#apologies again to all my sane followers

[platoapproved]

not even ONCE have we gotten to see armand with blood smeared all over his face and neck.

[ajortga]

sequence of events

pairing: jenna ortega x crutched?! fem reader

word count: 1.6k+

authors note: thank you so much for 800 followers, i appreciate each and every one of you. <3. my writing did not clearly match the image i wanted but i love making your requests come to life.

-

based off request!

-

Hi, I just recently started reading your blog but I really like the way you describe feelings, it’s simply amazing and since requests are open, I would like to ask if you could make a fem! reader who is disabled and walks on crutches, but one day Jenna accidentally pushes her and the reader almost falls into the pool and after fluff I know it’s stupid, but if you don’t want to, don’t write, it’s just my request, if you write, thank you so much! Best wishes!

-

It was not a rare sighting whenever you would be the person to catch the sympathetic stares that people shot at you whenever you walked around just perfectly.

Well, perfectly fine with crutches.

It was like almost every single day that you walked, people would slightly move to the side and give you a small nod. Or maybe they would apologize a bit too much. You think it’s happened too many times for you to count anymore. 

Ever since you were little, your left foot was physically paralyzed. You couldn’t go anywhere without having people staring at you a bit too long for your comfort. You’ve just gotten used to it.

The worst part about it was not being able to kick your feet in the air happily whenever you read a rom com. God it stunk because you would smile widely and only your right foot would be swinging, which would cause you to accidentally knock something down on your bedside table.

With the sun of summer beginning to make its grand departure, Liz, one of your best friends, planned the whole day for you two to experience the “actual hot girl summer day.” 

The months before summer, every year you’d make a whole list, preferably 6 pages long of all the summer-y things you’d spend the summer doing. But every year you’d only cross out less than a fifth of your bucket list. 

You glide your sunscreen against your skin and to the slope of your nose and tuck your hair behind your ears while watching a show displayed on your laptop.

Once you’re finished, you slowly balance yourself on your crutches and make a call to Liz.

She picks up on the first ring as you squeak out a, “I’m ready!”

-

Liz 💐: i’m here under the tree 

You slowly crutch your way out of your house and to the spot Liz’s car was at. God, there was one time that you were walking to look for her and she jumped from the damn bushes, it made you scream so loudly and almost fall on your ass.

Of course you bring out your phone, zooming into her location from the Find My Iphone app, letting out a sigh of relief when you see that her phone was where she indicated. You stand still, elbowing your crutches before sliding your phone back in your pocket.

Your steps escalate a little quicker, your crutches picking up the pace as you glance at the bush you fell in almost 6 months ago. You hate that your driveway was always parked with random cars. Basically all your friends had to resort to another location. She was still pretty far, out of sight for now.

You bring out your phone when you feel it ring again, glancing down at what it said.

Liz 💐: you look like a monster on roblox that’s just bouncing in the same spot.

Okay, what? – You narrow your eyes, not understanding how she could’ve possibly seen-

Something emerges from the pushes as your friend pops out and screams, making you scream so loudly, then start cussing her out, threatening her with one of your crutches. How the hell did she manage to do it again?

“LIZ, I’M GOING TO FUCKING-”

-

Jenna was sitting against the chairs you would see at any community pool, reading her book about tips in life, sunglasses on.

Yes, it had taken you an hour later, with Liz having to frantically push you into her car and paying for the food you wanted, for you to be somewhat sane.

After a little bit of shopping and buying new books to make you relive a rom com story, Liz holds the door for you as you walk out to the pool. Jenna’s eyes raise to the noise, looking at the door and she swears you’re the most beautiful girl she’s ever seen. Her eyes would be cursed every time she closed her eyes, your face popping up every time she dreamt. It takes her a moment but she flares up in realization, because she’s seen you before! 

She met you once when she had bumped into you from one of the coffee shops. You both had talked for an hour straight. The freckled cheeked girl remembered how alive humanity felt for her the next couple of days because of that. You both were just talking about how the seasons were so intriguing. 

People being people made her feel good whenever she thought about life for the week following.

Her eyes trail over yours, then the pattern of your nose, the way the sun kisses your cheeks in just the right way. Your hair glows in the sun as soon as you step in the light, the breeze perfectly blowing against it. You were ethereal.

Wow, was all the brunette could think as she put down her book, losing all of her interest in it because you had taken all of it. That book was stinky dinky if it meant being able to say hi to you once again and somehow impress you. 

She got up and put the book into her bag, standing up and walking behind you. As she walked beside the pool, right in front of her, she took off her sunglasses. It would be awkward if you didn’t recognize her because she had them on. 

Once she took them off, she fiddled with the lens, her fingertips lightly brushing over it to get a speck of dust off.

Next thing she knew, her shoe had got caught against bumpy brick floors and she was falling face flat into you.

She squeals, trying to catch herself so she won’t fall straight against you, especially since you were unaware, your crutches holding you steady. 

You’re a bit too focused on your friend’s deep conversation to notice what was going on, until something slams right behind your back and straight up sends you flying into the pool with a scream.

“Oh my god!” Liz yells as you bend, crutches landing on the ground nicely. Unfortunately, it was the opposite case for you as you splash into the water, the coldness making you yell. You couldn’t move. You can’t swim, how the hell does someone swim if one leg doesn’t work, you cry out for help, spluttering out water as your working leg flaps uselessly up and down the water. 

“Liz! I can’t-”

What the fuck had Jenna just done? Immediately she used the stairs right where you were and crawled down, the life guard was way too busy talking to someone to even notice the commotion. God she couldn’t let you drown-

-

You were coughing, choking on water that did not feel good at all. Your chest felt tight and hurt like shit every time you breathed in deeply. Liz and the pretty girl you recognized from when you met her at the bookstore were yelling in your face, asking you questions that just sounded like gibberish.

“Are you bouquet?”

“Ho mice god!”

“How the bell bid chu mop sea urchin?”

What. The. Hell.

“I am so sorry!” The brunette says, wrapping you in a towel and setting your crutches to your sides. You were a little too busy admiring her freckles to be mad. “I just remembered you from the other day and wanted to say hi and I fucking tripped and-”

You blink, slapping your chest over and over again as you slowly grin, that probably looked a little foolish and silly. “ ‘Ts okay, it was an accident,” you mumble, voice a little croaky as the warmth from the sun soaks up your damp clothes.

It was definitely not okay to Jenna, she thinks you might have dived head first, because now you were looking at her and grinning. Shouldn’t you be upset? God you were all toothy and everything, oh god! Did she make you crack your brain?

She should not be thinking you looked like you just came out of a movie when she accidentally pushed you into the pool!

Jenna did not know what to do, just rubbing the towel that was marshmallowed over your body. Your friend looked like she was about to explode. 

-

Jenna, in fact, did make it up to you. Because an hour later three of you guys were getting Jamba Juice smoothies and tacos. 

“God, I swear I wasn’t trying to kill you,” She rambled, mouth a little full, you noticed the way that she always used her hands as an illustrator while talking. “I just wanted to see if it was you and ask how you were and-”

“Jenna, I swear it’s fine,” you brush off, sitting on the chair while Jenna was standing up, pacing back and forth. 

“It wouldn’t have been fine if you had died, Y/N!” Jenna and Liz speak at the same time, making you sip your smoothie. Seriously, you were fine. Your clothes were for the most part, dry, and it just was a struggle to take a deep breath at some moments.

“But.. If you want and are willing..” You trail off, squirming to grab your phone as you swipe it to your contacts and place it in Jenna’s hands with one of your eyebrows raised. 

“Deal!” She said, grinning as she booped her fingers into your phone.

It was a little late at night when you crawled into bed, your right foot taking lead as you hide under the covers. You and Jenna had texted for a while, and you just got another message.

Yay! You just got a Jamba Juice gift card from your friend, Jenna!

jenna the head cracker: juice

You almost cackle, immediately scrolling through gift cards and tapping on one that was just right.

Hooray! You just sent your friend Jenna the Head Cracker a non-trip shoe deal!

you: shoes

[eevees-hobbies]

I'M ON MY HANDS AND KNEES PLEASE DO SOMETHING WITH KAJI AND BITING

Content Warning: Mind the tags! MeanGirlReader x TiredOfYourShitRenKaji. Hate-fucking, toxic behavior, degradation, sex in a public place, but plot armor makes it ok, spitting and consumption of said spit, biting, cumming inside without consent. Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 1.3K

Banner by me.

Fun Facts:

If you’re sexually aroused by biting, you have a fetish called Odaxelagnia.

You probably like being bitten because you’re into pain, you sadomasochist.

It has been reported that half of all people are aroused from biting, so congrats, you’re not alone!

Kaji finds you so obnoxiously annoying that his lips curl upward into a scowl. He hates the way your eyes sparkle when you look at him–that irritating, mischievous glint shining brightly in your eyes right as he passes into your field of vision. He hates how you push his buttons with smart-mouthed remarks–every word passing through your lips laced with venom. And he especially hates how you can’t tell that he’s so in love with you that if you decided never to speak to him again, he’d choose to drop off the face of the planet.

But you were so goddamn rude, so fuck ever telling you that.

“I dunno, man. Maybe she’s one of those girls who likes their men a lil mean. It honestly sounds like you two need to bang it out.” 

Kaji gave Hiragi a deadpan stare after approaching his mentor for much-needed sage advice. Hearing him suggest that you wanted to be dicked down felt so off-base to Kaji, which was disappointing since Hiragi was usually right about everything.

But there must be an exception to that rule because the thought of you wanting to fuck him was simply:

Ridiculous.

Absurd. 

Unless? 

No! 

There’s no way you were into him. No sane person would act like you do if they liked someone.

So when Kaji finds himself at a dive bar where an underground death metal band is playing their heaviest set, his stomach churns with annoyance—and something else he’d rather not say aloud—as he sees you walk to the bathroom.

And maybe he was feeling a little brave—or stupid—that night. Because he followed in hopes that you both could squash whatever beef you had concocted in your head, and maybe he’d consider asking your dumbass out.

But as you exited the bathroom and he saw that shit-eating grin on your pretty face as your eyes met, he became painfully aware that, no, he was the actual dumbass.

“Kaji? You stalking me or…? Oh, wait,” you look behind you at the door to the restroom. “I get it. You wanted to watch me pee. I heard you might be into something like that.”

In a matter of seconds, anger consumed him, coursing through his veins like wildfire; all the negative interactions you two had, the snide comments, the poking, prodding, culminating into a very volatile climax.

“What’s your problem with me?!” Kaji doesn’t mean to grab your wrist so hard that you wince in pain—but he does. And he doesn’t mean to practically growl at you, his prominent canines on display as his lips curl upward—but he does. And he doesn’t mean to smash his lips against yours when he catches your eyes staring at his mouth—but he does. 

As the crowd in the next room thrash about in the mosh pit, Kaji is pulling your skirt up and spreading your legs by slotting his own between your thighs.

