyone, alright? So I had to cut ties.” 

He said very matter-of-factly. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You whispered and the ocean breeze made him suddenly cold, or maybe your tone of voice sent a chill up his spine. He’s truly not sure which. 

“What do you have to be sorry about, y/n?” 

He asked confusedly. 

“Not being enough – not being good enough for you to come to me and tell me the truth, that you didn’t feel like you could come to me.” 

The crack in your voice as you finished talking cut him straight to his core.     

“Pretty girl, it’s not like that, okay? I was trying to protect you.” 

Again, there was silence for a little while before either of you spoke. Rafe was trying to find the words; the ones to make you understand that you weren’t to blame. 

“You’re not messing with me, right?”

You asked suddenly. 

“What do you mean?” 

He questioned, confusedly. 

“I mean, you actually want to be near me again? You’re not messing with me?” 

You asked innocently, feeling far too insecure for his answer to be anything other than yes. 

“Of course, I want to be near you. I never wanted to stop being near you. It was just easier to cut everyone out than to explain my pain to someone else. I didn’t want to face all the disappointment either.” 

You swallowed thickly and he noticed. 

“I’m sorry. I always just assumed it was me, that I had done something.” 

You whispered, almost inaudibly. But, he heard you, loud and clear. 

“What? What could you possibly have done?” 

He asked incredulously. 

“I-I don’t know.” 

You looked down at your feet, afraid of what he was going to say next, not wanting this intimacy with him to become foreign and far off again. He gently lifted your chin so your eyes could meet his. 

“You never did anything wrong and this is not a game. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” 

He reassured you gently. 

“I appreciate you reassuring me, but it’s going to take a lot more than words for me to trust you again and I think you know that.” 

You replied, giving him the kindest smile you could muster up. It wasn’t your intention to be rude or mean to him, you just needed him to know where you stood. 

“I know. I’m sorry that I broke your trust, but I hope you know I’m going to spend every day trying to make things right between us.” 

“Okay, Cameron.”

You smiled nudging his shoulder. You made your way back to the parking lot with Rafe, not long after the conversation fizzled out. 

“Well, I think I’m gonna head home. This was fun.” 

You said with a sweet smile. 

“Let me drive you, I know you walked, you always walk here.”  

Rafe spoke, excitement in his voice. 

“Okay.” 

You agreed to his idea, smiling kindly his way, following him to the truck you had made your home ever since he had gotten his license. He was the first of the two of you to be able to drive and you had taken full advantage of that, waiting for him after football practices and in the early morning so he could cart you everywhere you needed to go. That was the first thing you missed when he had left you - the intimate car rides, where you experienced a version of Rafe that no one else got to. He opened the door for you, ushering you into the passenger seat and closing it once he made sure you were inside and comfortable. Making his way around to the driver’s side, he took his keys out of his pocket and climbed in, starting the truck. The engine roared, sending vibrations through your spine. It felt euphoric to be here, alone with him. Which was something you had dreamed about for so long. He pulled out of the beach parking lot, hands steady on the wheel, and began the trek to his neighborhood. Tannyhill had become your second home over the years, whether it was play dates with Rafe when you were six or trying on clothes with Sarah when you were fifteen, the Camerons were your family and you were thankful that your favorite one was seated next to you, a backward baseball cap sitting on his head and strong arms fixed on the wheel. You’d never get over the view. 

“Y/N?”

He spoke your name with a question in mind. 

“Yeah?”

You smiled in his direction. 

“Would you wanna come to dinner tomorrow at Tannyhill?”

He asked gently. 

“Sure, you know I never pass up Rose’s cooking! What’s the occasion?” 

You questioned with a giggle, it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

“Just having you back, I guess.” 

He smiled sheepishly. 

“That’s sweet, Rafe.” 

You spoke softly, the blush coating your freckled cheeks. 

“Your parents are going to be there, so I figured you could just join them and we can have a big family dinner.” 

“Why are my parents going to be there?”

You questioned, confused at his comment. 

“Uh, Ward said he and your dad are working on some big business project or something.” 

He replied, not really knowing the answer to what you were asking. He had no idea what the two men were up to. 

“Ah, okay. Sure, Rafe, I’d love to come. How fancy do I have to dress, 1-10 on the fancy scale?” 

The laugh that escaped his lungs was boisterous. You and Rafe had created the fancy scale after you got bitched out by your dad’s for not dressing appropriately for Midsummer’s in the eighth grade and ever since you always warned each other of the fancy level parties or dinners would be. 

“A solid 5.” 

He retorted a laugh ever-present on his lips. He forgot how much you made him laugh and how good it felt. He was brought out of his thoughts as he pulled into the driveway, spotting your car sitting right next to your dad’s. 

“This has been fun! I missed you.” 

You spoke softly and a smile danced across Rafe’s features. 

“I missed you too, Y/N.” 

Your eyes studied his face, looking for any inkling of deception. There were none, at least not that you could see. His eyes met yours, locking in on your face and not looking away. You swallowed thickly, unsure of what to do. Having his full attention was not something you were used to anymore. 

“Thank you, Rafe. I seriously had a really good time tonight. We will do a movie night soon.” 

“Of course, you’re still my favorite girl.” 

He smiled kindly, ushering you over to your front door, lingering for moments longer than he should have, but not wanting to let you out of your sight. 

- 

Your phone rang early the next morning and as you groaned loudly, willing whoever was making your phone ring at 7 am to die, you read the contact. It was Topper. Your sluggish fingers slowly but surely slid across the screen to see what in God’s name your best friend wanted this early. 

“H-hello?”

You grumbled. 

“Wake your ass up!” 

Topper yelled into the phone. 

“T-top. I’m about three seconds from killing you. Why are you screaming into my phone so early?” 

You questioned with annoyance. 

“Get up and get dressed. We’re outside your house.” 

He said plainly. 

“Who’s we? And for what? It’s fucking 7 am?!” 

“Don’t be grumpy, princess. We just want to spend the day with your sexy little self.” 

Kelce interjected. 

“Kelce, please shut up. I’m not awake enough for your bullshit attempts at flirting with me.” 

You grumbled with a sneer behind that phone that he couldn’t see. 

“Damn, you’re a spitfire today!” 

Topper exclaimed, laughing. 

“I was up late, okay? Jesus Christ.” 

You couldn’t believe he was being so mean to you this early in the day. 

“Okay, well get up, get dressed and pack insulin and some snacks. We’re going to be gone all day.” 

He replied. 

“Top, I can’t. I have this dinner with Rafe tonight, I can’t be gone all day.” 

You were nervous to be saying anything to Topper about it at all, he knew your history with Rafe better than anyone. But, you knew you had to tell him the truth. 

“Listen, idiot, Rafe is with us. So, come on. We’ll have you both back at Tannyhill in time for your dinner, so either pack a dress or wear one. You’re not missing this.” 

You rolled your eyes, but your heart leapt at hearing you were going to spend the day with Rafe by your side whether it was in a group setting or not. 

“Fine, I’m coming, Topper! Jesus.” 

You said, feigning annoyance. 

“Told you she’s not a morning person.”

Rafe interjected, giggling. 

You grinned to yourself, realizing you were going to get to spend an entire day and night with Rafe. Scurrying out of bed, you searched through your closet in a hurry and settled on wearing a baby blue sundress with white polka dots that Rafe got you for your birthday the summer before you started high school. He always said that baby blue was your color. You slid it on quickly, pairing it with white platform sneakers and some dainty gold jewelry. You fluffed your hair and quickly packed your insulin after changing your insulin pump site and choosing a new area of your stomach to plunge the needle into. You ran through the kitchen, grabbing a few snacks and some juice to throw in your bag. Before walking out the door to Topper’s jeep, you stopped, took a breath, and smoothed your dress and hair before stepping out of the house and opening the back passenger door, hopping in, to be met with a very tired Rafe Cameron. 

“Hey, sweet cheeks! Are you done being an asshole? I need my morning kiss.” 

Kelce gave you a sly smirk and Rafe chuckled to himself, knowing pushing your buttons this early was not a good idea. 

“Kelceo, Fuck off!” 

You exclaimed with a growl, letting him know you weren’t in the mood. 

“Fine, I’ll chill. Can you blame me? Look at that dress.” 

He continued his train of putting his foot in his mouth. 

“Kelce, cool it, man.” 

Rafe spoke, his tone laced with warning. His protective nature made you smile. 

“So, what’s so important that you drug me out of bed at 7 am on a Saturday?” 

You questioned Topper. 

“My mom set us up on a tour of UNC like months ago and I forgot to tell you until this morning.” 

He replied nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t absolutely unhinged to let you know the morning of – in a way that only Topper knows how. 

“Topper, I’m going to kill you.” 

You muttered. You truly couldn’t think of a better way to spend a Saturday, your three favorite boys, and a four-hour-long road trip. Truthfully, what could go wrong? 

You were brought out of your thoughts by Rafe’s hand touching your elbow. 

“Y/N?”

He was saying your name in question again. 

“Sorry, I was zoned out. What’s up?” 

You asked. 

“Have you eaten yet?” 

He asked in a gentle, hushed tone not wanting to draw everyone's attention to the two of you. 

“No.” 

You replied just as quietly. 

“Go ahead and eat, okay? I read that being up on your feet all day can be hard on your body.” 

You were shell shocked for just a second – he cared enough to read about what your life is like?

“You’ve been reading about diabetes?”

You questioned. 

“Of course I have, you’re my favorite girl.” 

He said it again. 

“Thanks, Rafe. That’s so sweet.” 

He smiled in response and watched as you took the banana out of your bag and began to eat it. When you finished, Topper was pulling into a gas station and asked you to come in with him to pick out some snacks while Rafe and Kelce pumped gas. As you made your way inside, rummaging through the aisles of various snacks, Topper began the inevitable best friend questioning that you knew was bound to happen eventually. 

“So, you and Cameron, huh?”

He teased, knowing your history of being in love with him since you were six. 

“I don’t think he feels that way. I’m just happy to have him back.” 

You gave Topper a kind smile. 

“So, what happened? I mean was there a conversation? Did he at least apologize?” 

“Yeah, Top. He did.” 

You said, matter-of-factly. 

“Y/N, if you don’t tell me everything right now, I’m going to fucking combust.” 

He said with urgency as he giggled. 

“Okay, okay. Jesus! So, we met up at our spot the day after the party and he told me the truth. I have a feeling that it’s not all of it, but he seemed genuine and i’m assuming it’ll all come out in layers over time.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

He questioned with curiosity. 

“Because it seemed like there was more to the story, more to tell. I got a very shrunken down version.” 

You replied.

“Well, if you need me to beat his ass I will. You just let me know.” 

He spoke with a devilish smirk that you knew meant he was both serious and joking. 

“Thanks, Top.” 

You laughed. 

“Of course, you know I always have your back.” 

He replied, snaking an arm around your shoulders. 

“Anyways, so we talked about the drugs and why he felt like he couldn’t talk to me, and then he told me he was sorry and he wanted to be friends again. He drove me home and asked me to come to dinner tonight at Tannyhill. I said, yes, so here we are. Oh, and I told him about me being sick at the party-”

“You did what?!” 

You were cut off with an incredulous question and raised eyebrows from Topper. 

“Yeah, I told him a little about getting sick when we ended things and he didn’t even run like I thought he would.” 

You said with a soft, sweet smile. Topper couldn’t remember the last time he had seen you smile like that. 

“I told you he wouldn’t. He loves you.” 

He replied easily, the truth of the words flew out of his mouth so effortlessly. 

“Yeah, we’ll see. I’m not 100% on board yet. I don’t want to get my hopes up and then he runs away again.” 

Topper shrugged, he couldn’t disagree with your reservations after the last couple years you’d had. You’d been through so much. All he wanted was to see you happy and he knew if the timing was right Rafe would treat you so well. He’d truly changed. 

“That’s understandable and valid. Just don’t write him off yet. He might surprise you.” 

He said with an easy smile. 

“Thanks, Top.” 

The two of you shared a hug after exiting the convenience store, with snacks in hand. As you made your way back to the jeep, Rafe admired your form, watching the wind raking through the skirt of your dress. 

“Welcome back, pretty girl. Are you ready for our morning kiss, yet?” 

Kelce asked again, sweetly this time. He was starting to get on your nerves. 

“Kelceo, cool it.” 

Topper stated, climbing into the driver's seat. Kelce was annoying everyone today, kidding or not. 

You climbed into the backseat again, plopping down next to Rafe. His sparkling blue eyes took in your smiling form as you tore into a bag of popcorn. 

“How are you feeling, sweet girl?” 

Rafe questioned, studying your form with his piercing blue eyes. Sweet girl. You hadn’t heard that in a long time and it felt warm against your ears.

“I’m feeling pretty good right now. But, my sugar is low.” 

You smiled in his direction. 

“How do you know it’s low?” 

He asked with genuine curiosity. 

“I have this app on my phone, see.” 

You turned your phone screen around, which displayed your glucose monitor’s readings. Your blood sugar was low, reading 76 mg/dL. Which was not low enough to warrant panic, but also not high enough to be considered normal.  