He tears his lips away from yours, chest heaving, and blue eyes blackened with rage.  “This what you wanted? To be fucked in some dive bar in some dirty ass hallway?”

If he didn’t find you absolutely reprehensible, he wouldn’t feel any shame in admitting how beautiful you look in the dimly lit hallway, lips swollen from his heated kiss, mouth slightly open, and dressed exactly like the type of girl who could run away with his heart.

You don’t immediately answer him, but your body is shaking, and for a moment, he feels as though he might have made a mistake. He’s about to withdraw and offer his apologies until he hears you cackling.

“Kaji, you think I’m scared of you? I eat little boys like you for breakfast.” Your tone is condescending, and any remorse Kaji feels for you dissolves along with his patience.

“What are ya gonna do, Kaji? Fuck the attitude out of me?”

Before he can talk himself out of it, he’s gripping your cheeks between his fingers. You try to gather enough strength to shake your head out of his grasp, but his fingers only dig in more, earning a hiss from you. And as you look at him, lips puckered in a delicious pout, Kaji accumulates as much saliva into his mouth as he can, and with two fingers prying your jaw open, he spits into your mouth. Globules of his spit land on your lips and tongue, sitting thickly and tasting like vodka.

And despite the hold he has on you, your eyes roll back as your clit seizes uncontrollably and your cunt drools.

He removes his hand from your face, repositioning it near your head against the wall so that he’s leaning into your orbit. 

“Swallow it.”

And he’s not fucking asking.

You make a show of swallowing his spit, gulping loudly as it slides down your throat, and then showing him your tongue.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, and you don’t even know how to ask for it.”

“I know how to ask, Ren.” Your hand snakes down to the bulge in his pants, and to his absolute horror, a moan bubbles out of his throat at your touch–it feels hot with want, and his brain is telling him that danger is imminent, but he can’t help but lean into the palm of your hand.

“So then ask. Nicely.”

You lick your lips, eyes hungry, and cunt the wettest it's ever been.

“Fuck me, Ren. Please, fuck me.”

“Good girl.” He unzips his pants, the sound making your heart palpitate wildly against your ribcage. As you reach down and pull your panties down your legs, you extend them to Kaji on the tip of your finger.

He sneers but takes the garment, placing it in his back pocket for future use.

You yelp as he picks you up, pushing your back against the wall as he lowers you on his cock. And there’s nothing gentle with the way he treats you. Not allowing your pussy to even adjust to his girthy cock as it rams into your tight, weeping hole.

He’s ramming into you, drumming thuds and sloppy, wet sounds echoing in the empty hallway, with only the sound of the concert drowning out the sounds of your grunts and whimpers.

You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, closing your eyes and savoring the feeling of him beating up your cunt. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!!”

“S-shut the fuck up and stop acting like you weren’t begging for this.”

Your eyes blow out as he sinks his canines into your neck, and despite the searing pain, you clench around him, your cum already coating his dick.

Kaji laughs against your neck. "You wanted to be treated like a hole? All you had to do was ask.”

He’s smashing his lips on yours again, but this time, you lead the kiss, gliding your tongue into his mouth. Your tongue dances over one of his canines, careful at first out of caution but then with reckless abandon as the sharp points of them embolden you, and Kaji groans at your forwardness.

It’s not long before Kaji can feel his balls clenching, his cum loaded in the chamber and ready to fire into you. And if this were any other situation, he’d pull out, choosing to cum somewhere far more convenient, but the idea of filling you up after all the shit you’ve given him and making you march back into the crowd without panties, and semen dripping down your leg makes him groan in your mouth and release hot, thick streams into your pussy.

Your body recoils at the feeling of his seed pouring into you, his cock throbbing as the ropes become smaller spurts until finally subsiding.

You slide down the wall as Kaji pulls away from you and pushes himself back into his jeans. He’s still scowling down at you. “Got that out of your system?”

You’re dazed, a little confused, and entirely giddy from the experience. “And if I say no?”

Kaji rolls his eyes, but he understands you now—he understands what you like and what you need, and he’s sure he can supply it to you moving forward.

[pressureplus]

Yandere Sebastian Solace Headcannons

Warning: Blood, Light gore, Murder, Stalking, Obsession, Marking/Biting, Actually Delusional, Like he’s actually crazy, It’s a Yandere…they’re not Sunshine and Rainbows

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

The moment he saw you, he knew he just had to have you. As if some kind of switch had flipped on in his brain that he didn’t know existed

Suddenly you were the center of his entire world. Every inch of it.

Everything you did became the reason he lived and breathed, following you became the only thing that kept him sane. Attempting to stop was detrimental to his mental health

So he settled for a healthy medium when he could, sneaking pictures of you while your back is turned

Finding that old camera has led to some very…interesting pictures of you being pinned onto a cork board in his room. Sometimes just standing, sometimes your face, sometimes your body.

Not that you know these pictures exist, of course

Sometimes he just stares at them, almost entirely unblinking, and runs his hands over the pictures like he can feel your skin

Sometimes he can’t help but to kiss the pictures of your face like you’re really there. Silly little thing, isn’t he?

In person? He doesn’t treat you any different at first. Though he gets noticeably more aggressive with people that get close to you

One day, trying to avoid Eyefestations gaze, you bumped into a desk really hard and your pants got caught on it. It left a sizable bruise and a tear in your pants

A jar of familiar eyeballs is left with your name on it outside the room you’ve been staying in down here

You never see Eyefestation again.

He insists on helping whenever you’re applying new bandages or using a medkit, the smell of your blood practically getting him drunk

He wants to bite you. He wants to eat you. He wants to kill you. He just wants to be a part of you, or inside you? As close as he can get to being you.

He loves you so much he wants to tear you apart limb by limb, wearing your bones like a crown and your beating heart like a necklace

He wants to be so entirely soaked in the smell of you, your blood, your clothes, that he cannot tell where he ends and you begin

But he could never dream of hurting you, not really, not like that. No, he’s better than the monsters down here, no matter how sweet your blood smells.

The odd version of cuteness aggression he has tells him to do all sorts of terrible things, it’s a good thing he has self-control

Keeps your used bandages. Dont ask what he does with them, you don’t want to know.

Probably steals clothes you’ve worn recently too if they smell like you…

He’s always watching you, and while you didn’t know about his little habits before, you probably catch on the first time he shoots one of your new friends

They hadn’t hurt you, yelled, they’d only tried to touch you. It was so quick too. The loud bang and a ringing in your ears as his gun produced a bit of smoke. He blows on it for a moment before holstering it. A mess of splattered remains on the ground as he smiled at you.

“My apologies, what were we talking about? Oh yes the batteries you wanted. That’s going to be about 50 data.”

“Y-You just killed someone right next to me. What was that even for?”

“Oh that? You’re right. You shouldn’t have had to see that. How about 30 instead?”

He’s started to pick off the people you talk with, the people you hang around. Leaving you in complete isolation from anything that isn’t him.

Don’t flash beacon him. He’ll say that it’s alright. That you’re just confused! He’ll crush it in his hand. The second time, however, he’ll leave the bruise of his hand wrapped around your arm when he tugs you forward and bites you

Some kind of punishment, you suppose, but it does leave a scar

One he’s going to obsess over

If you love him back that’s great! You’ll be treated a little nicer so long as you follow the rules. Nobody can touch you, nobody can be close to you, you’re not to make eye contact with anyone but him- oh and you must always sleep in his bed!

Despite what you may believe, it’s not for sexual purposes, he just wants his bed to smell like you

Still unstable and still an asshole, but on the plus side? You get babied and given gifts and kissed and protected!

You are his little treasure after all! Which means you get special perks

But if you don’t love him back, well…he doesn’t really care. It’ll just take time, soon you’ll see things his way, that’s all.

At least that’s what his delusional ass believes.

If he has to leave you chained up somewhere to keep you from getting hurt then he will. He’d hate to watch the light leave those beautiful eyes of yours.

And when he finally manages to escape he will drag you along whether you like it or not. Alone together out at sea, probably on some remote island.

Never letting you die. Never letting you leave. Never letting you be seen by the world.

His little treasure, forever, until the day you both die

Isn’t that romantic? He sure thinks so.

[suosgirl]

i can't stop thinking about your recent story 😩 it's so fluffy 💗 what if suo saves reader from thugs one day, as a gentleman as he is, suo accompanies her until she can finally go home safely. oh! then! they meet again unexpectedly in kotoha's cafe since the reader's classmate wants to buy a coffee. reader gave suo a chinese novel as a way of thanks since she notice that he likes chinese stuff due to his outfit then it made suo curious about her which led him to pinning at her but she's kinda dense HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

A Gentleman (& His Rambler) | Hayato Suo x Reader

Word Count: 4501

୨ৎ Read me before interacting!

୨ৎ Pairing: Hayato Suo x Reader feat. brief (very brief) mentions of Haruka Sakura and Akihiko Nirei

୨ৎ Song Inspiration: Talk Too Much - Reneé Rapp

୨ৎ Warnings: mdni, fluff, f!reader, ooc (definitely ooc sorry ah), angst (?), harassment, insecurities, swearing, kissing, 1 oblivious idiot and 1 lovesick idiot – if I’ve missed one, I apologize + please let me know!

୨ৎ Note: Oh my goodness this was such a fluffy and cute idea ahhh!!! Thank you for the request (and so sorry that it took so long ahh)!! Definitely took a lot of liberties with this (f!reader is written as a college student) but I hope you enjoy the story (and I hope it was somewhere in the ballpark of what you were thinking of hehe)!!!! Additional notes: I wasn’t too comfortable with just writing down any old novel, so I did a bit of research on my end and wrote it in a way that made sense to me as well as Suo’s character! So sorry if this wasn’t really what you had in mind, but I think it flows fairly well with the story so I hope that it makes sense for you as well! ♡

In your defense, at least you talked about things that were interesting. At least, you had thought so, but the puzzled looks on your assailant's faces beg to differ. It’s funny, when Suo comes across the men harassing you, he knows that you’re in trouble – but instead of taking the time to maybe scream for help or yell at them to go away, you’re instead in the middle of explaining differential equations to them.

You hated this. You weren’t even supposed to be walking home alone.

But, when duty calls (the duty being your friend having to beg their professor for a grading curve), well – you make do with what you’ve got. 

You could’ve stayed, and right now, you think that you should’ve stayed, but you were never a patient person – so, determined and tenacious, you start your short journey back home. 

You’re counting on making quick work of the stroll, maybe stopping by the corner store to pick up some snacks and a well-deserved coffee, before finally bunkering down to start the copious amount of research that you’ve been putting off.

What you aren’t counting on, though, is for a group of guys to start following you just a little after you leave campus.

You don’t count on them running after you once you speed your walk up to a run.

And, you don’t count on them to corner you in an alley when you ignore their pleas of “slow down” and “we just wanna talk”.

They drive you into a corner, and you shrink under their outraged eyes and towering frames.