“So, if 76 is low, what’s considered normal?” 

Rafe probed in a genuinely curious fashion.

“Generally, the goal is to keep the daytime blood sugar levels before meals between 80 and 130 mg. But, after-meal numbers are a little bit higher but shouldn’t be more than 180 mg.” 

You explained simply. 

“Oh, okay. That makes sense. Will you tell me if you start to feel bad?” 

He questioned. It made you smile that you seemed to be falling back into your rhythm so easily. 

“I won’t have to. You’ll know. But, I promise I will.” 

You gave him a reassuring smile and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. The touch, though short-lived, was electric and you wondered if he felt it too. The music topper was playing lulled you to sleep all of thirty minutes into the road trip and you were beginning to stir as soon as he pulled into the UNC visitor’s parking lot.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” 

Rafe ran his fingers through your hair, scratching it in a circular motion. Your favorite way to wake up. When you opened your eyes, you jolted up, embarrassed, realizing your head was on Rafe’s shoulder and drool was pooling at the corner of your mouth, dripping onto the gray t-shirt he was wearing. You turned your head towards him with apologetic eyes as you took in his face, the sweet disposition oozing out of him, as his eyes smiled at you before his mouth did. 

“I’m sorry I drooled on you.”

You spoke sheepishly. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Not the first time, definitely won’t be the last.” 

He chuckled, giving you his classic Rafe Cameron smile before getting out of Topper’s jeep and making his way to the passenger side to open yours for you. As you began to climb out of the car, he picked up your bag, carrying it for you. 

“Thanks, Rafe. You don’t have to carry it, though.”

You said, beaming up at him. 

“You look so pretty today, I think I’d do anything you asked of me.” 

He blurted out without thinking and your eyes went wide as your cheeks filled with a blush. 

“You are so sweet, Rafe. Thank you.” 

He nodded and smiled your way, yet again. 

“I’ll carry it. It will make me feel better if you have a glucose emergency if I know where it is.” 

He stated, matter-of-factly, as he placed the brown leather backpack on his shoulder. His words created a flutter in your stomach. 

“Okay, losers! Come on, we gotta check-in at the visitor’s center.” 

Topper remarked. You and Rafe began following him and Kelce to the front of the building. Topper quickly went inside and left the three of you waiting on the steps as he went to collect your program information, campus maps, and name tags. When he came back out of the door, he handed each of you your designated packets of information and began explaining what the game plan was. 

“Okay, so in each of these packets is information specific to your major. Y/N and Rafe, you’re in a group and then me and Kelce are in a group because our majors and buildings are on the same sides of campus. Go through the packet, it’s got a scavenger hunt and then instructions for meeting the bigger tour group after lunch. We will see you guys then.” 

He finished what he was saying and Rafe was already moving, ready to get away from Topper and Kelce and celebrate his alone time with you. 

“Okay, sounds good.” 

Rafe spoke, taking the packet of information from Topper’s hands, and turning to you with a smile. 

“You ready?” 

He questioned with a smile. 

“As I'll ever be, lead the way, Cameron.” 

You gestured to the sidewalk in front of you, beaming up at his tall form, opting to go the opposite direction of Kelce and Topper. 

Topper and Kelce quickly scurried off, putting you and Rafe alone again, finally. You love the other two stooges with every fiber of your being, but you’d always loved Rafe more. If soulmates were a thing, he was yours in a platonic way of course, because there’s no way he felt about you the way you felt about him. You were okay with that. Rafe in any way, shape, or form was enough for you, as long as you had him in some way, you’d be okay. As Rafe began talking to you, you were brought out of your daydream. 

“So, what do you want to hit first, the football field?” 

He asked sarcasm present in his tone, though playful and innocent. 

“Sure, if you’re gonna be playing here, we should check it out first.” 

You gave him a small smile. 

“Are you thinking about coming here in all seriousness?” 

“Yeah, I was offered a full scholarship for cheer and academics pending my final grades next year.” 

“What?! That’s amazing, Y/N!” 

“Thanks, Rafe. I wish my brother thought so.” 

“What do you mean? Hasn’t he wanted you to go to UNC like forever?” 

He asked, confusion ever-present in his voice. 

“I mean, yeah. He’s just been different ever since I got sick.” 

“What do you mean?”

He questioned. 

“It’s like most of the time, I’m a bug he’s trying to swat away.” 

You replied with nonchalance, though Rafe could register the pain in your voice. 

“Maybe he just worries about you?” 

He asked, suggestively. 

“Maybe. I don’t know. You’ll see tonight what I mean.” 

You muttered. 

“Well if it makes you feel any better, we’ll be here together. At UNC, I mean.” 

He said with a sweet smile. 

“Really?!” 

The joy that riddled your face made Rafe smile. 

“Yeah, I’ve got some scouts coming to see me play in the fall and I’m excited. UNC is my dream school, though. So even if I have to be a walk-on or not play at all, I’ll still be coming here. They’ve already given me a scholarship.” 

“As they should, Mr. Valedictorian.” 

You smiled brightly at him. 

“Hey, how do you know I’m valedictorian?!” 

He chuckled but was surprised. He had never talked to anyone about his class standing. 

“Well, I did some digging after realizing I was second in our class, and to my surprise, my favorite Cameron was the one that beat me out.” 

You gave him a sly smile. 

“Since when am I your favorite Cameron?” 

He asked jokingly, though the notion made his heart soar. 

“Since always.” 

“Oh, come on! You and Sarah have been thick as thieves for the last two years.” 

“Maybe. Sarah’s always been a good friend to me. Topper and Kelce too. But, you’ve always been number one in my heart, I hope you know that.” 

The kindness exuded from your eyes. You meant every word. 

“You’re something else, you know that.” 

He chuckled, but you suddenly felt like you had said the wrong thing, swallowing thickly. He observed your form, realizing where your mind had gone. 

“No, no, I mean that in a good way. There’s just no one like you. You’ve always been just so perfect. It’s hard to measure up.” 

“It’s a facade, trust me.” 

You spoke, rolling your eyes at the notion that anything that had anything to do with you was in the same category as perfect. You were brought out of your thoughts as the two of you made your way to the entrance of the football field, following other students into the gates. Rafe looked on in awe at what would be his stomping grounds in just a few short years, his eyes sparkled as he daydreamed about the baby blue uniform he’d get to wear with his name and number sewn into the back. He’d get to matter here. He’d get to be somebody other than Ward Cameron’s son. He’d hope to make you his girl, here. But, quickly pushed that thought down as you began speaking to him. 

“What? Are you imagining all of your fans screaming your name? All the girls throwing themselves at you?”

You chuckled. 

“Nope. Just one.” 

“Shutup! Who is it, Cameron? You have to tell me!” 

“You’ll know soon enough, you know how bad I am with secrets.” 

You giggled and its music to his ears. 

“Boy do I! Remember that time in second grade when we brought that puppy to my house from the street and we were only able to hide it from my mom for three hours before you blabbered?!” 

“Not my best secret-keeping moment.”

He chuckled, remembering that day with you. Your soft curls that too often fell on your face and the look of pure fear in your eyes when your mom found out about the puppy. 

“That was a good day.” 

You spoke softly. 

“Yeah, it was.” 

The two of you stood side by side, Rafe’s shoulders towering over you, as you both looked onto the field that would be your home for four years. Excitement stirred in your gut at the chance to get out of the Outer Banks, out of Kildare fucking county with your best friends in the entire world and you simply, couldn’t wait. You hoped the next two years would fly by so you could get out of your hometown, finally fall in love, and forget that Kooks and Pogues even existed. 

“Okay, Cameron. Let’s go check out the buildings where our classes will be.” 

“Sounds good, pretty girl.” 

He smiled at you and placed his hand on the small of your back as he led you out of the stadium and back to the quad. Once you made it away from the large crowd inhabiting the stadium, you probed Rafe with another question. 

“So, what are you majoring in, big guy?” 

“I haven’t fully decided. Dad wants me to be a business and marketing major, but I am really into the idea of English lit. What about you?” 

“I’m English Literature with a concentration in creative writing and a minor in entrepreneurship.” 

“Nice! What do you want to do with that?” 

He probed, curious about your career path. 

“I’m not sure, yet. Maybe teach English or become a writer. All I know is that writing and reading makes me feel alive and I’d like to chase that high as long as I can.” 

“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.”

You instantly recognized the words he was stringing together into a sentence. 

“Rafe Cameron, are you quoting Dead Poets Society to me?” 

You smiled so widely at him. This version of Rafe was different. It was one you had seen glimpses of over the years, but this one, he was your person. You were sure of it. 

“Don’t all the guys you talk to do that?” 

“What? Do you mean the ever-so-educated JJ Maybank who cares about feelings and reading? Yeah, no. I can’t say that they do.” 

You scoffed into a laugh at Rafe’s joke slash question. 

“Okay, that’s fair.” 

He said, letting out a boisterous belly laugh. 

“Let’s go look at the Business Administration building first.” 

You suggested and Rafe agreed with your idea. Since you both would have classes in both buildings, it truly didn’t matter which you explored first. As you made your way to the building across the quad, your phone started dinging. Your stupid blood sugar, ruining things again. 

“What’s that noise?” 

Rafe questioned. 

“It’s my glucose monitor on my phone. It’s low again.” 

You looked on at him, defeated. He gently lifted your bag off of his shoulders and took your phone out and looked down at the readings. 76 mg, way too low for his comfort and probably for yours too. 

“It’s 76 mg, Y/N. What do I need to do?” 

“Look for anything in my bag with carbs and I'll check again in 15 minutes.” 

You reply without the urgency that Rafe is feeling. 

“Okay, let’s sit down for the time being. You don’t look like you feel great.” 

He motioned to the bench, just off the sidewalk, close to the arboretum. He knew you wanted to see it before you left campus today, so this was the perfect spot. 

“I’m okay, just sluggish. I thought I was just tired from last night.” 

You let Rafe lead you to sit, his hand on the small of your back. You took his hand as he motioned you down onto the bench and he felt you shaking. Rafe looked through the bag, examining its contents, quickly. 

“Okay, there’s bread and a banana. Which is better?” 

“Give me the bread. It’s this banana nut bread I make every week.” 

“You amaze me you know that?” 

He gave you a soft smile and unwrapped the bread from the Ziploc bag it sat in, handing it to you. 

“Thank you, Rafe, really, it means the world to have you here and to have your help.” 

“Anything for you, I mean that. Are you thirsty?” 

“Yeah, there’s water in there, too.” 

He nodded, reaching back into the bag to retrieve the water bottle and handing it to you. 

“After we get your levels back up, let’s go into the arboretum, and then we will grab some lunch.” 

“Sure, thanks, Rafe. I love the Arboretum here, it’s so beautiful!” 

“Yeah, I know. You’ve only been talking about visiting it since we were ten.” 

“You remember that?” 

“I remember everything you tell me.” 

You blushed at his confession. You sat there, just chatting back and forth for the fifteen minutes it took for the food to settle before you checked your blood sugar again. Rafe pulled your phone back out of your bag and looked at the screen. 100 mg. We’re back in business baby!

“88 mg, back to normal, pretty girl.” 

He spoke, blush coating your cheeks and you watched the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile. 

“Thanks, Rafe. You’ve been so good about all of this. It scares most people.” 

You thank him sheepishly. 

“I’m not most people, you know that.” 

He stood up from the bench, placing your backpack on his shoulders once more, and gently took your hand in his, lifting you to your feet. He led you to the sidewalk and you began your trek to the arboretum, his hand on the small of your back once again. You tried not to read too much into his hands constantly being close to you, you and Rafe had always had an intimate relationship that was very hands-on. As you made your way toward the greenhouse, you felt a raindrop hit your nose and before your brain could process what your orbs had just taken in, the bottom of the sky fell out and rain poured from the sky. The same way your eyes leaked when you and Rafe had stopped speaking. As the rain-drenched your clothes, you and Rafe shared a mischievous look, before he grabbed your hand and you both took off running toward your destination. It seemed like you had been running forever when you made it inside the doors of the greenhouse. Once you finally shook the water off of your bodies, reminiscent of a wet dog shaking his fur violently, you had a minute to take Rafe in. The light from the lightning lit up his drenched features. He took his baseball cap off, shaking it out and ringing out the water from his shirt. As he turned to look at you, you moved into him, eyes locking with his, his tall muscular form standing over you. You’re not sure what’s come over you, maybe it’s the care he’s shown you or how different he is now. But, you couldn’t take too much time to process what you were feeling or what you were thinking. The next few moments felt like a scene from a movie, as you placed your hands on his cheeks and kissed his lips, deeply, a moan escaping your lips. He was quick to pull away, bewilderment in his eyes. 

“I-I’m sorry, Rafe. I read the signals wrong.” 

“I’m not sorry because you didn’t misread anything.” 