You’re absolutely fucked, and you know it.

Your mind short circuits, and you freeze – one hand on the strap of your bag, and the other clamped around your phone.

You know what you should do. You should threaten to call the authorities, you should start crying for help, you should try to make a dash past all of them to freedom.

But, you’re you, so…

Like any sane person – you start talking.

Despite the tears that are threatening to fall from your eyes and the wobble in your knees, you start telling these harassers about how your classes went, the textbooks you purchased (at an outrageous price, might you add), the quiz that you failed, and the project that you have due in a couple of days.

And – you can’t help it. It’s not like they knew what they were signing up for when they chased you, but you’re sure that if they did, then the thought wouldn’t have even crossed their minds.

On all accounts, you didn’t think your rambling was even that bad, and honestly, you rarely ever did it.

(This is all pure speculation on your end, by the way.)

But you know how some people are just gifted? How some things just come naturally to them? 

…Yeah. That was you. Would some say that you simply don’t have a filter? Maybe. Would others say that you talk at the speed of light? Perhaps.

In your defense, at least you talked about things that were interesting. At least, you had thought so, but the puzzled looks on your assailants faces beg to differ.

It’s funny, when Suo comes across the men harassing you, he knows that you’re in trouble – but instead of taking the time to maybe scream for help or yell at them to go away, you’re instead in the middle of explaining differential equations to them. 

And what’s silly is that it works – you’ve got them standing there scratching their heads as they try to just keep up with you, and you …

Well, Suo drinks in the sight of you. 

It’d be hard not to – not with the way that you’re moving your hands in earnest with your words or the way your brows are scrunching up in agitation.

Wisps of your hair have escaped the haphazard bun you’d done earlier that day, and your face has a glowing, rosy flush to it.

And your lips – 

Well, Suo’s never had the urge to kiss a stranger, but… 

With the way that they part pretty with every word, and the occasional peek of the tip of your tongue as you lick them, Suo can’t say that he would say no if you so chose to reward him for his hard work with a press of your lips to his.

And, from what he can gather, you really hate differential equations.

It’s captivating, really.

Besides… Suo’s always been fairly weak to charming little things like you.

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

You’re not sure how or even when (as your body is still in fight or flight mode and your mouth is still going) but eventually, there’s only one person standing in front of you – and it’s a stranger.

A kind, attractive stranger who’s just saved you.

And now, he’s comforting you, voice soft and smile gentle as he tells you that everything's okay now.

But you… well, you’re inconsolable. 

Not because you’ve just experienced a traumatic incident, no.

It’s because, well, you’ve just yapped like your life depended on it, in front of a man who had not only saved you, but also witnessed said incessant talking.

Embarrassed doesn’t even begin to explain the way that you feel right now.

You do your best to thank him in a polite and brief manner before going on your merry way, but he can see the way you’re gripping your bag and walking with a slight sway to your step.

And it would be rude, right? To let you walk home all alone? After experiencing something like this?

At least, that's what Suo tells himself before he sends Sakura and Nirei a quick message that he’ll be running late to meet with them.

Always the gentleman, Suo catches up with you and offers to walk you home.

The request catches you off guard more than you’d like to admit, so much so that all you can do is shyly nod with wide eyes when he asks if you’d like him to hold your school bag as well.

There’s a slight brush of your fingertips as you hand the bag to him, and you feel it coming.

You know what’s about to happen, but there’s no way in hell that you can stop what’s already begun.

And you, always the rambler, start talking about everything and anything that you can think of just to fill the silence between you.

He had chalked down your reaction earlier to being in a heightened state of panic, but, as he escorts you home, he realizes that – no, this is just how you are.

And it’d be a lie if he didn’t find it endearing.

When you’re delivered safe and sound, you promise to get him a gift to show your gratitude but he waves it off, saying that you don’t have to go out of your way to do so.

(He doesn’t tell you that he’d much rather just be in your company to see what else will spill from your pretty lips.)

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

You, however, weren’t one to let something like that go — especially for the person who’d saved you. You don’t catch his name (which is shocking because how did you forget to ask him such an important question amongst everything else), but that doesn’t discourage you – If there’s one thing that you are, it’s stubborn.

And also talkative.

You begin asking around, from your friends to your neighbors to even store employees, trying to get as much information about him as you can. 

You learn his name, that he’s a part of Bofurin (figures), that he enjoys drinking tea, and that he has an affinity for Chinese-styled clothing. But beyond that, the trail goes cold. It seems that he’s someone who keeps his tastes close to heart, so you’ve got no other choice but to work with what little you’ve learned.

Almost immediately, you tick off any tea related gifts in your mind. You ran exclusively on iced coffee and pure adrenaline, so – yeah. You definitely did not have the necessary judge of character needed to distinguish tea blends.

But! You don’t let that little roadblock deter you. Stubbornness can work wonders.

You rack your brain for what feels like ages on what gift could suit a man as mysterious as him, but a girl can only muse for so long – and you weren’t happy with any of your ideas thus far.

You could get him clothes, but you don’t know his size. You could treat him to a meal, but your sources tell you that he’s rarely ever seen eating. You could get him jewelry cleaner for his earrings, but you’re not quite sure of the materials that are in them.

It isn’t until you’re stuck in the campus library during one fateful cram session that it hits you – literature.

It suited him! It was the best of both worlds, you thought. It was heartfelt, and also of substance for a man of his caliber. And – it made sense!

(This also could’ve been an act of procrastination on your part, but you feign ignorance.)

You spend about half of an hour speaking to the librarian about what Chinese books get borrowed the most, and the other half scouring over the internet for recommendations and book reviews.

What you land on, after extensive research that really should’ve been spent on school (but whatever), is a book called “The Book of Songs: The Ancient Chinese Classic of Poetry”.

According to the librarian, this book is loaned at least once to twice a month, which is surprising considering that it’s not a required text for any of your school’s courses. What you take away from this, though, is that it’s popular. 

And when you see the 4.6 out of 5 rating, well – 

The people don’t lie. At least, you assume so. The librarian had also said that this was a classic for anyone interested in Chinese literature, and who were you to deny the suggestions of a clear expert in the matter?

And, when you slip in a handwritten note of yet another “thanks” with your number and name in the cover of the book, well, who could blame you?

You just wanted to know his thoughts on the book – that’s all.

Really.

But the thing is that you haven’t got the slightest clue on how to give it to him.

He wasn’t at Furin High anymore, so that wasn’t a solution. And – you weren’t so desperate to ask around for his address, so you find yourself stuck between a rock and a hard place.

So what do you do?

Like any sane person – you keep it in your book bag.

Eventually, right? Eventually, you’ll see him again, and you can just drop it in his hands before scurrying away like the little shy bumblebee you are. And if he doesn’t message you back? Hey – no worries! You’ll just do everything in your power to erase the interaction from your mind until your inevitable passing of old age!

Good god, you were starting to ramble in your head now.

‘Eventually’ becomes a safety word for you of sorts. It means the inevitable future, that’ll come sooner or later.

You just didn’t know that it would be today.

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

When your friend asks you to meet at Café Pothos after class so that you can get coffee, you answer with an immediate and desperate yes. 

But – 

Whether it was due to the all nighter you had pulled the night before, or the overwhelming workload you had been saddled with over the course of the past couple days – you’re not sure, but you swear that your eyes are playing tricks on you.

Because, lo and behold, sitting at the counter with the afternoon glow illuminating his side profile perfectly, is Suo.

And you feel all the air escape your lungs.

Your friend calls your name from a table just a little further into the café, but you can’t move – not with his gift weighing so heavy in your bag.

It isn’t until one of Suo’s friends, one with black and white hair, is nudging Suo with his shoulder and tilting his chin in the direction of you.

“Ya got someone staring – do you know ‘em?”

When Suo turns to you, eye wide with surprise and his mouth just slightly parted, you can’t help but feel like a moron because – you’d forgotten just how handsome he really is.

And when he gets up from his chair to meet you in the café’s doorway, you try to bite back the words that are already forming at the tip of your tongue. 

“Oh, it’s you! It’s been a while since I last saw you – Sorry, I didn’t get your name last time. What was it?”

You take a deep breath in, willing the monstrosity that’s your mouth to calm down just the slightest. 

Just one question. He just asked one question. Even a grade school child could answer this without getting distracted. You could absolutely do this.

You, with all the willpower that you can muster, let your name flow out before immediately clamping down on your tongue.

But then, Suo tilts his head in a playful manner as he lets your name roll off his tongue, as if practicing it for future use, and at that point, even cement would serve powerless against the impulse of your mouth.

And you break.

“Ah! By the way – remember when I said I would get you a gift? You know, for saving me last time? That was so scary, haha, and I just wanted to thank you again for helping me out that day. I got you this poetry book, I hope you like it! I wasn’t sure what you’d like, and I didn’t know what else I could get you, but this has really good reviews! I even spoke to my school librarian about it! 4.6 out of 5, can you believe that? So, I hope it lives up to the praise, haha, but let me know if it doesn’t! If it doesn’t, well, I’m sure I can find something else for you… by the way, I –”

Okay, so you couldn’t do it.

You’re interrupted by the low whistling of one of Suo’s friends, and you blink rapidly before throwing your hand over your mouth.

But Suo, well – 

He’s looking down at you with a hint of fondness in his eye, but you wouldn’t know that, not with the way that your gaze is glued to the floor.

You did it again, and this time, with an audience. 

Briefly, you wonder if it’s too late for you to ask for the book back so that you can pathetically stuff your note into your pocket – and then burn it later.

But the book’s already in his hands, and the words have already left your mouth.

“... I think I talk too much,” you mumble as you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, suddenly very well aware that Suo’s barely said less than 30 words compared to your whopping 124.

This wasn’t what you had wanted, but you just couldn’t help it.

He laughs, though, and goes to gently pat your head.

“Maybe so…”

He pats twice, before trailing the tips of his fingers gently down the side of your face.

“... but I’m a good listener.”

He ends his words with a playful tap of his finger to the tip of your nose, but all you can do is gape in response.

God, he really was just way too nice.

(He was not, in fact, just being nice – but you’d find this out much, much later.)

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

To your surprise, Suo actually likes hanging out with you. Or at least, that’s what he says, but you’re not so sure. Not when you’re doing most of the talking, and he’s leaning his chin on his hand as he listens. 

Sometimes, and you hate when you do this, but you wonder if he’s just taking pity on you.

You don’t like to think about it too much, don’t like to feed the insecurity that dwells deep in your heart, but sometimes, you can’t help it.

And it’s not like you’ve never heard it before – the comments of “you’re so loud” or “do you ever breathe?” or, and this is your personal favorite, “you talk too much.”

Because yeah – you know, you’re aware.

It’s easy to laugh it off, and you do every time, but when you’re alone at night, with just you and your thoughts, you can’t help but create a daily habit – 

One where you replay everything that you’ve said that day, and you try to critique yourself.

Oh, I spoke too much during that – I’ve got to tone it down. 

Yikes, I got a little loud there – I need to speak softer.

Oops, I went on a tangent – I need to cut myself off.

And honestly? This habit becomes your bread and butter, despite how detrimental you know it is. Because the reality is, you’d much rather hear it from yourself than others.

But, being with Suo – 

Well, he doesn’t let you. 

Doesn’t let you tone it down, or speak softer, or cut yourself off.

Because he’s just as invested in what you’re saying as you are – and the feeling of that is …

“Tell me more – I’m listening.”

“I can’t hear you love, can you speak up?”

“Why’d you stop? It was just getting interesting.”

Well, it’s indescribable to you.

And, he does this soft little hum as he listens to you, and everytime, everytime it has you stumbling over your words just the slightest.

(You don’t catch the way that the corners of his lips perk up at the sound.)

And suddenly – you don’t have to bite back your tongue around him anymore. 

You can just be you, with no restrictions, no second guessing, no worries.

“I don’t get it,” you admitted once during one of your walks around your neighborhood (you’d needed a break from studying, and luckily, he just happened to be in the area for patrol), “I’m only like this when I’m around you.”

Suo laughs, and you feel your chest tighten just a bit at the sound, because his laugh was, well – 

The only word you can use to describe it is addictive.

And it always, always left you with butterflies in your stomach.

“That’s okay – I’d prefer it, actually.”

Your steps falter at his words, and he continues.

“I’d prefer if you’re only like this around me.”

That night, you’re left at your doorstep with rosy cheeks – and you’re 100% sure that it’s not due to the humid summer weather.

But you had to give it to him – he really was a good listener.

And, he had great memory.

Most of the time, you’d only really understand and process half the words that fly out of  your mouth, but Suo was able to process all of it.

If you absentmindedly mentioned that you’d really liked the coffee at this one café in Makochi, he’s asking if you’re free the coming weekend so that he can try their assortment of tea.

And when the cashier asks if you both are together, you innocently answer with a cheerful yes and fall into a tangent about how you’d loved their drinks so much that he’d wanted to try them too and now you’re both here to hang out and try more of their menu!

Suo doesn’t find it necessary to clarify what the cashier actually meant – not with the way that your answer sounds so right to him. 

Because yes, you were together, even if you yourself weren’t aware of it yet.

(A hangout in your eyes. A date in his.)

If you had an upcoming deadline, Suo was always diligently checking in with you. He’d send a text every couple of days, asking how it’s going and the efforts that you’ve made towards it – and you have to admit that while it was helpful, it was also extremely unnecessary.

Unnecessary only because you enjoyed procrastinating, but with a man like this, you simply couldn’t.

…

Okay, fine – so maybe you don’t have as many sleepless nights because you’re well ahead of your projected timeline. So maybe you spend less time cramming for tests because you’ve already reviewed the practice exam like three times. So maybe you’re able to lower your overall stress levels by actually adhering to the plans that you’ve set up for yourself.

So what?

It’s… it’s not like that was a problem before, right?

It absolutely was – but again, you’re stubborn, remember?

(Nagging in your eyes. Thoughtfulness in his.)

And, it’s during one of your “hangouts”, that Suo presses his luck.

He should’ve known, really, that it’d go through one ear and out the other, but he blames it on his unrivaled, optimistic spirit – and maybe just a smidge of wishful thinking.

Because introducing you as his special girl should’ve raised some flags in your mind, right?

It should’ve made you wonder – hm, why am I Suo’s special girl?

He swears he can see the gears turning in your head. 

But you’re you, so you take whatever it is that you thought it meant and you run with it.

And now, you’re introducing yourself to all of the past Bofurin members as his best friend, which – 

Not completely off base, but not at all what he was expecting from the situation.

And, when a couple of them send eyes of sympathy in his direction, all he can do is force a strained smile as he guides you, with his hand on your waist, to yet another group of people who will undoubtedly follow suit.

(Kindness in your eyes. Affection in his.)

At this point, you’re sure that he could read you like an open book – and he can.

He can read you so well, in fact, that he knows that you’re as dense as they come.

Because for months, Suo’s been playing the long game.

He’s been taking you out on dates, showering you with affection, and basically professing his devotion – all to show you what a great partner he could be for you.

But you – adorable, clueless, dense you. You just couldn’t quite get the hint, could you?

So, when Suo has to pull out the big guns to really get it through your thick skull (he thinks this in an affectionate way, he swears) – well, you only have yourself to blame.

Because how could someone so perfect be so damn oblivious?

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

“You’re aware that I have feelings for you, right?”

You’d been stargazing for the past 10 minutes, fingers just barely touching as you’re both splayed out on the blanket laid out below you.

It was supposed to be a fun little hangout as you celebrate the end of the quarter, but now, you’re starting to realize that maybe, just maybe – 

You blink, before sitting up.

He repeats his words, slower now, while rising up with you.

You blink again, slower now, as your brain processes what he’s just said.

It takes all of about 5 seconds before you open your mouth, ready to default back to your factory settings of rambling but –

Nothing comes out.

Suo had managed to stun you into silence for the first time in your life with less than 10 words.

And, judging by the pleased smile on his lips and the glint in his eye – he knows this.

This was a golden opportunity, after all. So, Suo takes advantage of it while he can.

Whether this is revenge for the past couple of months though, he’s not sure – but, he always was fairly petty.

“You’re so silly, you know that love?”

Your mouth, still open, can only close in response.

He presses on.

“You are, and this isn’t a compliment, the most oblivious person I’ve ever fallen for.”

Your breath hitches at his words.

“You never once left my mind after our first meeting – and when I saw you again at the café, well, I thought it was fate. It had to be – because how was I lucky enough to get to meet you again?”

You bite your tongue, this time not to hold back your words, but instead, to try and get your mouth to start working again.

“And it’s funny – because I managed to fall for someone who can capture the attention of strangers with just mere words, but somehow can’t see that I’ve been following them around like a lost, lovesick puppy since the day we crossed paths.”

You’re at a loss for why your mouth still won’t move.

“So if this still isn’t enough for you to finally see how deeply I feel for you, then I’m not sure what else I can do that’s still within the bounds of being a gentleman because –”

And finally, finally you’re able to cut him off – with a soft press of your lips to his cheek.

“... I‘m sorry Suo … but I think ... you talk too much.”

What can you say? You were never a patient person – and right now, with his feelings finally so clear to you, well… 

You were an idiot. To think, you could’ve done that so much earlier.

It takes him a second to process your words, cheek still reminiscing the brief contact of your lips on his skin, but – 

He gazes down at you, with a coy smile on his face and mirth in his eyes – and you can see it so clearly on his face, that feeling of triumph.

Because although he’d spent the past couple of months yearning for your affection, he wasn’t prepared for how rewarding it would be when you finally reciprocated.

“I suppose you’re rubbing off on me.”

Then, as an afterthought, he adds –

“I’m suddenly feeling very talkative. Will you, by any chance, be using that method to silence me right here?”

And when he taps on his lips with his finger, well – 

You weren’t dense enough to not understand what he was asking for.

And this time, when your lips meet his, he’s ready.

He snakes one arm around your waist to pull you onto his lap, with the other cupping the side of your face, and you melt.

It’s soft and drawn out and perfect, with both your lips parted just so – and there’s only one word that runs through both of your minds when you kiss.

Finally.

And, when your lips part, your bodies don’t. Instead, Suo presses his forehead against yours, and you feel your eyes flutter at the gesture.

God, you really were an idiot.

“By the way – that book you gave me, I realize now that I never got to let you know how much I liked it.”

You blink at his words, still in a daze from his lips on yours.

“How did you know that was my favorite book?”

You furrow your brows at his words, because you did not know that.

And Suo knows that you didn’t – but he continues.

Because, well, what can he say? You really were rubbing off on him.

“I loan it every month through one of my friends in Bofurin. Although, it’s nice to have my own copy now – especially since it’s from you.”

[hiramaris]

Kiss It Off Me

CHAPTER 1

Summary:

A story revolving around the newly arrived resident farmer in the eyes of the personified perfection, the sunflower of Pelican Town herself, Haley. Or. When Haley finally met the person that caused ripples in what was once a stagnant town, and she didn’t know how to handle such massive change.

Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer

Notes:

Haley's heart events are just soooo wifey, especially after marriage. Her character development is well written off but I just can't help but notice that something is missing, like the heart events are just not that connected in some way. Stardew is an absolute gem don't get me wrong. I'd like to try and connect what I think is missing which is the reason this fic is created. P.S. Second try in making fanfiction. I apologize for any future grammatical errors or whatever. English is not my primary language.

Disclaimer:  I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: None so far? Just Haley being her usual self

Gif from reddit.com

Winter 25

Immobile.

Stagnant.

Bland.

What words could possibly do justice to describe this sleepy town? Pelican Town had its charms sure. It’s peaceful, the air is fresh, and would never choke you on your sleep plus it gives a really nice tan so Haley wouldn’t really complain. 

But it was just so... boring. Was that the right term?

The people are meh, nosy, and just as bland but they are good neighbors though don't get her wrong. They look after them— her and Emily when their parents can’t. 

Ugh.

Them again. Thinking about them just makes her angry— blood boiling and all that, and well… sad which is infuriating.

How can you just leave your kids just to go follow your own dreams and travel? And then act like you care just by sending some half-hearted letter? Sending a letter now and then was hardly enough to make up for their absence. How low could that be?

Emily doesn’t think so. But what does she know? Her cooking was as bland as the town, and her obsession with crystals and hippie clothes was just plain ridiculous. She knows nothing. 

Her sister is anything but pessimistic. She saw the light in everything whereas Haley ever saw them through the lens of her camera.

Capturing a single moment in a photograph was a thousand times more vivid and alive than the bleak and colorless reality she was currently living in.

She should be in college right now, pursuing her dreams, being the center of attention, and having boys falling over themselves to impress her. Or she would have been running her own photography studio by now in a city that never sleeps, schmoozing with some famous photographers and carving a niche for herself in the cut-throat world of photography.

But no, because here she was, stuck in a six-mile drive from the nearest city, life as directionless as the people in here.

Why am I even staying here? She wonders.

Oh, yeah— grandma.

This house is hers. Her house is the only thing that made her feel that Grandma is still here, with them. Even though Haley is talking big about leaving this town, she knew to herself that she doesn’t have the strength to just leave it just like that. Which is why they both tried to keep it tidy and well... avoiding it from falling apart.

Aside from that, there was nothing to do here. The only things keeping her sane were her camera, her phone, and the clothes she ordered online.

Oh, and of course, her best friend, Alex.

He's the only one— aside from Emily and of course, the Mullner residence, Granny and George are good people even though George is grumpy all the time,  that she's able to have a decent conversation. She and Alex are, after all, not the sharpest tool in the shed, and shared almost the same brain cell.

He’s that typical jock boy, ripped as hell but in terms of brain, well… meh. Not like Haley's any better so who is she to judge?