And just like that, Rafe Cameron was kissing you, gently, deeply, madly, clothes drenched in rainwater and with ecstasy-filled eyes. Rafe Goddamn Cameron was kissing you and you fucking loved it. 

taglist:

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt

[emotionallyattachednerd]

Confessions | Knightverse Bumblebee x GN!human reader | SFW

Word count: 1800+

Warnings: None. Just a first kiss. ( for once there is no smut 😅 )

Notes: This is a art trade for @bi-polar-geminii. Loved trying out something different with Bumblebee and my writing style. Hope you enjoy. ❤️

☕ Coffee

Bumblebee enjoyed spending time with you whenever possible. You always made him feel special, and he returned the same by making you feel just the same. He understood you were very different, species wise, but that doesn’t stop his feelings from growing more fondly about you every passing day. The urge to confess keeps creeping, about to burst out at any moment, but he holds it all in fearing you’ll reject him, and so he continues to be your friend.

What he doesn’t know is that you feel the very same about him, but keep it all sealed up, despite just how much it’s bothering you. It feels like an itch you can’t reach and it’s growing more intense the more you spend time with him. You do ask yourself the worst that could happen and the worst scenarios always run through your head, over and over again it happens, and this is what holds you back. Its torture, and you’re unsure just how much longer you can hold it in.

On one of Bumblebee’s days off he drives you to one of your favourite spots to hang out together, someplace quiet, where it’s only just you two and mother nature surrounding. The drive is always nice and he places your favourite music, listening to you sing along with your hand out the rolled down window against the wind. The sound of your voice is a beautiful melody to Bumblebee’s audios, and he would love to sing along with you, but since he lost his voice all he can do is play whatever music you wanted. You’re happy, and that’s all that mattered to him.

Once you arrive, Bumblebee carries you across the thicket towards the river bank, settling you down once in the clear and you both take in your surroundings and nature's music. It’s beautifully relaxing. You breathe in deeply and let out a satisfied exhale while setting the sun observe into your skin. Bumblebee mimics this, just to be a part of your relaxation.

“Feel that sun, breathe in that fresh air, hear nature's music, this is the kind of life to live.” You say wearing a fond smile. “If only this was right in my backyard, it would be parricide.”

"Is that something you would like? Why not change your life to have this?" He asked through his radio over a few channels.

“Oh, as much as I would like to, I have work and friends I don’t want to leave. Sometimes that’s the way of life, but I have no regrets. What I already have is something that is irreplaceable, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” That’s the truth you speak as you offer him a sweet smile.

Bumblebee listens closely, enticed by your speech. You were such a wonderful human being that saw so much beauty in everything, so caring, beautiful. Finding the right channel through his radio, he goes to speak, to confess something that's been nagging in his helm.

"You're perfect, kind, and you-"

“Oh Bee, look over there.” You didn’t mean to cut him off but you notice something in the water struggling to swim. It’s a tiny Bumblebee, who had made an unfortunate mistake and got themselves submerged in the water. Without hesitation you take your shoes off and enter the shallow bank, gently using your hands you scoop it up, saving its life. There is little care about your clothes getting wet or dirty, all that mattered to you was the poor little guy.

Bumblebee watches this happen and tilts his head curiously at the small creature sitting in your hands, tired from the struggle, but resting calmly as they try to get themselves dry and regain their energy. He’s seen cruelness in the universe, even earth. Such a creature wasn’t always looked out for and so are forced to take care of themselves without help, and in this creature's final moments near death, they are saved by the most kind hearted human this universe didn’t deserve. Bugs die all the time, every day, but this bug won’t be one of them today.                 

“Poor thing.” You coo calmly at it, bringing your hand closer to your face. “Don’t worry little guy, you’re safe now. You can rest there for as long as you need.” Looking back at Bumblebee you give an innocent smile. “I know it might seem strange talking to a bug, but I believe all living things can understand us somehow, even though we can’t understand them, but there’s a connection and it's up to us to find it, to make that connection work. They need help sometimes and it's up to us to offer that help, it’s a choice. There’s beauty in this world and these little guys have a big part in it, pollinating the world and bringing life everywhere.” You explain to him, all the while you watch the fuzzy bumblebee in your hand with a smile. “Thank you, little one.”

Bumblebee tilts his helm curiously. “Why…appreciation?”

“Well, like I said, they help keep our world thriving, and without them our world wouldn’t be anything beautiful like it is. Like you and the autoboots, you’re here to protect earth and humans from decepticons. Without you, our world would be destroyed.”

Then, Bumblebee feels a heavy emotion, a dread. "We failed our world. Protecting yours is our priority. I don't want to fail you."

Tilting your head up, you listen to what he says to you, curious by the tone you picked up on. "I believe in you, Bee. You could never disappoint me. Sorry, I think I cut you off before. What were you going to say?"

Now it's Bumblebee's turn to hesitate, a shy little child worried about the outcome of what he truly wanted to say to you. Humming buzzing sound from him, before he finally confesses through his radio. "You complete me."

His words make your heart skip a beat. "I...I complete you? What do you mean by that?" You need to make sure, to dig deeper, find the source of what he just said to you.

Bumblebee stares at the crawling bee on her hand, desperately trying to clean and dry itself. He knows there's no backing out of it, and answers without looking at her.

"When you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." A famous quote he found, and the only one he seemed to find and fit in the situation he brought himself in.

The confession truly takes your breath away, a warmth floods through your entire body, causing goosebumps to rush through your skin and tickling your tiny hairs. Still, as beautiful as his quote was, you needed more clarification, just to be sure.

"Bee, do you love me?" As forward as it sounded, it's all you could think of in the moment, to put it out there. Your eyes are fixed on him as you await his answer.

Through his sudden shyness, he tilts his helm at you and manages to give a simple nod, right before tearing his gaze away back onto the bug you continue to hold. It's something you've only dreamed about, a love confession from your favourite yellow bug, from Bumblebee.

Stepping closer you touch his surprisingly warm plating at his servo, gaining his attention, watching as his baby blue optics shift directly onto you, looking like a frightened child that tugs at your heart. There was no need to question further as to why he didn't say anything before, because you had also done it, keeping your feelings all bottled up. Both of you were worried about the outcome, but now it's all happening, and there is only one thing to do that struck your mind.

"Kiss me."

For a split second Bumblebee is confused before his optics glow brightly, happiness blooming through him hearing these words. Slowly he leans forward, his helm tilts, and you meet with him before sealing your soft lips over the grill of his mouth guard. It might not seem like it but you feel him kissing you back, gently pressing as you let the kiss linger for as long as possible. There's a concoction of emotions, your racing heart beats quickly, a bundle of nerves tightens at your chest, and a flood of happiness bursts through your whole body. The moment leaves you giggling silently on the inside, a love and affection latching onto the moment with what feels like butterflies fluttering around your stomach.

When the kiss is finally broken all you both can do is stare at one another closely, fond eyes and optics holding together before your beaming smile grows more. "Oh Bee, you've got a bee on you."

That he does. In the moment the tiny bee had crawled from her hand and onto his face, still crawling around but looking better than before. He doesn't mind, in fact he enjoys having the tiny bug on him, thinking it as a trust bond just like the bug had for you.

Your hand rests against his cheek plating, fingers gently soothing while he leans into your touch, humming in delight as the weight is lifted so quickly from the both of you, all worries and nerves no longer lingering.

"We're both a little silly." You hear yourself say. "But maybe that's what makes us perfect together. I want so much for us. You're not only my friend, but the one I've grown to love so much. Is this what you want, for something more between us?"

Bumblebee nods eagerly before looking up around, noticing the sun setting and the moon lightly appearing under the pink bubble gum sky and speaks through a channel of his radio. "What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey, that's a pretty good idea. I'll give you the moon."

Letting out a pleasant giggle you hold your hand over across his servo. "As lovely as that sounds I don't think mother nature would appreciate that. I want you. I want our fairy tale, that's all I need."

Bumblebee lets out another low hum before moving his servo up to his face to allow the tiny bee to crawl onto his digit and bring it back down between you both. Finally, the bee had enough strength, twitching its fuzzy body and taking flight, flying around them both as if it was trying to thank them, before flying away and back to its colony through the vibrant trees.

It was a beautiful moment, one neither of you will ever forget. Turning to Bumblebee again, you kiss his cheek plating and beam brightly. "Can we stay a little longer? Maybe we could cuddle?"

He's more than happy to do that. "Happily ever after."

[98onlyboo]

treat you better - k.mg

genre:fluff (kinda);wc: 1.6k ;⚠️: mentions of cheating

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

Ever since you were little, you and Mingyu have been inseparable. Knowing each other since you were in diapers, you've been the best of friends for the past 27 years.

Even when Mingyu joined Seventeen he stayed in contact with you and tried as best as he could to maintain his relationship with you. His worst fear was losing you, so he did everything in his power not to do that.

Everything went downhill after you started dating Brian. Brian was an old classmate of Mingyu and somehow you didn't know him yet so he thought it'd be a good idea to introduce you to eachother.

After that you guys started hanging out, texting all the time and eventually he asked you out. Mingyu reacted a bit bitter towards this whole ordeal with Brian and you, but you brushed it off, thinking he was just a bit protective over you.

Time has passed and you and Brian were still going strong together. Mingyu on the other hand felt miserable. He never got the chance to confess his love for you. He never got the chance to take you on actual dates and he never got the chance to feel your sweet lips on his. But there was no way he would let you know that.

One day the three of you were hanging out at Brian's house. You watched the guys play video games until Brian got a call. "Here Ba-" you said when you reached for his phone to give it to him. Your words were cut short when he ripped his phone out of your grasp and looked frantically at the screen.

"I have to take this one sorry" he excused himself and ran into a different room. "Maybe he's hiding something" Mingyu said, as if he could read your mind that is full of questions and also some conclusions right now. "Why would he??" you asked, kinda annoyed that he would suspect your boyfriend of such suspicious activities.

"I'm just saying. You never know" he said and threw his hands up. You scoffed and waited for Brian to come back. "Sorry this was really important" Brian said as he came back. "Really? What was it?" Mingyu asked smirking at him. "Uhm..." he hesitated, "nothing just a friend needing help with something." But Mingyu didn't believe a word he said.

He knew very well what he was up to. And he's going to make you see it too.

Some days after all of this Mingyu asked you to hangout and you obviously said yes. After he picked you up you guys went to the beach, a usual hang out spot for the two of you. You started walking along the shore just talking. "You know..." Mingyu started, "I don't think Brian is playing with open cards."

Confused your gaze shifted from the water to his eyes. "What do you mean?" you asked. "I think he is hiding something from you. Didn't you notice how all of a sudden he got super protective of his phone and belongings in general? It's either he's planing a suprise for you or he's doing something you know...else" he said as he stopped walking.

You stood there even more confused than before. You thought about it for a minute and you infact did notice his change, you just didn't think anything of it. "And I'm pretty sure he would've let me into the suprise if it really was that...But you know, that's just my opinion and maybe I'm seeing things wrong" he said looking out into the sea.

You didn't know what to say so you just started walking again. The whole way back home was silent. "Thank you for hanging out and telling me...that.."

you said and hugged him. "Don't worry, I just don't want you to get hurt" he said smiling at you. You got out of the car and waved him before he drive off.

After getting ready for bed you decided to call your boyfriend. "Hey Babe!!" you heard from the other end. "Hi Babe, how are you?" you asked. "I'm good thank you, helped my friend move some furniture today. How about you??" he asked. "I'm fine too, just really tired. I met up with Mingyu today" you said. "That's cool!! Look it's late, how about you go and get some sleep?" he suggested. You agreed and said your goodbyes.

Shortly after that you went to sleep. In the morning you woke up to your doorbell ringing and a loud banging on your door. "What the fuck is happening" you cursed to yourself walking up to the door to see who's causing all that noise. You open the door and see Mingyu, looking like he just ran a marathon. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" you asked him.

"You have to listen to me!!" he said panting. You let him in and gave him some water. You didn't notice him carrying a bag with him. He sat down on the couch and emptied the bag. There were a lot pictures. "What's that?" You asked looking at him weirdly. "Proof. The proof that Brian is cheating on you." he said.

You looked at all pictures and all of them had Brian with different women, either kissing them or holding their hand. "These have to be old pictures. He was really busy the past few days. He didn't even have much time for me so why would he have time for other women?" you said, not believing a single thing. "No no, you don't understand __. I may have hired a private investigator to look after Brian since I had my suspicions... These are all the pictures and infos he gave me" Mingyu said, pulling something else out of his bag.

It was a list. A list with exact time stamps and things Brian did. Nothing you read on that list lined up with what he told you. Was he really cheating on you? You couldn't believe it. "If you don't believe me, why don't we pull up to his house and ask him?" he asked. "Maybe we should do that" you said. You still hoped that all of this was just some kind of sick joke but somehow these pictures and the list made you overthink your relationship.

Mingyu parked a bit further away so Brian wouldn't see you guys and so you went up to his house. You got in with the key he gave you, just like he had a second key for your apartment. All the lights were turned off and it was silent. Except for the music coming out of the bedroom. You anxiously looked at Mingyu, who grabbed your hand and slowly dragged you towards the bedroom.