They went to the same school, belonged to the same clique, and were both popular, of course. He’s here to practice his grid ball or whatever but Haley knew better.

Alex, despite being the dungus that he is, has a lot on his plate already. He needs the peace this town can offer.

And maybe, maybe I need it, too.

Maybe being away from the city has a good cause, despite her constant complaints, this town has been her home for the past six years after all.

But she just really couldn’t help but dwell on this stupid thought of hers of being stagnant and directionless at this time of the year.

Winter.

Ugh. It’s stupidly cold outside and there’s no way she’s walking in six-inch snow just to get a quality photo, which isn’t much considering the lighting outside does not satisfy her at all. The only, and probably one good thing about winter is peppermint coffee. It's hot, minty, and makes her feel warm while making her mouth worthy of being sucked on— err... that's a want that cannot be sated as of the moment.

The bachelors in this town suck for real. They are not even worthy of a single glance. Apart from Alex, of course, but he's a friend so... no.

And what's made it double suck is that she ran out of peppermint coffee. Pierre is out of stock and there's no way she'll let herself be caught alive inside that creep manager's store that runs Joja or whatever. 

Now she's stuck sitting at the table, devouring a massive pink cake that could feed an entire family, enduring a coffee so bland it makes her want to try and drink tea.

She hates tea.

Oh yeah, she's also holding a note and a sunflower in her other hand. 

She doesn't want to read the letter but considering the gifts she just received, it’s probably just the same lame-ass apology about being unable to be here on her birthday this coming Spring 14th. Not that it mattered anymore; it had been two years of absence, and she had grown used to it by now.

With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the note onto the table, debating whether to toss it into the fireplace or tear it to shreds or whatever.

If it's just another excuse, she doesn’t want to hear it.

"Haaaay!" And there's a familiar voice. 

"If you don't have peppermint coffee with you I swear to Yoba—"

"What's the case, long face?" he quipped. "And no, I don't have anything with me."

She looked up from her cake, finding Alex strolling in their kitchen with one of his shit-eating grins, hair covered with a concerning amount of snow. She grimaced. "Sometimes I wonder why I'm friends with you."

He feigned a hurt expression. "I thought you loved me though."

"According to gossip, maybe but really, I don't," she deadpanned. 

He cackled at the mention of that. At the center of the gossip mill passing down from Marnie, Jodi, and Caroline, maybe Robin, too, and probably all the yoga club, is he and Haley dating. Which was absurd, to be honest.

"No, really, Hay." He finally turns serious. "What's up? What's got your face looking like that?" 

"It's just the stupid climate." Haley tried to lie. She didn't want to stir up drama at the moment. Alex frowned, catching up with her lie almost immediately. He caught sight of the letter Haley threw earlier. "Alex don't—"

Too late. He already got it. He sat down next to her as he read the contents of the note, his brows furrowing in what she assumes is annoyance. "Parents, huh? Same old, same old?" He raised an eyebrow.

Haley huffed and snatched the letter away. "Yes, the usual."

"Well." Alex propped his elbow on the backrest, a sly grin returning to his face. "I just got the perfect news that might take your mind off things."

Haley arched a perfect eyebrow, curious. Gossip wasn't his usual forte.

"Spill." 

"A new farmer is coming to town."

Haley's fork paused in mid-air. "Uh... I'm not sure how to react to that, and what's so great about it?"

His smile widened. "I heard she's from Zuzu City."

"I'm sorry, what?" 

"Why? Surprised another Zuzu native is coming here?"

"No, you dungus." She slapped his hand attempting to take a slice of her cake. "I heard you correctly, right? You said the farmer's a she? A girl is taking over that farm?"

"Yes," Alex confirmed, finally snagging a bite of cake. Haley makes a scrunched face in mock disgust. "The farmer's a she. Old man Railey's granddaughter actually. What's the problem though?" he asked in mouthfuls.

Haley stood up to grab another spoon. No way she's getting his imaginary cooties. Alex doesn't seem to mind; it only further encourages him to eat some more.

"Because it’s weird," she said as she sat down. "Farming isn't exactly a girl's job, especially for a city girl like her. I bet you she wouldn't last a month."

"Not all girls are like you, Hay— ow! What's that for?!" He rubbed his ribs where Haley just nudged with her boniest elbow of all time.

"As I was saying before being rudely interrupted." She rolled her eyes. "Farming is all dirt and nasty, smelly clothes. That farm was barely run by old man Railey before he died. What could possibly a city girl like his granddaughter could do with that rundown farm? I bet you it’s already smoldering by now."

"Good point," Alex said as he continued eating. Haley swear to Yoba all this idiot does is eat and relax in here.

He has a diet, right? So does she, and they're like eating a fat block of sugar right now.

Whatever. Pink cake has always been an exemption from all her seasonal dietary plans.

"But I guess we'll have to wait and see; don't you think so?" Alex turned to her after a few moments of silence. "I heard she's around our age. If it's true that farming is as difficult as they say, the least we can do is make her feel welcomed."

Haley barely nods in acknowledgment. 

This town is like a pond, where everything that enters stays and everyone already there remains. The city is a raging storm with ocean waves ready to swallow you if you go against the flow. A lot of people there has a sense of direction, one Haley aspires to have, and what Pelican lacks. You can't, at all costs, be still and unmoved and some people just couldn't do that.

And those people who couldn't stand the pressure, come here, like a moth drawn to a flame, seeking the mundanity Pelican Town could offer them. Perhaps they have grown weary of the constant hustle and bustle. Maybe city life has been too much. Maybe modern life has been too much for this farmer.

Who knows?

But one thing Haley doesn't like, and what keeps her unmoved and still, is change. Adapting, and adjusting isn't meant for her. It took years before she could finally settle a lifestyle in this town, and another two years of adjustment when her parents decided it would be a good idea to abandon them and go travel. She knew where to go, where townspeople go just so she could avoid interacting with them, she accustomed herself to their culture, and the perfect spots for taking pictures. She has it all memorized and planned out perfectly.

And this farmer will be an anomaly to her perfectly (not as perfect as she thought) crafted routine. New face, a new attitude, and just an overall new person she might be obligated to talk to for the sake of introduction.

Pelican is a stagnant pond, yet this farmer, this alien to her world, she's not yet even here but she is already starting to cause ripples.