The nearer you got the louder everything became. You could hear Brian but also another woman. Was he really doing this right now? Mingyu swung the door open and the sight made you sick to your stomach. There he was, your beloved boyfriend buried deep in another girl. You couldn't say anything, it's like time was frozen. "Look __ I can explain! It's not w-" "Stop it. I don't want to hear it. We're done Brian." you said sternly. You turned around and left the apartment.

Mingyu followed you outside, hugging you the moment you shut the door. You broke down in his arms. "I'm sorry for not believing you sooner" you sobbed into his chest. He played with your hair, trying to calm you down. After you somewhat stopped sobbing you got into his car and went home.

He parked his car infront of your house and took your hand in his. "I hope you know that no matter what, I will always be there for you. Please come to me with your problems, you shouldn't deal with them all alone" he said while looking into your eyes. You squezzed his hand and told him how grateful you are to have him. After some silence you decide to speak again. "I'm sorry if this sounds weird, but I don't think I want to be alone right now... Would you mind spending the night?" you asked. You could see his eyes light up for a moment, immediately agreeing.

You guys got ready for bed as usual. You wore your pyjama while Mingyu just wore some shorts he had left at your house. You got into bed and turned around waiting for Mingyu to pop in next to you. Somehow nothing happened so you turned to look and you saw Mingyu just standing there awkwardly. "What are you doing?" you asked him. "Uhm..I didn't know if you'd be comfortable sharing a bed with me" he said scratching the back of his head. "Of course I am, get in" you said and patted the empty spot next to you.

He hopped in and got under the covers. "Good night __" he said while getting comfortable. "Good night Mingyu" you said and went to sleep. Mingyu didn't. He couldn't help but feel so bad for you. He knows how much you loved Brian and how much it hurt to find out the truth. He looked at your small frame sleeping soundly next to him. Not knowing what got into him, he put his arm around you and pulled you close. All he wanted was to keep you safe.

He relaxed and started smiling when he felt you cuddle up to him. He never wanted this to end. Now he realised that maybe he loved you even more than he thought he did. This was something he wanted to experience every night from now on. Softly he started stroking your head while whispering sweet nothings to you.

"You know, I could treat you so much better than him..."

[major-toast]

Wolfstar Microfic - Hellbent

@wolfstarkinktober2024 // day 31: hate sex // 2121 words // mdni

Yes, I know. This one ended up a tad too long. But I don't want to upload anything that is under 4k words to ao3. My weird mind simply works that way. Nonetheless, I'm sure as hell not missing out on a opportunity to post some casual hate sex microfic. Also, don't mind me reuploading this. There was an editing error. My apologies xx

SHORT DISCLAIMER (before anyone comes for my ass): This is part of toxic wolfstar™. The entire purpose of these characters is to be the worst possible versions of themselves. I'd never write either of them the way they are presented here unless it is explicitly in the context of toxic wolfstar™. Furthermore, I do not condone any of these actions. This is for entertainment purposes only.

Remus is on a rampage. Boiling, seething, and ready to tear everything to shreds. All it needs to do is stand in his way. With the paper a pathetic crumple inside his clenched fist, he is working his jaw, burning holes into everyone crossing his path. It’s enough to scare the desk lady into letting him pass with a simple raise of his ID. The elevator ride feels like torture with every passing second.

Two fast strides – more it doesn’t take for him to reach the door with the shining letters ‘659’. Not even hesitating, he starts banging against the polished wood; demanding, hungry.

Remus Lupin is on a mission and he is not ready to back down.

“Jesus fucking Christ. I already told you-“

The words get stuck inside Sirius’ throat as he realises who is standing before him. Remus almost breaks out in triumphant laughter as he sees the unfiltered shock and confusion flashing in those sparkling silver diamonds. But, as of now, he is not in the mood for laughter. No, Sirius made sure of that. He and his gorgeous hair, devilish smile and soft, smooth skin that Remus wants to sink his fucking teeth in.

“Did not expect me, did you?” he growls, only gripping the paper tighter until his veins start to budge. With great satisfaction, he witnesses Sirius grow a little paler. His eyes wander down to Remus’ hands and up again. He swallows.

“How did you get in here? What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing? Get out before I start calling security.”

Surprisingly, there is still the ever-present defiance inside Sirius’ tone, calm and stubborn. It only riles Remus up more.

“Oh, you’d love to know, wouldn’t you?” Remus taunts, lodging his foot between the door and frame as Sirius tries to slam it shut in front of his face. Using bare strength alone, he wrenches the entrance open wide enough to slip in. Immediately, Sirius takes a couple of steps back, only growing paler with fear.

How beautiful he is. Messy black hair is falling down his back and into his eyes, which are a beacon of silver adorning this oh-so-delicate face. Rosy, parted lips are scrambling for words and Remus would have loved to watch them move for all eternity, making all those angelic noises, if he hadn’t been so caught up on the robe draped over Sirius’ exquisite frame, tied sacrilegiously at the waist, and highlighting his sharp hip bones.

It’s a lovely shade of red, deep and velvet, like pomegranates in the Middle Eastern sun. The thin fabric reveals enough to spark even the wildest imaginations, yet not enough to keep one satisfied.

Soon enough, Remus will rip that fabric off with his teeth. Oh, he is sure. But not now. Now, he is still too angry.

“What do you think you’re playing at, huh?” he snarls, the door falling shut behind him with a loud thud as he waves the paper in front of Sirius’ face.

‘Supernova Sirius Black Spotted with New Lover’ the headline reads. ‘Who Is the Mysterious Man Behind the Dazzling Smile?’

Remus hadn’t been able to think straight ever since Peter flopped the paper down in front of him at the breakfast table, grinning that Peter grin that only ever means trouble.

“Is this why you’re all so dressed up, Black? For him? I bet you’re not even wearing anything underneath these expensive robes, little slut that you are. It’s really fucking pathetic.”

For the first time since Remus’ sudden appearance, Sirius looks him in the eye. A mocking smile curls his pretty lips.

“Or”, he says with a haughty raise of his chin, “you’re just pissed you never got the sight that he is getting. What? Never heard of actions having consequences, Lupin?”

“Damn right, I have.”

And with that, Remus starts moving forward, determined once more. Sirius is left with nothing aside from taking more steps back. His back hits the wall once they reach the other side of the room. Remus is on him in an instant, crowding him in.

“Don’t you think I don’t know what you’re doing? Taunting me? Riling me all up?”, he murmurs lowly, reaching out to gently caress Sirius’ cheek. Having run out of smart words, Sirius can only stare up at him. Smiling, Remus trails his thumb over the other man’s lips, wondering what they taste like. Cigarettes maybe. Or wine.

“But you don’t have to, sweetheart. You know I am all yours. Always. And I know that you’re always mine. No matter what the press says.”

“You’re delusional”, Sirius scoffs, finally bringing up the courage to push back against him. It doesn’t do much as Remus remains unmovable, simply grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head. The time for games is over.

“I know you want me”, Remus continues, lodging his knee between Sirius’ legs, gently pressing against his crotch. A low hiss escapes Sirius. It awakens something inside of Remus. Something desperate for more. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. How you’re making sure I follow your every move whenever you perform. I know the magazine cover was just another of your honey-sweet taunts. So was the trick with the perfume. But what for? If you wanted my attention so badly, all you needed to do was ask. You know you’ve never been out of my mind. Not once.”

“Remus, I-“

“Shhh, baby. It’s okay. I want you too. God, I want you so much.”

Leaning down until his lips find the sensitive juncture of Sirius’ neck and shoulder, he uses all his weight to keep Sirius in place. Hungrily, he starts nipping at his warm skin, not stopping until the first bruise starts forming underneath his lips. Unable to move, laboured breaths turn into bitten-back moans, and Remus revels in the way how needy it makes Sirius sound.

“Look at you”, Remus sighs into the crook of his neck, pressing adoring kisses up to the shell of his ear. “So lovely, so beautiful. Every man who wouldn’t fall for you is a fool. But you won’t belong to any of them. No. You’ll always be mine.”

Turning his head, he captures Sirus’ lips with his own before the other man can answer anything he has said. And Remus doesn’t need him to. The way his body responds, with his hips grinding ever so slightly against Remus’ knee, the choked-up moans, and tongue sliding past teeth, Remus has the answer, that he was looking for. It delights him.

Carefully, he releases one hand, curiously wandering down the warm flesh pressed against him. Loosening the tie on the robe, he slips it past the fabric, pushing it aside. A small whimper can be heard from Sirius, and Remus cannot help but take it as an invitation. Tracing taunting circles across the inner side of his thigh and panting into Sirius’ opened, desperate mouth, he lifts his lover’s leg and hooks it across his waist. He wants to feel him better, see him better.

And what a sight Sirius truly is.

His face is flushed and his hair is dishevelled. Ivory skin glints with pearls of sweat, accentuated by the shimmering red of the silk robe. Dreamy, half-lidded eyes watch Remus move about while his chest heaves breathlessly. Gripping Sirius’ upper thigh firmly to keep him where he wants him, Remus lets go of his hands, surging forward for another hungry kiss.

Sirius’ fingers immediately wind into his hair, clawing at the curls, pulling him in. Enamoured, Remus lifts him up until both his legs are wrapped securely around his waist. Then, he carries him off, tumbling towards the couch in the middle of the living room.

Flopping Sirius down, Remus is quick to climb on top of him, drinking in the sight of the robe slowly falling off his shoulders, offering his body up to him, while he takes off his shirt. Kissing him some more, he circles one arm around Sirius’ waist, pressing their bodies closer together, and moves his hips against Sirius’ in feverish motions. Moaning and whimpering, their dance soon turns into a waltz of clawing nails, angry snarls and biting teeth. Yet, Remus doesn’t let him go. He wants all of this. He wanted it for far too long.

Hot and breathless, he reaches down once more, gripping Sirius’ cock and slowly starting to stroke it just the way he knows he likes it; moving up to the tip only to stop right before he reaches it and back again, teasing. Growing pliant underneath him with his back arching, mouth hanging open and eyes rolling back only a bit, Sirius lets him have his way. Remus cannot stop himself from grinning.

“You like that, huh? I knew it.”

“Fuck… you.”

“Oh, baby. You are reading my mind.”

Pulling down both his trousers and underwear to the back of his knees, Remus starts wanking off to the show Sirius is now performing for him. And, unlike all these where times where he kept taunting him on stage – dressed in the tightest of fits, moving his body across the floor like a desperate whore, hitting those delicious high notes still burnt into the most hidden parts of Remus’ brain -, this time it’s solely for him.

Bringing himself almost to a clean finish with a needy groan wrenching its way out of his lungs, he reaches for the bowl of condoms conveniently placed on the table atop the couch, rolling one over himself without much hesitation. Once he looks back, he can find Sirius watching him with the deadly and hungry precision of a starved dog. Remus’ chest swells with pride and burns with desire just the same.

“You know”, he tells Sirius, lifting him by his waist and pulling him closer to his hips, “I have dreamt about this moment ever since you first came back on stage, wearing this black garment. Multiple times, I have seen you in my sleep, just like you are now. And you know what, Sirius?”

“What?” Sirius breathes back, voice shaky with anticipation.

“Even if you tell me to fuck off once we’re done, you’ll not be rid of me yet. I will only have tasted blood. I’ll want more. And I will not stop until I have you back at my side.”

Laughing, Sirius shakes his head. “That’s not going to-“

Remus never gets to hear Sirius’ words as he’s pushing inside of him right this moment, successfully cutting him off. And to say that it feels good is a fucking understatement. Even a missile launcher wouldn’t have been able to shoot Remus off this cloud that he ultimately finds himself on. Curses roll off his lips as his hips start to move, fucking Sirius with every bit of burning passion and hateful desire pent up over all this teasing and taunting. Even as Sirius, moaning and squirming, lets his hands claw into Remus’ back, scratching it angry and raw, he doesn’t stop. Even as the orgasm ripples through Sirius, forcing him to let his head fall in a pathetic groan, Remus does not let go. He fucks him until the moaning and whimpering turns into blabbered nonsense and tear-stained cheeks. He fucks him until Remus himself is exhausted and spent, falling on top of Sirius’ paralysed and bruised body with a shaky sigh.

For a minute, maybe ten, they lie next to each other, struggling for breath. However, stubborn as he is, Sirius is the first to bear his wits. Slipping out of Remus’ arms, he pulls out the robe from underneath him and dresses himself back on.

“Are you happy now?” he asks through gritted teeth, not looking at Remus as he has his back turned towards him. Remus can only smile up at him adoringly.

“I could have not asked for more.”

“Good. Now get the fuck out of my sight.”

The smile turning smug, Remus does as he’s asked, putting his clothes back on. However, Sirius remains stoic, not giving him the satisfaction of looking him in the eye. Not once, and not even as Remus is heading for the door. Satisfied, he throws his shirt casually over his shoulder, showing off the bleeding scratch marks like a badge of honour. The whole world shall see what Sirius Black can do when edged on long enough.