And Haley doesn't know what to think of it.

~~~~~

Next

Notes:

The title was inspired by Cigarettes After Sex' Kiss it off me. Their songs are such *chef's kiss* and whilst I was listening to this song, it kind of, sorta, reminded me of how my farmer sees her wife. Thus kabooOm this fic is born

Edit: Because I'm procrastinating and I made sure to finish off my other story first, I decided now to transfer this story from Ao3 to Tumblr

[kachowden]

Yandere Ex & Reader? Hell yeah.

Tw: Harassment, physical assault (not towards reader), weirdo behavior, Chris is a dickhead, suggestive mentions.

His skin prickled aggressively. Teeth clenched together, grinding against their own enamel.

“Christophe? man? You seein anyone new recently?”

His eyes trailed listlessly to the right of him. Nick wasn’t anything special in his mind. Average teen with slightly above average looks in the eyes of the campus. A constant pain in his as, but- useful. Very useful.

“You know I’m not. And don’t call me Christophe.” His tone did little to hide his irritation, though Nick seemed oblivious to it. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

“Yeah yeah whatever man. Does that mean you’ve gotten over that Ex of yours?”

Christophe’s shoulders tensed violently.

“So they’re on the market then right?”

“Fuck yeah dude!”

Two other members of their group laughed crudely, their names so insignificant that Christophe hadn’t made the effort to remember them. They weren’t useful.

His brows furrowed deeply in agitation, and he was quick to shoot the two teens a burrowing glare. “You shut your fucken mouth.”

Nick laughed awkwardly, patting the fuming blonde on the back. “Now now Chris…they’re just messing with ya…”

One of the other members didn’t seem to agree, his own confrontational personality showing light as he crossed his arms moodily. “I don’t see why your panties are in a twist. Last time I checked you two broke up sophomore year. Don’t you think it’s about time you move on and let the rest of us have a taste?”

The moronic teen made a crude hand gesture towards his friend, who seemed to recognize the tension in the air, and made the wise decision to glance away from the act.

Smart move on his end.

The thud of a body against tile echoed the empty corridor, the perverse male choked and sputtered against the hand that crushed his throat.

“I’d watch my tongue if I were you. With all the shit you spew I’m surprised someone hasn’t cut it out yet and saved the rest of us the headache.”

Blue eyes stared at brown eyes, so dark they looked black, and made quick work to try and wiggle his way out of Christophe’s hold.

“F-fuck Off-!” A fist in his gut made him nearly hurl, his eyes straining and bugging painfully in his sockets from the blood rising to his face. His stomach heaved incessantly, and at this rate he found he might die from asphyxiation on his own bile. Not that he knew what asphyxiation was.

Christophe watched boredly.

“D-dude chill out-“ the other nameless tried to de-escalate the situation, but was quick to stop when he saw the look in Christophes eyes. “J…just say sorry man..” that was directed at the pinned idiot, his smart mouthed friend.

The blue faced male was sane enough to try and spew out an apology, it sounding disgustingly gurgled, though it was the best he could manage while on the verge of passing out. Christophe sneared, dropping the male to the floor.

The blue eyed teen landed to the floor with a heaving thud, his body contracting in its vicious attempts to breath again, his buddy sliding next to him and trying to keep him alive.

“Let’s go.”

Christophe’s indifferent tone was appealing at best, as he made his way down the corridor.Nick was quick to follow.

“You think they’ll snitch?”

A scoff.

“No. He’s stupid. Not suicidal.”

————-

There you were. Mindlessly reading. Fitting, since you were in a library.

This had become routine for Chris.

He found it in himself to admit he could stare at you for hours. And he had before.

It wasn’t hard too. What drew him to you now was the same thing that drew him to you before.

You were so….you. It was weird in a painfully charming way.

You were such a normal person. You had your own quirks, like everyone did. But you didn’t stand out. You weren’t popular. You weren’t a social outcast either. You were just…kinda there.

It was enthralling at the best of times. Irritating at the worst. Perfect at most.

He could acknowledge that your normalcy was intoxicating. Especially in his day to day life.

Christophe would never acknowledge however, the way he still clung to the sight of you after all these years. That your departure from him had affected him as much as it did. That would be soul crushing. Because it meant you still had power over him, which he very much knew you did. But he’d never admit it. Even to himself. He’d die parading it as some morbid interest in your breaking point. In his desire to study you like a lab rat. Someone he’d poke at until he got the reaction he wanted.

And he always got what he wanted.

But even then. Even if he claimed that, his interest in you was not romantic. Was not what it once was years ago.

Your skin looked so empty now, and he physically ached with the desire to leave marks on it like he once did.

He knew deep down he was lying.

The staring quickly became unsatisfactory, and with little hesitation he made his way over to your table, his hand slamming beside yours as he hovered over you, a cruel grin stretched on his lips.

“Looks like the nerd decide to hang out in its natural habitat today.”

“…..”

He fucken hated when you ignored him.

“Your friends finally ditch you Y/n? Surprised it took this long.” He didn’t mean that. If your friends had any sense they’d never leave you alone.

“Go away Christophe.”

Fuck.

He loved it when you said his name. Something primal always sprang forward, and you were none the wiser to being the only one who could call him that without getting a broken nose.

“Why? I just wanna hang out with my favorite person in the whole wide world~” his expression was pulled into a pitiful frown, though he knew you could see through his bullshit. You always could.

“……”

He growled deep within his throat, hand darting forward and snatching the book from your own

The sudden grin on his collar didn’t register until it was choking him, and his eyes were met with the sight of your scalding glare. Your noses bumped together, and it took everything in Christophe to not look at your lips, otherwise he knew he’d try to kiss them. He had very little self control in moments like these.

“Fuck off Chris. Give me back my book.”

Fuck he wanted to listen to you so bad, his thighs were quick to clench together in anticipation, licking his suddenly chapped lips as he trembled in your hold. Though not from fear like you probably suspected. If you were even paying attention to details like that, which- god he prayed you were.

“Careful-! Wouldn’t want the faculty seeing you manhandle their favorite student” He tossed the book to you, and once you caught it you dropped him to the ground.

His eyes darted upwards, the visual of you above him, staring at him like the filth on your boot was burned into his retinas.

Fuck fuck fuck.

“You’re pathetic Christophe. When are you gonna get over me.”

Never. Never, he would stay hooked on you for the rest of his life and he’d known that even before you both broke up

He’s craved you for years. Ages. You’d never know the true extent of how pathetic he was.

“Like I’d still be interested in someone like you Y/n. The end of our relationship was like a blessing. I’d never felt so alive.” Liar. Liar liar liar. It was painful saying these things. Even if your expression was exciting, the way he got to see it almost wasn’t worth it. They burned his tongue.

Being away from you was like being wrapped in heavy cuffs and weights. He felt more suffocated then ever. He needed you.

“Whatever. Just leave me alone this week. I have enough bullshit to deal with right now.”

He had so many questions. He wanted to ask what was wrong. To hold you and tell you that you could talk to him. That whatever, or whoever was bothering you, he’d beat the shit out of them if you asked. He’d do it even if you didn’t too.

But he stayed quiet. And he watched as you left him their on the floor. You cared so little for him.

He savored the backwards glance you threw his way.

Fuck.

[growup-thatbeautiful]

mad max fury road absolutely destroyed me so here’s some max brainrot!

also, apologies for all the unanswered asks, i legit haven’t written anything since well before december, but i’m trying to get back into it. just, you know, a lot going on :))

tw: mentions of sa, blood, canon typical violence

you’re one of joe’s wives, so obviously you’ve got a lot of trauma and you’re not exactly used to being out in the open. but, when furiosa tells you to follow her onto the convoy, you don’t hesitate one bit. you would do anything to get away from joe and the prison joe crated for you and the other girls. nothing can be worse than what you’ve already been through.

the hiding hole in the convoy is dusty and hot. it’s hard to breathe through the smoke and sand whirling through the crowded space, and you’re pushed up against the hard metal, Toast’s elbow in your stomach. when the convoy stops moving, you relish the opportunity to stretch your legs and drink some water. the thin cloth that covers your body is gritty with sand and stained by tears. if you had anything else to change into, you would.

the sun is brighter than anything you’ve ever seen. the sand is warmer than you expected, and you remind yourself that people die out here. but the water is cold and it’s sweet on your tongue, the hope of survival clawing it’s way from your chest.

at first, like everyone else, you don’t trust him one bit. he’s a stranger, and a man, and you’re not sure he’s sane. he doesn’t even have a name that you know of.

but there’s something about him. something that tells you he won’t hurt you or any of the other girls. the brown eyes that he hides under that mask are cunning and strange, yes, but there’s a level of honesty in them that makes you want to trust him.

furiosa’s killswitch stops him before he gets too far, and then he’s forced to take your group. you’re squeezed up from with him and her, the daggers between them enough to make it uncomfortable. she has control- you’re not worried about that- but he has pretty much all of the weapons furiosa hid away.

for the most part, the time passes in silence. Toast and Splendid argue some, and Dag takes the middle ground. Furiosa concentrates on the road, and the man curls as far into the metal of the door as he can, weapons stashed underneath his feet.

it’s not until much later, after you’ve met up with the women from the green place, that you talk to him for the first time. the sky is dark and streaked with sandstorms in the distance, greys and oranges flooding the atmosphere.

“all the others have names. you don’t?” he asks. you’re sitting in the front seat with him again, Furiosa deep in conversation with one of the older women.

“you haven’t told us your name either,” you bite back. “and my name isn’t your concern. neither are their names.” you nod toward the group of girls curled up on the back seat, each looking more and more exhausted.

he accepts your answer with a small nod. “i wouldn’t want to keep a name he gave me either.” there’s a surprising level of understanding in his eyes.

“it’s not that.” he doesn’t look convinced. “it’s not just that,” you correct. “i don’t have anything else to go by. i’m not used to having people use my name for good things.”

“i wouldn’t want to contribute to that bad streak,” he agrees. “what do i call you, then?”

you think for a moment. it doesn’t take you long to come up with a name. it’s something you heard Cheedo talk about one time, probably just a story about a place with streets made of water, opera houses full of painted tiles, and people crammed together but happy. “venice. you can call me venice.”

“venice it is, then.”

the next day, the plan changes. you never thought you would want to head back to where you came from, but it’s better than the alternative. years riding nowhere. sun blisters and sand burns.

the road back to the stronghold is dangerous. it’s risky. but you have Furiosa and the man with you. they’re just as dangerous, you think.

you didn’t expect to survive, though. yes, you lost Splendid and Nux. it hurt like you thought it would, but you haven’t had enough time to really consider it. not with everything going on. not when you find out the man’s name is max. it’s a good name, an old name. one without this world’s pain ingrained into it.

it’s been hours on the road with him and you can’t sleep. every time you close your eyes you see joe’s figure lurking over you or splendid’s body roll underneath truck tires or even flames eating at nux as rubble and rock crushed him into the ground. you know you’re going to be home soon, if you can even call the stronghold a home.

you know you’re getting on max’s nerves. he doesn’t say anything, but the glances in your direction are enough. you pick at your fingernails until they’re raw and bite and the inside of your cheek until it bleeds. none of it helps. you can’t sleep.

finally, he breaks the silence. “why don’t you try to sleep?” you don’t need to tell him why. he’s heard your screaming and your panicked breaths. he knows what happens when you try to sleep. “there’s nothing that used to help you fall asleep? with the other girls?”

“toast and i used to hold each other when it was too much.” you don’t know why you tell him. you would never wake Toast up, not when she’s finally fallen asleep after fitful attempts. and it’s not like max is going to hold you while you sleep. he has more important things to do.

you don’t expect him to offer. you really don’t. with Furiosa hurt, its on him to drive. it shouldn’t be much further, but it’s enough.

“lay you head down,” he says softly. when you don’t immediately respond, he adds, “you don’t have to, but i think it’ll help you get some sleep.”

“okay,” you agree uncertainly. slowly, carefully, like you’re trying not to scare him or yourself, you lean over and lay down, your back on the warm metal of the seat. your head rests gently on his thigh, and you try not to put too much pressure on him. you know he’s sore, and you aren’t sure this is what he wants.

“there you go.” his voice is quiet but, for once, sure of himself. his hand reaches to card through your hair and brush it off your face. “try to sleep, now.”

it’s easier than you thought it would be, trusting him. letting him take care of you. but, somehow, you do. maybe it’s because you know his name and because he’s saved you so many times. whatever it is, you let him lull you to sleep with his gentle hands tracing the curves of your face.

[serapheemz]

‧₊˚🖇️✩ His home

The relationship between you and the Sky Casino manager grows wildly to the point you feel as if you had to give into your desires.

ADDITIONAL : Sigma is a bottom ; There's some praise kink sprinkled in there ; First time ; Handjob ; Blowjob ; Gentle sex ; Mind break, kinda ?

Author's note : This is a really short drabble, around 800 words, apologies for not writing a full on oneshot today as I'm feeling pretty icky 🤧

Sigma is and has always been a gentle soul.

You caught yourself being infatuated by him. It could've easily been because he was the only sane member of the Decay of Angels, but deep down you felt it was because his loneliness made your heart sting and your stomach tingle with excitement.

He was one to easily break, and willingly surrender, unlike your colleagues. It was a nice change of pace when you were around him, to say the least.

Whenever Nikolai's or Fyodor's etiquette and actions got to your head, annoying the hell out of you, you'd find yourself hanging around him.

It never occurred to you until recently that he'd become rather attached to you.

Every day he'd discover a new way to be around you. He didn't even need to talk or look at you. His heart fluttered from just sharing the same sofa or bench as him.

You knew of his longing for a home. You guessed he had found it.

You were his home.

You thought of those words one night, replaying them in your head over and over again, and for some reason, your cheeks turned scarlet and your heart beat melodiously in your chest. You had just about forgotten Sigma's head was resting on your shoulder as he peacefully breathed, slowly, in and out, seemingly smiling. Perhaps he was dreaming of something nice.

You couldn't contain your enthusiasm when you heard him softly moan your name in his sleep.

Nevertheless, when he woke up, things took a more sinister turn.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

You pumped your hand around his thrumming shaft, spitting a glob of your saliva and watching it drip down to his balls, where your hands gently fondled.

Only god knows what Sigma was thinking in the moment. His eyes were half-lidded, clouded in lust, his hands gripping the pillow underneath his palm. You swore he was in a state of delirium as you worked your hands around and down his dick.

"You okay?" You spoke, lips latched on his tip, tongue circling it, feeling the crevices.

God, you were destroying the poor guy.

Your touches and kisses to his cock sent terrifyingly pleasurable tremors down his spine, to his stomach where he felt another orgasm coil up and break him down further.

He mumbled and looked away, desperately searching for an object to fixate his attention on, just not you. It wouldn't work, of course. He found himself unable to control his whines anymore, letting them spill and spill from his lips till all you could make out were his begs to come.

"Y-yes, 'm fine... co-com...in..." He sputtered, hand clasping against his mouth.

Obviously, you wouldn't let him do that, not when he was so close to finishing. You slowly raised yourself on your two feet, meeting him at eye level, carefully removing his hand and holding it in your own.

"Look at me, sweetheart." You whispered and he whined, listening cautiously to your words. "You gotta calm down, okay? Hold my hand." He gripped it, trying to ground himself as your hands heightened their speed, squeezing ever so gently around the base of his cock.

"Y-yes, uh-huh...?"

"I know you wanna come, so lay back, you're tense. You'll hurt yourself if you don't relax."

Sigma did exactly as you told him. What a good boy he was. You swore you felt a pang in your heart when you saw how obedient he was, listening to you and following your orders like some sort of dog. It was all too cute.

He leaned back on the bed, giving you space to inch closer to him and inspect his face. His cheeks were hot pink and there was sweat sticking to his bi-colored bangs.

You swiped the hair out of his eyes, leaning in to press a long kiss to his forehead as he stuttered, eyes rolling back into his skull.

The feeling of your body pressed up against his had him back in his delirious state, causing his hips to rock subconsciously into your hands, fucking himself against the fingers you had wrapped around him so deliciously.

"Y/n, o-oh god..." He stuttered, breath catching in his throat.

"Come on, pretty, you can do this..."

"Gonna- Gonna c-c-" Sigma threw his head back, hips giving out from the intense euphoria that washed over him like a wave of pleasure. The sweet aftershocks of his orgasm caused him to frown and hiss as you leaned down to lick the creamy fluids that slid down his shaft.

His eyes held wide and his hands shuddered as they weakly gripped yours. The mere sight of you licking the cum off his dick made him hard again. He sighed, mumbling something under his breath,

"...Can we do that again?"

You looked up at him, eyes sparkling with excitement, "Sure, anything for you."

[actual-changeling]

One breath, but Mulder shows up in Scully's hospital room with tear tracks still drying on his face and his first real smile since she was taken. He's out of breath, probably broke several dozen traffic laws on his way back to her, but she's awake.

Not Fox, Mulder, Scully corrects her mother, and she is reaching for him before she can think better of it. His hands are warm and shaking and familiar, and he sits down next to her like she's made of glass. Like he is going to break her if he allows his fear to spill out onto the floor.

His mouth opens and closes repeatedly until he finally manages a hi, watching her lips move into a smile. hi. Mulder tentatively lifts their intertwined hands and kisses her knuckles while squeezing his eyes shut.

He wants to fall to his knees and thank every god he doesn't believe in for bringing her back to him, he wants to hold her and press her to his chest until he no longer feels empty inside, he wants to bury his face in her hair and fall asleep with her safe in his arms. At some point during the last few weeks, he must have slept, even if only for a few horrifying hours, yet all he recalls is suffocating darkness and her screams echoing in his mind.

I missed you, Mulder whispers against her skin, but she hears him—she always does.

I heard you, she responds, tugging on his hand to pull him closer. I heard you, Mulder. I felt the strength of your beliefs.

Maggie and Melissa are silently watching the exchange, but they've never cared less about prying eyes and unsatisfied curiosity. Scully's gaze catches on something, and Mulder follows it to the glinting gold cross around his neck. The chain runs through his fingers like water, thin and fragile, and the only thing that helped him stay sane enough to keep going.

Kept it safe for you, he tells her, and takes it off to fasten it around hers instead; it's finally back where it belongs. Tears burn new, glistening paths down his cheeks, and he doesn't bother wiping them away.

I was so scared. It's a confession, it's an apology, it's a promise, and he shuffles closer and closer and closer.

I was so fucking scared, Scully.

Her fingertips are cool against his flushed skin, and he closes his eyes at the contact, fearing that if he moves, she will disappear again. For so long, nothing in his life mattered more than the nebulous truth hiding the fate of his sister. Then she walked into his office with a smile and trust in her heart, and suddenly she wasn't simply helping him discover the truth—she became the truth.

Scully squeezes his hand and traces the line of his jaw, and two warm pairs of eyes look away when she tilts her head upwards, meeting Mulder in the middle as he leans in close, closer, touching.

She kisses him softly because she wants to. Because she can. Because she can taste salt, relief, and light on his tongue, a sunrise swallowed and hidden away throughout the night.

Thank you for not giving up. He couldn't have lived with himself if he had, and it's written across his face and woven into his soul. Losing her would have meant losing himself, and there is nothing that could have stopped him from following her to wherever they would have gone. Together or not at all, and he has no idea why she stayed, why she is still staying after everything he put them through.

You found me, he cannot say; you found me and brought me home. You found me and you saw me, and I don't think I will ever know why you decided I was deserving of your grace and your presence in my life.

They press their foreheads together, and a by now familiar hand lands on his shoulder as Maggie reaches for both of them—family, she had called him, over and over—and there is nothing but warmth offered to him.

Thank you for coming back.

[wilddflwer]

Two-Way Mirror

Song by Loathe

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ reader x j. slaughter ˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

ps, just wanted to write something short, not the best but I needed to get rid of my writers block sooo bad.

Summary: reader manages to get away from the man who held her captive, blindfolded, and abused for days. thinking she finally escaped hell, she comes to realize she wasn’t even close.

Contains: dark themes, kidnapping, abuse, gore, Johnnys an asshole

𓉸ྀི 𓉸ྀི 𓉸ྀི

Your jaw ached at how tightly the gag was tied, forcing your mouth to stay open, no doubt leaving a deep red marking on the sides of your face. You move your tied down wrists and ankles uncomfortably, only being able to shift them just by an inch. Your whole body ached, from the abuse, from the consistent sitting position in the chair you were bound to, from the hopelessness inside, from the lack of strength. You hung your head lowered in defeat as you stayed wondering how long you’ve been here. You haven’t been able to see anything but pure darkness for what felt like months. He never takes the blindfold off.

It wasn’t unusual for your capture to leave you alone for more than two days, starved and beaten. It was something you prefer actually, beats having to deal with his sadistic nature. It almost became some sort of routine for you. Every two to four days he would be gone, then he’d show up again, almost excited to see you. Despite not have ever looking at his face, you felt you already knew him whole. You grew to recognize his foot steps, they were heavy and paced lightly. That’s when you knew he was back, when your found peace was about to end. You recognized his touch, always gloved, never skin, leaving continuous bruises and wounds on your body. Most importantly, you recognized his voice. You’ll never forget his voice, his laugh, his mockery, his twisted praising, his mean degrading, his breathing pattern. Hell, even his scent you grew familiar with, cigarettes and death. No, you’ll never forget it. His voice and laughter echo in the your mind constantly, it bounces off the walls and follows you to your restless dreams. Aside from learning his cruel ways, the only other thing you knew of him was his name; Johnny.

It was day three of Johnnys absence. Day three of another torture of silence, aside from your own breathing and on and off cries. Your stomach rumbled in hunger as you shifted your weight uncomfortably, wishing you never went on your stupid trip. That last minute trip driven by anger and spite towards your father, who you had a pretty bad argument with just before you left. That was another thing that weighed down on you, regret. You said such awful things to him, and those were the last words your father would ever hear from you. It hurt, it really hurt. If you could, you’d apologize over and over until you couldn’t speak anymore. You figured you had until tomorrow to have time to yourself to rest and attempt to gather your thoughts. Although, he was unpredictable, so you didn’t rely too much on your own guessing games. You just preyed he’d never come back. You’d rather die at this point, your sane mind was reaching its breaking point. You were slowly losing your fighting spirt.

“I wanna go home” you whimpered to the empty room, the last little hope in you wishing someone would hear your words. Of course, there was never a response. You fell silent once more. You’ve already tried again and again to escape, thrashing around in your restraints hoping they’d get loose. They never did. You were growing tired of the mind games he’d play with you, the abuse, the inhumanity of it all. Even the small things such as feeding you. You’d feel his eyes on you as you eat what you assumed was some sort of meat. His small chuckles made you second guess yourself, forcing the food down. You didn’t want to think it was anything else besides some sort of animal.

You don’t know how much more you could endure. So, there you are once again, attempting to get out. The thought of seeing your father again and taste of freedom is enough to bring back lost determination. You thrash your wrists and ankles wildly against the rope that burns into your tender skin. You twist and pull, flexing them in different directions in hope it’ll loosen just a little. You whimper and hiss through the pain, the rope burn only seemed to get worse on your broken skin. You didn’t stop. You keep twisting, pulling, thrashing, anything you could take off to get free.

Your struggling suddenly becomes worth it as you manage to tug your left hand free, slipping and tugging it through the rope. It was a tight squeeze out, tight enough to force your hand purple for a small amount of time. That didn’t matter though, you could finally get out. Maybe he tied the rope lazily, thinking it was enough to keep you strapped down. After all, you had been trapped here for almost a month now. Either way, your escape would be a slip up on Johnnys end.

You quickly loosened the rope on your other hand, tugging your joint free from its own prison. Then finally, you take off your blindfold for the first time since you’ve been here. Your eyes adjusted quickly to the ominous, dark room you were in. The only light source was a couple lanterns that were draped on the ceiling and the little sunlight that shined down from a hole in the ceiling. It was just enough to make out the horrors of the cold room you were in. The ceiling was littered with various human body parts, from hands to feet. There were at least four corpses strung up, rotting to the bone. You hadn’t realized it until now you had become nose blind to that god awful smell of rotting. You swallowed down the vomit that crept up your throat. Then there was the ladder that led up to who knows where. You quickly started undoing the ropes around your ankles, your last step to finally find your way out of this hellhole. You massage your aching wrists and ankle before thinking about your next step.

Your legs shake as you stand, causing you to hold onto the arm of the chair for support. You keep your eyes to the floor, avoiding looking at any gruesome scene. You force yourself to stand straight as you make your way, or rather stumble, towards the door that leads out. You tug at the sliding door, attempting to use all your strength to open it. It doesn’t budge at all.