“I know you’ll call me anyway”, he admits into the silence of the room, the triumphant feeling not leaving his body. “No matter how good your mystery lover is, he’ll never be able to make you moan like I can. Of that, I am certain.”

Sirius doesn’t answer, doesn’t have to.

This time, Remus knows he has won.

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Toxicity

We only see toxicity in others but not in ourselves.

I was thinking about Sydney today and how everyone seems to think wanting "the best" for her means overruling her feelings, her choices, and her free will. And how toxic that behavior is.

And ultimately, how much it belittles her.

Since S1, she's been giving us clear signs of always, no matter what, choosing and trusting Carmy, even when she knows for a fact he’s not perfect, even if their relationship is not perfect either, as no relationship is btw, even if he has a lot of work to do and even if he doesn’t deserve her, she has always chosen him. Now, her fanbase thinks that because they are "protective of her ", or because they love her and because they say they want the best for her, that gives them some kind of greenlight to completely ignore her will and her choices. Her autonomy as a person. I know she's a fictional character, but symbolically speaking, that is.

If someone did that to us we could clearly see how that would be wrong, even if they had their best interests at heart. Right?

There's a difference between respecting someone and enabling their toxic behavior and those who do this are making it pass for "protectiveness" when it's actually infantilizing her in a sense. It's a protectiveness based on the assumption that Syd doesn't know what's best for her, she can't make her own choices, she just doesn't know better, and she's not smart enough to know what/who is best for her. In other words, it's another way of invalidating her choices that may or may not be right, like anybody else's but are only hers to make, independently. Showing her real respect would be supporting her and hoping for the best, wishing her the best even when we might fear that may not be the final outcome for her if she takes that course of action we'd advise her against "for her own good", but the truth is we don't know... What we do know is that there's love in the meantime and that her heart is still in it. So that should be enough for us if we really trusted her.

I think the worst dichotomy and what I have a problem with the most is not all I just mentioned because I can see the heart of those who are soooooooooo wrong being in the right place despite being absolutely off the mark, BUT what really sends me is the double standard of say 60% of the fandom (?) who are great and really quick to spot the toxic behaviors in Donna, the C person, even Richie or the Faks but when it comes to themselves, they perceive themselves just as "Team Syd/ Protectors of Syd", as if she needed bodyguards to guard her against Carmy, and against her own inability to wisely choose what's in her best interest. They just don't even think about any of the other factors I pointed out. Not to mention the sanctimoniousness of the implicit oxymoron: "If they did that to me I would fucking hate it but since I’m the one who’s doing it to a fictional character, that I’m projecting onto, that makes it OK". I mean...

At the end of the day, the writer is the one who decides what to do or not with that character, we can have our opinions and preferences, of course, but what I’m saying is if you’re coming from a place of judging a character, projecting onto it your belief system and your own frustrations, preferences, fears, etc, then at the very least admit it.

And once you do, please note that:

You are not being protective of Sydney, you are making it all about you.

Don't get me wrong, we all do it. I do it all the time with the C person, for instance, I totally project onto her my absolute intolerance for people like her IRL. I hate them, I fear them, I do not respect them, I get the fuck away from them, I protect myself from people like her, I expect the very worst from them and act accordingly. That character reminds me of those who are that way and thus I feel this instant rejection for her. That being said, I gotta keep it fair, if she does something right, I will give her that. If she fucks up, like she did on the show, I will 100% call her out on that too because since I know I project, I keep myself in check enough at all times to make sure that my projection and personal bias against her do not prevent me from actually watching the show so when I analyze her scenes I make the conscious effort of separating my projections from my judgment and then dissect her scenes and come to XY and Z conclusions. I do not let myself get in my own way and that's how I know her character was and always will be unnecessary for the plot. I THINK it was a wrong creative choice from the very get-go, but since I gotta go by what the writer says and shows me and implies on screen, I do not let all that interfere with my watching experience and subsequent interpretations. Meaning: it's not about me, or about the kind of people I like or not IRL, it's about the C person, the character, and the writer that is writing her into existence, and from that standpoint I can say that I do not want her on the show, that I hate the relationship she had with Carmy. I don't think she adds anything really valuable to the plot, especially considering there is a character like Sydney in the equation who could add sooooo much more and so much better storytelling material if given the chance, but none of that would ever stop me from really seeing what Storer delivered - a character who enabled Carmy to see all those things about himself and his past that no longer serve him, and who therefore will be one of the catalysts of change for him - whether I like her or not.

I hope I made myself clear. This is not throwing shade, it's more like a manifesto against the patronizing ways of "supporting" Syd's character that I have been seeing all over since June 27.

But if I didn't make myself clear enough, here's the bottom line in a nutshell:

I get the genuine concern about Syd, I get how relatable her character is, especially for WOC, and I get the protectiveness, I just simply do not think any of those things are more important than trusting her judgment and if he's the one for her, then he's the one for her. I wish we could all agree on that and unite in the Sydcarmy wing of this awesome fandom, for the cause of not only wanting the best for the characters, both, but also for the respect they deserve, understanding by respect the opposite of condensing bias for or against a character, or at the very least the equivalent of support and trust in her process.

In Sydney Adamu I trust. She knows better, not me. (Yes, I am taking a leap of faith here, I am aware).

[idaredivel]

Yet again another short short fanfic for this little series, and honestly i think this one is gonna be the wrap (if i can't think a version for Mihawk, of course, but i doubt it)

This one i did try to beta it because it has a more serious note, since Shanks is having an attack (panic or anxiety, i leave it up for you to decide because i based it on what mines feels like). That said, the way Shanks calms down here may not be how someone else does (the way Mihawk helps him sure doesn't work for me, funnily enough! so take it with a grain of salt if it's not yours either)

Lastly: Thanks to everyone who read this series and liked it, it means more to me that you could ever imagine :)!

(Translation of final words: Mi amor-My love / Ástkær-My dear love)

Good night

He was beside Buggy, running down the street leading to the port, the Oro Jackson's sails a flash as they went as quickly as they could.

He was so happy to see everyone again, Captain specially, fearing that his condition got worse in the time the crew were away and, uncharacteristically, expecting the worst.

And

He met Roger with a smile, asking if everything went well, if they found it.

And

He got a laugh, a laugh that descended much more quickly than what Roger used to do. But he complied and answered some things.

And

Then Captain went silent for a second, just a second.

And told him—

Shanks didn't wake violently, even if he was pulled out of the dream—the memory—abruptly. A merciful thing. It had been a while since that particular one resurfaced, but it wasn't a rare flash from the past that his mind chosed to recall.

His brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton and because of this it was a second too late that he noticed he was having an attack. His throat closed making it difficult to breath, dizziness surrounded him and if his eyes were open, Shanks knew his vision would be full of black spots. He still tried to reel himself back from it, but it was getting more and more difficult by the second.

Then

He faintly felt his arm being raised and pressed against something, a steady rythm below his palm. The next thing he registered was his face being caressed with tenderness. A voice then reached his ears talking in whispers—no, not whispers, that was his hearing not working as it should—but nevertheless Shanks recognized it's tone and pitch, and it was trying to hide it, no doubt for Shanks' own sake, but it was laced with worry.

With strength he didn't think he had that moment, he forced himself to open his eyelids, the half-blurred image of his lover coming into view. Focusing on trying to see him better—five things, he remembered, so he counted his eyes, his nose, his lips and more or less his hair and beard—he started to make out the words being said to him too.

“Th..s it, ... focus ... m.. br..ath” Oh, that's right, he needed to regulate his breathing. He followed the best he could how his lover's chest expanded and contracted, trying to match his own to the movements. “Ther.. you go”.

Shanks didn't know how much time passed but the moment he got his eyesight back and his air intake mostly under control, his sole focus shifted to the sensations running through his skin. It felt like a hundred needles were poking him, making his body kind of numb but sensitive at the same time and while it was uncomfortable, he could manage.

His tired dark reds shifted up to meet worried liquid suns. “Mi...” Shanks sighed, just now noticing how dry his mouth was. Mihawk did too, apparently, because he—with a delicacy he only showed when tending to his blades—sat Shanks up, the master swordman's body supporting the emperor's, before a glass of water was offered to the latter's lips.

Drink finished and glass put away, Mihawk moved them so they were comfortable, grasping Shanks' hand again with his left and right arm hugging the younger to him so the captain's head rested between his own and his shoulder.

They stayed in silence, Shanks being grounded by Mihawk's touch until the last of pin pricks were mere afterthougts.

Then Shanks talked.

“Am sorry”. That gained the red-head a squeeze in his shoulder and a reproaching glare that he could feel even without looking, followed by: “Do not apologize for things that are out of your control”.

Then, much more kindly, Shanks' face was raised so he could lock eyes with the other's. “It's of no bother to me to help you with this, you know it already”.

A smile unusually small seized Shanks' mouth, lethargy making it's way in his body now that he was calm. “Yeah... Yeah, I know”. A chaste kiss was given. “Thanks”.

A yawn scaped from Shanks, energy completely drained but unwilling to go back to sleep, subsconsciously fearing whatever memory could pop up this time around.

“I'll be here”.

“Hm...?”

“Whatever happens next, whatever dream you have, I'll be here for you”. After clarifying, Mihawk made them lay down, positions reversed from when they first went to sleep because now it was Shanks laying half-atop of him. “So don't fret and rest, dear”.

Warm settles in Shanks' chest, internally reprimanding himself for forgetting how gentle Mihawk got with him when these attacks happened. Like this, he figured he had nothing to fear.

He sighed, happy, then said: “Good night, ástkær”.

The last thing Shanks felt was a soft kiss to his head.

And, finally: “Good night, mi amor”.

[idyllic-affections]

the dendro yaksha.

summary. xiao once had an older sibling.

trigger & content warnings. implied physical abuse, near-death, trauma, et cetera.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, angst, hurt/comfort. xiao & dendro yaksha!reader. 0.6k words. they/them pronouns used for reader.

author's thoughts. this concept is one i plan on expanding upon a lot in the future. i'm sure one day i'll write a full-length oneshot of sorts based on the concept, but i think it'll just be brainrots, drabbles, and things of the like for now. xiao, my beloved, he deserves so many good things fr <3

bosacius was not the only yaksha who disappeared into the chasm 500 years ago.

a very long time ago, xiao once had what he liked to regard as an elder sibling. the two were by no means related by blood, but as as immortals, there was hardly any difference between blood and chosen family.

they always protected him, taking the worst of the wrath of that ancient god who'd kept both of them chained. sometimes they'd fall asleep for months on end just to recuperate from the awful injuries they would sustain. never once did they stop doing defending alatus, though, regardless of how much he had pleaded them to.

he appreciated their efforts in a way that couldn't possibly be described, but he didn't want to be alone.

"i'll always come back, dove, no matter how long i'm asleep for," they assured gently, lovingly, "so don't worry, okay? i'll always come back, alatus."

"promise?" he whispered, wide and teary golden eyes staring up into their own.

they smiled, pinching his cheek affectionately. "promise. just try not to anger him while i'm gone, 'kay? can't have you getting hurt."

when morax first liberated them, they were violent, refusing to let him or guizhong or cloud retainer or streetward rambler or marchosius or anyone touch them or their baby dove. no-one could get close. no, no, they were convinced that the gods were only out to get them and their brother.

(and it was only upon the reassurance of a winged, musically inclined—not to mention much younger—deity from a different nation that they calmed down, but that's a story for another time.)

inevitably, however, those doubts subsided. morax was... surprisingly gentle at times, they noted, and guizhong—goodness, did she even have the capacity to fight? she was brilliant, but not strong.

it was only a matter of time before they swore their loyalty to the lord of geo, signing a contract that would last as long as they lived.

it wasn't until the cataclysm that perhaps their contract would come to an end. after all, the situation they were in was terribly grim.

they wanted to live.

they wanted to live, but they were willing to die in defense of liyue harbor.

being trapped in the depths of the chasm wasn't so unbearable for the first while. bosacius may have lost his mind, but still... they liked to think there was a little glimmer of recognition in his eyes whenever he saw them.

that mortal man trapped with them was awfully good company too, but they feared he would succumb to their's and bosacius' combined karmic debt.

eventually, three became two, and two became one.

they were sure that all that was keeping them sane was studying the odd space they were trapped in (that and the fact that they still retained some sway over the dendro element and therefore could craft cute little flower crowns to kill time). it was fascinating, really. it occupied their mind, distracting them from the darkening of their vision and the malicious whispering in their ears.

repeatedly, though, they almost lost their never-ending battle.

they eventually stopped counting the years that passed. their sense of time was terribly skewed, anyway, so they doubted they'd been counting accurately in the first place.

xiao found the collection of flower crowns littered around a particular spot very, very nostalgic and even comforting. his dendro-aligned sibling always enjoyed making such things for him and the other yaksha.

he dared not get his hopes up, though. anyone could've made the crowns.

it was by following the faint trail of dendro energy (which was largely drowned out by familiar karma) that he found them, barely alive.

yet...

despite being so out of it, when they saw xiao, they smiled so, so sweetly. they soothingly squeezed his hands—they were trying to soothe him, he quickly realized. he must've looked frantic if they were so quick to reassure him rather than reassure themselves that he was really there.

"i would say something witty like, 'i told you i'd always come back,'" they giggled, "but it's you who came back for me this time, isn't it, alatus?"

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[raspberryfingers]

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 8)

WARNINGS: Tywin being the largest asshole ever

Word Count: 6.5k

—————

Ever since I’d given Lord Tywin the ring, things had changed between us. And despite what one might assume, our relationship hadn’t changed for the better. In the last two weeks, Lord Tywin had been cold, flippant, and arrogant whenever I’d tried to talk with him. At first I’d just assumed he was having a bad day, or was frustrated by politics and war, the sort of thing men will let themselves be frustrated by. Then I remembered that it was Tyrion’s name day, and naturally thought that it must’ve been a rather painful anniversary for him. But no, even after that had passed, he did not warm up to me. 

It became incredibly apparent to me that I was somehow the problem, and what was most annoying was that I had not a single clue as to why. He’d seemed overjoyed when I’d given him the ring, I mean for the gods’ sake, he’d even called me by my name alone. 

But now he was dreadful, always grumbling and making excuses whenever we saw one another. They were not even good excuses either, and some had just been outright lies. I had been meaning to confront him about his behavior anyway, but I snapped today. 

It had started perfectly fine, a bit dull at the worst, but fine. My grandmother had other business to attend to—which, in reality, meant she did not want to do anything—and so I took her place in the great hall. Though it was ‘unofficial’, there were certain days where the lords and ladies would gather to gossip, plan, and learn unnecessary information about each other. Today was one of those days, and I found myself enveloped in an extremely boring conversation with several noble ladies. 

“Lady Trysta was seen flirting with Lord Darren in the gardens yesterday, can you believe it?”

“Gods, isn’t his wife pregnant with their first child?”

“I don’t believe such nonsense. Lady Trysta is a very noble woman, surely she wouldn’t do something so insulting.”

I wondered how my grandmother managed to survive such droll conversations, though I understood that this was why she had sent me in her place. She might’ve sent Margaery if not for the fact that she was with King Joffrey today, and that thought at least provided some reassurance.

But still, I was not the politician that either my grandmother or sister were. I supposed I just preferred real politics to court gossip, though usually the two must go hand in hand.

When I spotted Lord Varys exiting a conversation across the room, however, I took my chance. It would seem far less rude to exit the conversation if it appeared as though I was going to speak with someone else. 

“Excuse me, ladies,” I said softly, moving back from the circle and making my way across the room. I did not stay close enough to hear anything they’d said, nor did I look back to see their faces. I quite honestly did not care enough.

Lord Varys saw me coming and brought his hands together in expectation. I gave him a subtle smile, and he raised his eyebrow in response. When I reached him, he bowed his head.

“Lady (Y/N).”

“Lord Varys, how are you?”

“Perfectly fine, my lady. And how are you?” He asked, lowering his hands to his lap. I’d always found Lord Varys to be an agreeable man. Of course, he was still one to be cautious around, but he was infinitely better than Littlefinger, and the short interactions we’d had were enjoyable. 

“I have been better and been worse, my lord,” I answered truthfully, knowing it couldn’t really do me any harm. The Spider gave a low chuckle.

“I hear there is news of the change in the wedding plans,” he mentioned, to which I huffed out. There was another thing I needed to discuss with Lord Tywin, as he had not been willing to give Sansa Stark to my brother. She was now to wed Tyrion, and Loras was to wed Cersei. My grandmother had agreed out of fear of Loras being appointed kingsguard, but I would sooner rot in all seven hells than watch my brother marry Cersei Lannister. 

“That arrangement certainly does not make me feel better, but it is not that. May I unburden myself to you, Lord Varys?” I asked, hoping for someone wise and reasonable to listen to me. It was not as though I could talk about it to any of my family members, for I feared they would tease and ask far too many questions. They of all people would be surprised to hear me complain that Tywin Lannister was being rude to me, or at least surprised to hear that I wished to remedy the situation.

“Is it something that can be used against you?” he asked, taking a breath and tilting his head. It was good of him to at least give me that warning, even if I already knew better. 

“I highly doubt it. I wouldn’t have even brought it up if it was.”

“Smart of you, Lady Tyrell. By all means, go ahead.”

I smiled, and so did Lord Varys. To say that we were friends was a false statement, but I preferred his company to quite a lot of people’s in King’s Landing.

“Recently, I believed Lord Tywin and I to be having an improving relationship. It was rather nice, because being allies with a man you hate is quite frustrating, as I’m sure you can imagine. But, these last two weeks, he’s distanced himself from me more than is anywhere close to reasonable, and I cannot think of anything I may have done wrong,” I explained, sighing and glancing up at the throne, which sat directly over Lord Varys’ shoulder.

The Spider nodded, contemplating and looking down. I saw a smile tug at the corner of his lips, but it disappeared just as fast as it had come. I might’ve asked about it had he not replied so quickly afterward.

“Don’t worry yourself with it, Lady (Y/N). Lord Tywin can be unpredictable at times, I’m certain that whatever reason he has for being a bit colder than usual is a good one,” he assured me, reaching out and placing a hand on my shoulder. I sighed, gazing across the room where Lord Tywin himself was engaged in a conversation. He was not saying much, but it was clear that everyone in the circle spoke as if they needed his approval. 

At that instant, however, he looked over and met my gaze. He only held it for a moment, though, as his eyes then looked Lord Varys over rather thoughtfully. His face twisted bitterly, and he focused on the man speaking again. Lord Varys removed his hand from me, giving me a rather sympathetic look.

“I- I have considered speaking to him about the subject, though I’m not entirely sure if that would be a good idea considering that Lord Tywin is… well, Lord Tywin,” I said, finally turning my head to look at the man in front of me again. He blinked a few times with contemplation and then sighed out.

“The Hand certainly is a complicated man, but I think if you approached him about it in the right way he might be receptive. I do hope you will figure it out, my lady. It would be quite nice to see you and Lord Tywin getting along for a change,” Lord Varys replied, giving the gentlest of smiles. I looked over at the group of men with Lord Tywin again and got the sudden urge to go over.

“Would you come with me, Lord Varys? I’d like to hear that conversation, and I think being on your arm would seem a more natural reason to join it.”

“Of course, my lady.”

I took the Spider’s arm, and we found ourselves wandering across the hall and joining the circle in a matter of moments. The Master of Whispers was never out of place in any conversation, and beside him, neither was I. Lord Tywin gazed at me for a mere second and then returned his focus to the man talking. I was the only woman in the group, naturally.

“Robb Stark wants to behead Rickard Karstark now. The man went and killed two Lannister boys all because he’s bitter,” one of them said, scoffing out as if the notion was utterly ridiculous. Another man glared and shook his head.

“You’d be bitter too if someone killed your boy. Of course, the man’s a bloody fool for doing it, but the anger is understandable.”

“Well, I hope ‘the King in the North’ does the honorable thing like his father would’ve. He’ll lose all the Karstark bannermen if he does. The war will be over five seconds after the man’s head is gone.”

“And he’s got no substantial allies then.”

Feeling the urge to speak up, I let go of Lord Varys’ arm and cleared my throat to grab all the men’s attention. “Robb Stark is a great strategist if nothing else, gentleman. It would be unwise to underestimate him simply because his numbers are small.”

I expected to meet resistance from a few of them, just as women always do in such a setting, but I had not expected it from the Hand of the King himself.

“His numbers aren’t small, he does not have numbers at all. Robb Stark is just like his father, too honorable, and the second Rickard Karstark loses his head, we win,” Lord Tywin spoke, giving me a somewhat condescending look. Everyone seemed surprised, as he’d been very quiet for most of the discussion. My annoyance grew. Why challenge me in a circle of already skeptical men? It depleted my credibility and made me look foolish. 

“I’ve heard whispers that Robb Stark has received a request from Walder Frey. Though the boy is already married, Lord Frey wishes to have his uncle, Edmure Tully, marry one of his daughters,” Lord Varys added, and I appreciated his conscious aid, for Lord Tywin was feeling particularly ‘cunt-ish’ this afternoon. 

“And if that were to happen, that alliance could be worrisome and a threat,” I said, proving my point as my eyebrows furrowed with anger. The circle grew awkward as the aggression built between Lord Tywin and I.

“Walder Frey will never make an alliance with Robb Stark.”

“And how do you know that? Did you become all knowing since the last time we spoke, Lord Tywin?”

“I know that because I’m not a fool.”

The circle went utterly silent, and not a single man released or took a breath. I felt my eyes twitch. No, I would not stand here and let Lord Tywin embarrass me. We’d always had conflicts, but how dare he insult me so harshly in front of others?

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” I said sharply, removing myself from them. As I did, Varys gave me a soft look of apology, and I would thank him for it later. As I walked away, however, I heard Lord Tywin say one last thing.

“Forgive her, gentlemen. Lady Tyrell is young and naive, nothing more than a girl, really. She’s under the impression that commanding her father’s armies gives her far more power and influence than she really has. It would be unfair to judge her knowledge of real politics.”

 I heard laughter coming from the group, and only for a second did I stop walking. I felt my heart shatter at his words, though it did not take long for anger to replace the hurt.

How dare he? 

How dare he embarrass me so publicly? Because his testing tone and his insults had merely been aggravating to my face, but behind my back and not directly to me, they were unforgivable. After every conversation we’d had? After he’d directly confirmed that he did not view me as childish or stupid, he dared to insinuate that I was both things to a group of men that did not know me?

He was well aware of the fact that I did not like to be discredited, and yet he had said such a thing anyway. Perhaps I had overestimated both how truthful and how understanding the Old Lion was.

Despite this feeling of disgust, I continued to walk out of the hall, though anger and possibly even heat were omitted from every step I took. It would stay that way until I confronted him that afternoon, when it would only get worse.

—————

When I entered Lord Tywin’s office, I thought I might explode. He did not even look up at me when I entered, acting as though I simply wasn’t there. He just went on answering letters, completely unaffected by my presence in the room.

I heard the double doors shut behind me, and even more angry about the fact that he was not acknowledging my presence, I made purposeful strides towards his desk. When I reached it, he still would not lift his head.

“Lord Tywin, I wish to speak with you,” I said, balling my fists at my sides to try and contain my fury. I was also trying so hard not to sound rude that I instead sounded like something was stuck in my throat.

“You already are,” he replied curtly, still scratching something down on his parchment. I scowled, reaching across his desk and ripping his stupid quill from his hands. He did not seem shocked, he simply looked at me with boredom. It was as if he was asking me ‘are you done?’.

“I want to speak with you, not at you,” I clarified sternly, placing the quill down on the wood now that Lord Tywin had at least bothered to look at me.

“And what is it that you wish to discuss?”

I could only gape at him for a moment, raising both eyebrows to ask if he was being entirely serious. When he said nothing, I scoffed and clenched my jaw. “What is it that I wish to discuss? I don’t know, perhaps the atrocious way that you treated me today!”

“I don’t know what you mean, Lady Tyrell,” he replied, giving me the most condescending look I’d ever seen. I, however, was in shock. Lady Tyrell?

Lady fucking Tyrell?

“Lady Tyrell, Lord Tywin? Are you serious? And don’t play stupid with me, you’re above that. You embarrassed me in front of all those lords. You made me look like a desperate fool and an idiot,” I hissed, glaring down at him with more anger than I even knew I possessed. I’d suffered quite a lot of insults in my life, but none so degrading as the ones I’d heard from him today.

“You were behaving like one, Lady Tyrell,” he replied, making my knuckles go white on his desk. In all the time that I’d known him, he’d very seldom called me by that title. Many did, but not him. Not when speaking to me, at least.

“Stop fucking calling me that! I’d rather you call me an insufferable cunt than Lady Tyrell!” I shouted in a rare moment of utter frustration. Somehow, him referring to me that way was even more upsetting than him saying that I was childish. I hadn’t a clue why that was.

For just a moment, there was a flash of surprise in the Lord Hand’s eyes. It had been quite some time since I’d yelled at him that way, and I supposed he hadn’t been expecting it. It seemed that my words had gagged the man, for he merely stood up from his seat to be at a more even level to me. Had I been anyone else, his height would’ve been intimidating, but I knew exactly what he was doing and it only made me more bold.

“You crossed a line today, Lord Tywin. Embarrassing me to my face is one thing, and perhaps you believe I deserved that, but when I’m not even present in the conversation and you have the audacity to call me desperate and witless, that is entirely another! You ought to have had the decency to at least try and defend me as Lord Varys did. No, instead you actively opposed me like my sentiment was somehow the most foolish one you’d ever heard, and if you’re honest with yourself, you know that what I was saying made sense,” I ranted, glaring at him and slowly making my way around his desk as I did. I was taking slow, furious steps, and eventually I was standing right in front of him. There was unbridled anger on his face now, and I was at the very least satisfied to have broken his unbothered facade. 

“And what would you have had me say? Whether you believe yourself to be clever or not, I don’t agree with your sentiments about Robb Stark and Walder Frey,” he replied, only addressing the most trivial part of my frustration. I sighed, shaking my head at him.

“I’m not asking you to agree with me, but forgive me for wanting you to have at least not embarrassed me. Is that so unimaginable to you? I mean gods help me, Lord Varys! How is it that Lord Varys, a man I hardly know, made me look more credible than you did? Have I overstated our friendship? Do you truly care for me that little?” I went off on him, taking a step forward so that I was practically looking directly up at him. I was unbelievably angry, though more than anything I was hurt. 

“We are not friends, Lady (Y/N)! We are allies. Allies! I have no obligation to defend you anywhere but the battlefield. Nor do I have to honor your image, especially when you are so prone to foolishness. Most importantly, I have no obligation to be kind to you at all. Perhaps if you’d had the sense to remind yourself of that, you wouldn’t be so upset in the first place,” he shot back, nose wrinkling with his anger while he spoke. I was relieved to—at the very least—hear him use my name, but also hurt at his sentiment. Although, I was not just going to accept that. I was not one to overstate relationships, and I would not let him treat me like I was groveling for his affection. After all, it was I who had struggled to see him as anything but an enemy.

“Merely allies, Lord Tywin? Be honest with yourself. You have saved my life during the battle, and you helped me back to my room when my stitches split. You had a new pair of armor made for me which was far more elegant than any reasonable person would’ve asked for, and you paid for the smith to fix my Valyrian steel sword. We quite literally hunted, dined, and slept outside together! You want to tell me that we’re not friends? Even after all that? You’re currently wearing a ring that I had made for you and you truly want to believe we aren’t anything more than just allies?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows and searching for any hint of emotion in his eyes. I was only trying to clear up where he’d gotten lost, or maybe where I had. 

Lord Tywin only glared at me, and after a moment he lifted his hand. I watched him grab at the ring, twisting it back and forth to loosen it from his skin before pulling it off entirely. He grabbed my hand then, opening it up and placing the Valyrian steel inside my palm. Looking at it, my heart sank all the way into my stomach. Tears suddenly began to prick at my eyes, but I looked down. The Lord Hand would not see me cry.

We stood there in silence for a minute, and even though he couldn’t see my eyes, he could obviously tell that he had hurt me. He decided he might as well put the nail in the coffin.

“You really still are that naive and foolish girl from all those years ago, aren’t you-“

As I heard Lord Tywin say it, my hurt suddenly turned into fury. How dare he behave like this? I couldn’t contain myself anymore, even if I’d wanted to.

Though my left hand was holding the ring in it, my right hand was completely free. I slapped Tywin Lannister across the face with all the strength I had in me. My hand was stinging, and he let out a choked noise as I did it. His cheek already looked flushed, and I was rather satisfied with it.

Though, my satisfaction did not last long. Lord Tywin’s eyes filled with hot rage, and he gripped my forearms before pulling me into him harshly. I was pressed up against him, glaring up at him with defiance.

“I will not hit you, Lady Tyrell, but be careful,” he warned, tone low and threatening. My chest was heaving, and so was his. 

“It won’t be a problem, Lord Hand. I never wish to speak to you again, civilly or otherwise.” I broke free of his grasp, giving him one last glare and turning my back to him. I made my way out of the room in silence, and only once the door had shut behind me did I permit myself to cry.

—————

Lord Tywin sighed, slumping back in his chair and gripping the arms of it. He looked up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the guilt that was chewing away at him. Gods, why had he said all that to you? 

His cheek still stung, but he was not bitter. He had pushed you so far you’d felt the need to do that, and that hurt more than any physical pain he was experiencing. And truthfully, he couldn’t stand the lack of weight on his left hand. 

“Stupid…” he muttered to himself, sitting up straight again and attempting to return to writing letters. He reached for the quill you’d left on the opposite side of the table, his lips pressing together as he dipped the tip of it into his inkwell. He needed to get his mind off of you, that was all.

The Lord Hand began scratching down words on his parchment, but he got no farther than a sentence. He could not get the image of you out of his head. The way you’d frozen when he’d insulted you in the Great Hall, the way your head had refused to lift when he’d given you back the ring. It was gut wrenching. 

He could only scowl to himself, pushing his chair back with such force that it scraped against the stone floor and created an extremely unpleasant noise. Lord Tywin stood, going over to the cabinet at the side of the room to pour himself a cup of wine. He downed it much quicker than he normally would’ve.

Gods, he shouldn’t have grabbed you the way he did. He shouldn’t have said any of what he had. But this was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? To drive you away? He reflected that it had been a simple concept to consider, but now that you truly didn’t wish to speak with him, it hurt so much more than he’d ever imagined. 

The sound of thunder distracted him from his thoughts, and it made him flinch. He hadn’t even realized that it was raining outside, if he was honest. Going over to the window, though, he realized he could smell it. He couldn’t recall the last time it had rained in King’s Landing. 

No, Lord Tywin could not bear this. No amount of time or distraction would solve this aching. He needed to speak with you, even if you yelled and hit him. He didn’t care; you looked beautiful when you were angry. Perhaps that was what had caused this… affection to form. He did not like that he couldn’t control it. 

Firm in his decision, the Old Lion found himself exiting his office and rushing down the stairs in the Tower of the Hand much faster than he probably should’ve been. He couldn’t have cared less, though. All that mattered to him was clearing things up. What if you couldn’t forgive him?

He pushed these thoughts away, walking through the Red Keep with an unmatched pace. His only objective was to reach your room, it did not matter who he passed by. He would speak to you if it was the last thing he did.

“I’d like to speak to Lady (Y/N),” he said to Ser Elias, having arrived at your door and seeing the abnormally tall man standing in front of it. The knight only shook his head.

“She’s gone out, my lord. She- She went to the stables in quite a rush,” he explained to Lord Tywin, making the older man raise an eyebrow and tilt his head. 

“And you did not go with her?” He questioned, perhaps glad that he hadn’t but simultaneously furious that you intended to go out and had no protection. Was this knight the stupidest man in all seven kingdoms?

“I- I attempted to convince her, my lord, but she did not want me. I fear she- she requires some time alone,” Ser Elias answered with embarrassment, knowing that he ought to have done more convincing than he actually did. You were sobbing, who was he to argue with you and make it worse? He regretted it now, though.

“And you’re certain she went out? Do not lie to me, Ser,” the Lord Hand warned, trying to make sure that the knight wasn’t merely covering for you. 

“Yes, my lord, she did. You may take my tongue if I'm lying,” he replied, to which the Old Lion nodded. Though, he suddenly realized that you were going out in the rain. Gods, he had to go find you. He did not want you to get sick.

Lord Tywin glared at the taller man in front of him before rushing away, needing to get to the stables as soon as he possibly could. The rain had begun to come down quite hard, and if you had been eager to go out you would still be in the dress you’d been wearing all day, and that was not suitable attire for rain like this. According to many ladies at court, it was not suitable attire for anything. Well, perhaps it worked in one situation.

When the Lord Hand reached the stables, he was practically breathless, and yet he was shouting at the men there to saddle his horse as quickly as possible. They did so, and one of them offered him a cloak for the rain. He considered turning it down, but he figured it might be useful to wrap you in the thing once he found you.

As he mounted his horse and began riding through King’s Landing, he realized there was that problem too. You could be anywhere in the city or in the Kingswood, how was he to figure such a thing out? He tried to recall if you’d ever mentioned anything, perhaps a certain spot that you enjoyed. Thankfully, it did not take long for one idea to come to him. He just had to pray that you were actually where he thought you were. 

The rain was a heavy downpour as he made his way through the city, and Lord Tywin felt awful. Had it not been for him, you would not have felt the need to ride out here in such weather to begin with. He was thankfully rather protected by his tall boots and his leather coat, but his hair was drenched. He could not even begin to imagine the state you were in.

The Old Lion was riding as hard as his horse would let him, especially now that he had reached the Kingswood. He was searching desperately, trying to find the location he suspected you would be. His eyes were constantly going back and forth in an attempt to find any sign of you as quickly as he could. Even despite the tree cover, the rain was still coming through with a violence.

The sudden neighing of a horse caught his attention, and he worked his way toward it as precisely as possible. The sound of thunder was quite prominent, and he found himself stopping for minutes at a time to listen for anything besides that.

Eventually, however, he found your horse tied to a tree. Right beside it was a much larger one, and he instantly recognized it as the one you’d tried to climb when the two of you had gone hunting. 

Lord Tywin pulled on his reins, stopping his horse and holding a hand above his eyes to block the downpour. He squinted as he looked up toward the tree’s branches, and he let out a sigh of relief once he did. Just as he had suspected, there you were, nestled among the tree’s branches. Thank the gods, you were safe. Now all he had to do was speak with you.

—————

I couldn’t recall how long I’d been sitting in this damned tree. From the moment I’d left the Tower of the Hand, I had begun to dissociate. All I knew was that I needed to be away, and this had seemed the most natural place to come, even despite the rain.

Speaking of which, I was utterly drenched. My dress was soaked, and so was my hair, and yet somehow I did not mind that half as much as I minded the emotional turmoil I was experiencing. It was unbelievably frustrating to feel this way, especially over Tywin Lannister. 

It was so degrading, for I’d despised the man for so long and the second that I’d dared to let myself feel anything other than hatred for him, he’d decided to do this. The worst part was I had absolutely no clue what had happened, for when we’d gone to the smith together everything had been fine. I couldn’t think of a single thing I’d done to make the Lord Hand so cold to me, and yet he was anyway. 

I found myself wiping tears from my eyes even though I shouldn’t have bothered, as the rain was ten times worse. I could taste them in my throat, and I loathed it. Surely this man was not worth crying over, so why was I? He was rude, overly confident, and the most immoral person I’d ever met. I felt pathetic, and I wanted the tears to stop more than anything. They just wouldn’t.

“Lady (Y/N)!”

I felt a chill run up my spine at the sound of my name, and when I moved my head over to look down, I found the Lord Hand on his horse. He was at the base of the tree, looking up at me with his hand above his eyes to keep the rain off of them. The sight of him was somehow both relieving and infuriating. I did not want to speak with him, but he’d come for me even in the pouring rain. 

That didn’t mean I was letting him off the hook, however, and after setting my eyes upon him I instantly turned my head the other way. I had told him I didn’t wish to speak with him and I meant it. 

“Lady (Y/N) I- I wish to explain myself!” Lord Tywin shouted up at me, trying to make sure that he was audible over the annoyingly loud rain. I had no intention whatsoever to let him know that I could hear him.

“I have- I have been cold to you these last two weeks, I am not going to feign ignorance. I’ve made excuses as to why I cannot speak with you, and I have actively avoided you. You did not deserve that treatment, and you most certainly did not deserve the things that I did and said today,” he said, straining his voice and pausing in between sentences to think through everything he was saying. He almost sounded breathless, and it struck me as odd. 

“I was cruel, and I cannot blame you for your anger. Even if I could, I wouldn’t. You- You have gone against your better judgment in associating with me, for I know that I make it quite hard. I’m simply… I’m hesitant, Lady (Y/N),” Lord Tywin continued, and I could sense a certain desperation in his voice. I finally allowed myself to look over at him, and though I could not see him particularly well from the top of the tree, I could certainly see that he truly meant what he was saying. “The last true friend I had was the late King Aerys, and he betrayed my trust in every way imaginable. And you… you already harbor quite a lot of negative feelings toward me, so when you gave me the ring, I- I became afraid. I did not want to permit myself to be hurt if you should suddenly regret tolerating me.”

“So you decided that pushing me away was the best option?” I scowled suddenly, no longer capable of holding in my anger as I turned to face him. Did he really think that his little ‘explanation’ was going to make me forgive him? 

“Yes, that is exactly what I decided. And I understand that it was foolish and selfish of me, that is why I am here. I initially believed that- that if I simply pushed you away now it would not hurt me, but the second that you left my office, Lady (Y/N)… even the second that you left the great hall, I understood the gravity of- of my feelings,” he said, grappling with his reins as a sudden clap of thunder startled the animal beneath him. I could only stare at him.

“Your feelings?”

“Yes, my feelings. I desire your friendship, let me be clear about that. Even if I- Even if I believed it was best to push you away, it is not what I wanted. You are infuriating, Lady (Y/N), and I crave it. You yell at me, you lecture me, and then you take my arm all the same. You’re a challenge, and it is invigorating. No matter how many gifts I buy, or how many compliments I give, you’re never complacent. You have made me work not just for your companionship, but simply for the right to be tolerated, so much so that I now yearn for it,” Lord Tywin replied, removing his hand from above his eyes so that I might actually see them. He ran it through his dripping hair instead, slicking it back and blinking hard as the rain came down. I could see the water running down his face, and I pondered that I was like a maiden in a song or a story. Though, Lord Tywin was not my lover, nor was he making a love confession. And unlike those maidens, I still found myself somewhat upset. 

“And what happens once you tire of this ‘challenge’, my lord? Why, besides that, do you want my friendship? Because as far as I am concerned, you currently have no problem rejecting my offering of it,” I pointed out, similarly moving the wet hair out of my face. The odds of me being sick tomorrow were almost certainly 100.

Lord Tywin blinked a few more times, wiping the water from his face with his hand and swallowing. He sighed out then, looking down for a moment before meeting my eyes again. “Because despite my insults, you are incredibly intelligent, not to mention kind—at least when you’re not angry. But more than that, you… you make me smile… and laugh… and I am not known for doing either of those things. I understand that when you granted me that ring, it was not simply an object, but an offering of your friendship. And I- I sincerely regret turning such a thing down. That is why I am here, Lady (Y/N). I am here because I need your friendship, and I am- I am sorry…”

 Even despite the rain, I could see that the Great Lion was looking at me with the utmost fondness in his eyes, and I felt my breath catching in my throat as I processed what he was saying. My head did not want to forgive him, but my heart was tugging at me, perhaps even begging me to.

Because I could not betray either of them, I simply stared at Lord Tywin. In all honesty, I hadn’t a clue what I would say even if I felt capable of speaking. The Hand of the King continued to gaze up at me, and when he realized that I had no intention to say anything, he said the only thing that was left to say.

“Lady (Y/N), please come down. You’re- You’re going to get sick.”

Although I could not reply, I certainly could do this. Even I had to admit that the feeling of being continually stuck in the rain like this was growing uncomfortable. Gods, the ride back to the Red Keep was going to be awful.

Carefully, I adjusted my grip on the tree and began to move my legs over to the side. Lord Tywin knew that I intended to come down, and naturally dismounted his horse to make sure that I was safe as I did. 

I held onto the different branches and crevices of the giant tree, and slowly began to work my way down it. The bark was rough and damp against my palms, but I felt sure footed even despite that. I made relatively quick work of it, and once I was close enough to the ground I simply jumped down.

I had not accounted for how slippery the leaves would be, however, and so as I hit the dirt I stumbled forward a bit and fell straight into Lord Tywin’s arms. He gripped me firmly, holding just below my shoulders and helping me stand up straight.

“Are you alright?” he asked, making sure I hadn’t accidentally messed up an ankle or something. I looked up at him, swallowing and then nodding in response to his question. He let go of me then, moving over to his horse and removing a cloak from his saddlebag. “Here, you’re absolutely drenched. We’ll go to the inn down the road, the Red Keep is too far for us to get to in this weather. I’m certain at least one soldier will give up his room for the right amount of gold.”

Lord Tywin wrapped the thing around me, rubbing my arms to warm me up and then placing the hood over my head. I had only now realized that I was shivering. He directed me over to my horse, helping me on before mounting his own animal. 

He looked at me once more, trying to make sure that I intended to follow him. When I gave him a nod, he spurred his horse and instantly started toward the nearby road. I started after him, eager to get anywhere that wasn’t outside in this wretched rain.

After about five minutes of hard riding, we thankfully came across the inn that he intended to stay in for the night. It suddenly hit me that Tywin Lannister intended to sleep here. I supposed there were a few nicer rooms, but still, it was hardly comparable to anything in the Red Keep or at Casterly Rock. Then again, he’d had no problem spending the night outside before.

I watched him approach a post then, dismounting and tying his horse to it. I did the same, though I was shivering so aggressively that it took me a moment to actually knot the reins. Lord Tywin was waiting for me, and I could see in his eyes that he was concerned for my health. I was certain it would be fine, I just needed to get warm. Now all that was left to do was pray that Lord Tywin and I could acquire two rooms, though somehow, I had a dreadful feeling that we’d end up stuck in one.

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[the-kr8tor]

I'm the worst person to tell your crush to. Why? I won't tell them- never. But every time you even look in their direction I'm gonna be like OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Daily Hobie HC! I've buttered you up enough with the fluff so time for this. It was summer, with Hobie waking up to the sound of excited chittering and the feeling of slight weights crawling around on top of the bed. His arm was wrapped tightly around you, tugging you closer as he feels the girls try to unravel him from your side. Chuckling, he simply just gently nudged them away, snuggling into you like you were a big plushie. You eventually woke up, chuckling at Hobie and your children's antics on the bed. You can feel them huff and try to tear Hobie's arms away from you, yet he kept snuggling into you, pulling you impossibly tighter and burying his face into the back of your neck. However, something feels odd. You feel extremely tired, and your throat feels like it's been stuffed with cotton. You turn over, muttering to Hobie how you might be catching a sickness, and how the kids and him both shouldn't get too close. You couldn't risk them catching this too. Hobie raises a brow, sitting up as Billie and Ramona watched from his side, their brows furrowed in worry at you. Hobie reaches over, pressing the back of his hand into your forehead, realizing that your temperature was rising quickly. You let out a broken hum at him pecking your cheek, offering to get you some tea to help soothe your throat, as well as take care of the chores for the day. You obviously feel guilty, but you reluctantly accept, feeling as if your bones have been melted into jelly. Hobie assists in propping you up against the headrest of the bed, waving over Bille and Mona to leave you alone to rest properly. The days go by, and you seem to get even sicker. Your skin looses color each day, and all you've done is sleep. Hobie's worried, especially after seeing the way your eyes seemed to slow in movement. He moved you to the couch, worried that perhaps the warmth of the bedroom was a bit too much. Billie and Ramona have been worried about you, crying in their fathers arms some mornings thinking you're dying. The most you can do is smile kindly while your lungs feel as if they're slowly deflating. When Hobie goes out for patrol, however, he notices something. With every patrol, more and more people seem to look more dead, like how you look. Hobie was baffled as to why this was the matter, considering this didn't look like any common cold..until he saw what the posters plastered on walls had said. Some sort of zombie virus was quickly spreading, most identifiable by the plaque on the tongue being a dark, usually black colour. His blood ran cold. This morning while you were talking to him, you had a few black spots on your tongue, which he had simply brushed off as seeds of some sort. Immediately, he swung home as fast as he could, hoping he wasn't too late. Hobie felt true fear for the first time in years. Fear for you. For Billie and Ramona. For what will come of this. -🐦‍⬛

Lol I'm the same! I'll never tell anyone but the moment their crush would pass by I'd be all smiley and raising my brows up and down 😂

Daily Hobie HC!!

What do u mean it gets sad this is so wholesome---- oh no--- OH NO!!!! NOT BILLIE AND RAMONA IN THE ZOMBIE AU NOOO GET MY BABIES OUT OF THERE

The way my face fell when I read the zombie warning poster 😭😭😭😭😭

HOBIE SWING FASTER!! GET TO THE GIRLS!!!

Now I'm in the zombie writing mood lol

[cass1opi4]

PART 2 OF CLOSE AS STRANGERS RIEGHT NEOW.

close as strangers part II - ashton irwin

an ashton irwin x reader

she/her pronouns (requested)

✦ ─ ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ ─ ✦

TWENTY-THREE MISSED CALLS FROM: no caller id.

ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY FIVE UNREAD TEXT MESSAGES FROM: A.Irwin

the musty glass of water sat on her bedside table, as it had done for the past three days. the unbearable sadness that she’d felt before ashton had returned to her body, her bones aching with every movement, her body heavy.

she didn’t know why she felt such a way, she broke up with him. she’d understand the depression if it was the other-way around, but she had no reason to break over her own decision, right?

basking in the misery of things that only you could’ve done to yourself is the worst form of torture anyone could ever put themselves through.

INCOMING CALL: cliffocondaᯓᡣ𐭩

she let it ring, staring at the phone as she hesitated on her next action, her teeth sinking into her lip.

she couldn’t ignore her best friend, not now, not ever. honestly, she needed him. everything hurt and not even she could fathom why, michael could fix that. michael always fixed that.

“hello?” his soft voice spoke, waiting patiently for an answer he never got, something he was used to. he’d always known how awful y/n was at phone calls. “you there?” silence once again was all he was met with “bunny, i need you to talk to me. when did you last hear from ash?”

her heart jumped to her throat at the mention of the name, of course michael didn’t call to ask if she was okay - ashton was a better friend to him. ashton was more hurt. “why? is he okay?”

“i don’t know. it’s- that’s why i called you, last i heard you guys were fine, now ash is missing. only context clue here is that yesterday he told luke he wanted to make things up with you, whatever that means?”

“fuck me.” she sighed, dragging her hands across her face, eyes nervously darting to the apartment door as a knock was heard “mike, look, i’ll call you back. i think i’ve found ash.”

the door knocked again, slightly more aggressively this time. she frowned, dragging herself up. “one second!” she yelled out, brushing her hair out with her fingers, makeup still lingering on her face from that morning.

the girl shakily moved over toward the door, opening it only to confirm her fears, yet also the sight was comforting.

three days after their breakup, ashton irwin stood at her door, clad in clothes that made him far too appealing to her, a single white rose gripped in his hand.

his expression was enough to kill her ten times over, the first time they’d seen eachother in six weeks and three days, and this is how it had to be. “i don’t want us to be over.” he spoke shakily, scanning her face for a reaction.

“don’t do this, ashton. we won’t work.” y/n teared, going to close the door, only for ash’s foot to stop her from doing so.

he shook his head “i don’t believe that.” he stated firmly. “i don’t believe that we won’t work, for four fucking years we’ve worked, i’m not going to throw all of that away because you think i care about my job more than you. nothing is more important than you, ever.”

she remained quiet, knowing ashton’s words were honest, though she believed he deserved more than what she could offer.

“i would give it all up for you in a heartbeat, baby. everything. never in my life has anything made more sense to me than this. than us. than you.” he took a deep breath, sinking down to his knee. “you’ve been the best part of me for forever, you make me who i am, for that i am so grateful. i don’t want to lose you over your own overthinking, n/n - marry me? let me never let you doubt my love again.”

she pouted, tears pouring as she slapped ashton around the back of his head. “you could’ve done it when i didn’t look a mess.” she choked out.

“you still haven’t answered.” ashton’s nervous look was enough to make anyone let out a giggle, the boy looked as if he was about to pass away on the spot.

“yes, dummy. of course i’ll marry you.”

[shearlin]

Word count: 2395

Chapter 6: Wind

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A day late but it's here!

This is a silly chapter, a tiny break from having angst in the first section :) I really like it. It inverts the formula of the previous chapters but I think it turned out okay.

A bit of a behind the scene update: I... might have scrapped 5k words of the 9th chapter because I didn't like how it was turning out. I've planned out and locked a new outline for it, but yeah I am really slow to write something new (that's the reason I've prewritten this fic before posting it excluding that last chapter, because 9 weeks is plenty of time, right?) and I hope I will be able to finish it on time, but... yeah :/

Anyway, Wind chapter is here! Enjoy :D

Barely a day has passed and Legend was already fed up. Worst part? He only had himself to blame.

He was justified as far as he was concerned. Not only was Ravio clearly going through his stuff and renting his adventure gear - again - they also only had a half an hour or so to spare to make a detour to his house and allow Legend to swap his gear and for all of them to restock potions and arrows at Ravio’s shop. They were in the middle of pursuit of a group of monsters. Who knew, what would the horde do if they let them get too far ahead or if the chain would be able to go back to his house once they finish the job.

The standard argument he had with Ravio almost every time he returned home after the merchant decided to move in, about whether the rental of his old gear was a good idea or not took him… more than they realised. 

So he kind of… shoved everything in sight into his bags and stormed off.

Well, not everything everything. He had a very good and clear reason to pack every single item he did and to leave those he didn’t behind.

If he could just remember what those reasons were now, that would be great.

If he could just remember what those reasons were now, that would be great.

So here he was. In another Hyrule, a day later, in the middle of the clearing where they made a camp to rest in for a day or two after the hard battle, trying to sort through the haphazardly grabbed items and somehow make his bag manageable again. He swore to every deity he knew the name of, if he would reach for one thing only to take out something completely different that was in its spot one more time- he was going to lose it.

“Need a hand with that, vet?” Four asked, keeping his distance outside of the circle of chaos around the other hero, doing impressively well to hide his amusement at the situation.

Four, among the others, tried to appeal to his reason when he was stuffing six-adventures-worth of items into his pouches. Only the fear of possible retaliation from the man with an entire arsenal in his back pocket stopped the ‘I told you so’s from spilling out.

“Do not touch my stuff,” he growled in response, putting all his seeds with the slingshot and the seed shooter - I never use scent seeds. Why do I still keep them with the rest? - and fishing out yet another shovel from the pile on the left, from between the different rods and canes. He knew he wanted to bring a backup to avoid the awkward situation from a week ago, when they were lacking in the equipment department but by Din this was an overkill.

Maybe they had a point. Maybe talking with Ravio distracted him too much after all…

“Why do you even have this many shovels? And why did you brin-? The question died on smithy’s lips at the murderous gaze Legend sent his way. “I’ll umm… I’ll be over there if you change your mind.”

With that, Four retreated to Sky and Hyrule on the other side of the camp, the three of them watching the whole ordeal from a safe distance.It didn’t mean he was left alone. Oh no. Far from that.

Read the rest on Ao3!