“It’s locked?” you whisper to yourself, half distraught and half confused. Why would he lock the door if you were already tied down? Either way, it’s just another obstacle for your freedom. You take a deep breath before doing a quick scan of the room. Doing your best to ignore the bodies, your eyes fall on a toolbox set on a counter. You push off the door and towards the tool box. You quietly rummage through it, finding something that could fit as a lock pick. Pulling out a skinny tool, you grip it tightly and go back towards the door. You’ve never had to lock pick something, but now wasn’t the time to just give up. You slide the tool through the keyhole and give it your best. You use the tool to apply pressure on the part that’ll unlock the door for you. It takes you a minute but you manage to unlock it. You drop the now bent up tool on the ground and slide open the door. You cringe at the loudness, hoping he wasn’t anywhere near by.

There was no mistaking it, you were in a basement. It was more of a maze if anything. You didn’t know where to go or where to start. You hold yourself for some sort of comfort as you begin to explore. Again, you avoid looking at the various dead bodies you come across. You can’t help but wonder if that’s going to end up being you. Just another lifeless corpse rotting down here. Then you wonder if Johnny did all this by himself. Surely not? This whole place was one big grave. The further you walk, the more your anxiety rises. Everything was unfamiliar and eerie. You think back to the ladder in the cold room. It seemed too easy for an escape, but you weren’t exactly getting anywhere right now. You circle back to the room that was your prison. Each step getting quicker as you approach the ladder. You wince lightly with every move as you climb up, your eyes squinting as you are met with sunlight for the first time in awhile. You could almost cry feeling the fresh breeze and the warmth of the sun blanketing your cold and bruised skin. To you, it felt like an angels kiss.

Once you’re back on your feet above ground, you find yourself in the back of somebody’s yard. It was a big property, so many areas to hide if needed. You timidly begin to move to the front of the house where you know there has to be a road. You squeeze through a small gap as a short cut to reach the side ramp that you can see from where you are. Afraid Johnny might be inside the house, you are careful not to be too obvious as you make your way up the dirt road and over the cattle grates. Paranoid, you keep glancing around for anybody that may harm you. You weren’t sure how many people lived here, but you figured they must know of Johnnys crimes. How could they not? The basement was littered with evidence.

You tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear as you admire the various sunflowers in the front yard. The front of the house was welcoming and beautiful, almost like there wasn’t any horrors behind its walls or under it. You crept closer towards the front gate that led to freedom, and to your luck it was open. You pushed the gate open and left the property without looking back once.

You were free.

A sense of relief washed over you as you began to walk faster. Part of you wanted to run, but your body wouldn’t allow it. Your legs felt too damaged to do anything other than walk. You sped walked down the road for what felt like miles, your feet sore. It had to be at least an hours now, the sun was setting and there was still not a vehicle or person in sight. You needed help badly. You needed to get to proper safety and call the police and your father.

You hugged yourself once again. The house you escaped from was long gone now, miles and miles behind you. At this point, you were in a zombie like state. You legs kept going but you felt like you weren’t really there. Your mind was else where. Maybe it was the trauma, or the self defence mechanism you gained over the month you were here, or maybe you were just tried. Either way, you weren’t keen on your surrounding enough. Not like there was anything around you for miles, you were alone and lost. Though, it was better than being tied down to that damned chair. You did your best to ignore the growing ache in your feet as you continued on. Your eyes stared at the ground in a daze. You shivered every now and then, and to think you’d be use to the cold by now.

Right now, all you could think about was your bed, your shower, your father’s embrace, the feeling of being home, your old life before your kidnapping. You squeezed your fingers tighter against your shoulders as you hazily looked forward at the gleaming light getting closer. You hadn’t realized it until now but there was a vehicle getting closer and closer from the distance just up ahead the road. It took a moment to sink in but there was indeed a vehicle approaching you, a truck is what you could make it out to be. Immediately you felt overwhelmed with emotions. There’s somebody that will help you. You could almost cry at the thought of finally getting far away from this place.

As the truck got closer, you stepped in the middle of the road so it couldn’t get around you. You waved your tired arm to signal the driver to stop. Your body shakes with anticipation as the pickup truck comes to a halt just a few feet in front of you. You can’t see the driver from where you stand, but they sure as hell could see you. The way the sun is angled is blinding your view of him, but you could vaguely make out a man’s silhouette. Without thinking, you jog up to the passenger side door and open it. You take your spot and slam the door shut. Home was so close now.

“Thank you, thank you” you repeat a couple times as you turn to your saviour, “I need to get to the police station as soon as possible. I don’t know where I am, I was taken and- and”

Your words were scrambled and fast as you tried to explain your situation without scaring the stranger off too much. At this moment you’re able to take in his appearance. The man’s got slicked back dark hair, dark eyes and a nasty scar that runs along his forehead to over his eye. Despite the scar, he was quite the looker. He’s got a cigarette loosely hanging from his lip as he studies you, nodding mindlessly to your rambling. A small smirk tugs at his lips as he begins driving the direction back to the house who had just escaped from.

“Wait…” puzzled, you shake your head desperately, “You’re going the wrong way. I can’t go back there”

It goes silent between the two of you for a minute. The bad feeling in the pit of your stomach returns as you feel the shift of speed of his driving. Then he spoke.

“You got pretty far, huh?” Johnny comments, his amusement growing as the look of horror and realization colours your face at the recognition of his voice. Your heartbeat quickens by the second as you feel your body freeze and tense. Your breathing seems to come to a stop as you can’t find the words or seem remember how to breathe. You felt your anxiety pouring over the edge as Johnny makes heavy eye contact with you. For the first time, you look straight into the dark eyes of evil and he stares into your fear struck stare. The sudden familiar smell of cigarettes and despair hit your nose, triggering your flight or flight. Everything suddenly came together. The gloves, the boots, his voice, his scent. It was him, it was Johnny.

“No…” you whimper, backing away until your back hits the door, “No…”

You reach for the handle and push the door open, falling out at a high speed. It hurt like hell, but you don’t take long to get back in your feet and run for the hills. Your body burns but you can’t go back. You can’t let him get you again. You take off the opposite direction of where he was taking you. Johnny stops the truck immediately, shifting gear and pressing his foot down on the gas, going backwards towards you just as fast. He rests his arm over the seat as he looks back to watch you run. It was pointless really, but it was both a surprise and rush to him that you still had the energy to try get away from him.

You can practically feel your heartbeat in your ears as you take off into the fields of tall grass. Johnny halts his truck, putting it in park and stepping out. He chuckles watching you make a run for it, attempting to hide from him.

“Aw…You leaving so soon?” Johnny tauntingly calls out to you, raising your anxiety. You can’t let him catch you. Surely you were dead this time. You keep pushing on until you realize you have no sense of direction, you’re completely lost.

“I’m gonna find you!” Johnnys voice calls out to you, he’s getting closer already, “I will! I promise!”

The sun was almost completely set now, leaving you without much light to see two steps in front of you. Your breathing was loud and heavy as you pushed grass out of your way. Johnnys taunting stopped and it was now eerily quiet, aside from your panicked breathes. You stopped moving and covered your mouth to avoid further detection. It seemed like time stopped completely. Johnny was being just as quiet as you. There was no way he could find you in this grass, and much less lack of light. Maybe he’d give up…you prayed he’d give up and just leave you alone.

“Hey there!” Johnnys sudden voice made you jump out of your skin. You screamed as you stumbled back, loosing your footing and landing straight on your ass. However, you moved quick, getting back in your feet and ready to take off. As much as Johnny loved the chase, the risk of another person driving by and you somehow escaping him was not something he wanted to deal with. He was quick to grab your arm and force you back to him.

“Oh, you ain’t gettin away! Im keeping you!”

“Don’t touch me! Get the fuck off of me!” You curse at him, hitting him with all the strength you have left. It must be the adrenaline, or maybe even the fear that gave you enough courage to fight back. You were so close to freedom, yet so far. Of course it had to be him driving down that road, of course you had to mindlessly get in his truck. This nightmare never seemed to end. You were desperate.

Johnny was quick to pull out his hunters knife, giving you two deep gashes as a warning. You screamed out in pain at the sudden fire stinging wounds. Johnny found an opening to sink the knife deep into you, yet he didn’t.

“Hurtin’ real bad, ain’t you sweetheart?” Johnny asks as he gets a firm hold on you, restraining you from hitting him any further. You cry, scream, anything to maybe get someone to hear you. Yet again, there’s nobody; just you and Johnny.

Johnny keeps you restrained against him until you’re done. Too tired to scream, too tired to cry, too tied to fight back. He could’ve shut you up, covered your mouth, but he thrived off it. Found your screams and cried music to his ears. He knew nobody could hear you, just as well you knew deep down inside. Any ounce of energy you had was gone. The past and present abuse on your body worn you out completely to the point where you finally slumped into his arms.

“There you go” Johnny hums, placing his knife back into his sheath, “You’ve had a long day, haven’t you, [name]?”

You didn’t reply, not that you refused to, but you couldn’t. You felt too defeated. Your only chance at escaping was gone. Instead you let your mind wander again as Johnny lifted you. You focused on the beauty of the tall grass you were in, on the fields among it. You focused on the cool night breeze and fresh air that you wouldn’t ever feel again. You focused on the arising moon way up in the sky and how pretty it looked. You wondered if your father was looking at it too.

“Damn…so close! Good try though” Johnny chuckled at your unresponsive state. He figured he broke your mind long ago, that you had no will to escape anymore and accepted the fact you were his now. Johnny knew better now, you were stronger than the others, he had more time with you. You were his favourite by far.

“Let’s go home”



[onlyyourhallucination]

idk if that 5 request has already been all taken but i was thinking if you think dan heng is embarrassed about his new outfit and what would he react after seeing reader shamelessly gawking at him from head to toe but everyone could see they focus their attention more to the chest and back window and deliberately asks him to reveal his tail😅

Embarrassed and Frustrated

Pairing : Imbibitor Lunae [ Dan heng ] x Reader

A/n : He'd be, very, embarrassed lmao.

He doesn't know how long he had been standing there, everyone is at the distance watching him. And you, that has been walking around him for the past minute.

You, endlessly complimenting him for his new appearance, or form to be exact. Everyone can definitely see how you stopped on a certain place and stared at a specific part of his clothing, making some of them shaking their head, also letting out a small laughter.

Making the male more embarrassed than he should be, do you even realize what you're doing? Is what he asked in his mind.

He tried his best to stay, sane. but aeons, he couldn't. He lost it when you stopped in front of him and stared, down. To his chest, he softly sighed. Crossing his arms as he stood before you,

"Eyes up here" he said, making you immediately look up at him, you can see the slight pinkish color on his cheek. "Ah, ...hehe, sorry" you apologized, he buried his face in his palm, he couldn't get mad at you.

. . .

"Dan heng" you called out from behind him while following the others back to the express, the male hummed in response. "Can I see your tail?" He stopped on his track for a moment before gently rejecting the idea, "Not now [y/n]" you pouted.

And for the next 30 minutes, you asked again. Repeats every 30 minutes, and he trapped you between him and the wall behind you.

Soon you can feel something wrapped around your waist, "I don't know what you're trying to get from me, but please" he took a deep breath, "Stop asking about it, you already make me embarrassed more than enough today"

"But Danheng-"

"[y/n]. Please."

"..okay-"

©onlyyourhallucinations ; do not copy/translate

A/n : apologies in advance if this does not make sense.

Also due to the lack of request, I'll be closing my 200 request in Thursday, Thank you!

( 2/5 )

[cat-gwyn-gunn]

My thoughts on Watcher now are this:

I’m glad they apologized and saw the error in this idea and in the execution. I’m glad there will still be free access to the content we love. I’m hopeful we can move past this (sounds dramatic I know but I feel like I’ve been rather sane compared to some other people)

(I am a LEETLE irritated that the solution they came to was something extremely simple that should have been the initial idea in the first place. It almost seems like the original decision of was made impulsively and only after backlash they realized “oh wait we could just do this.” But I’m not going to hold that against them. Hindsight is 20/20 they say)

I have started following them again on instragram and tumblr. For some reason I’m hesitating on YouTube. This has been a weird ass rollercoaster ride and I’ve seen a very nasty side of this fandom I never thought I would. I probably should go outside more. So should all of you. But anyways, people are people and people do dumb shit. It’s how you take responsibility and make up for your mistakes that matters.

[lovecite]

Your choice series

Sanemi Shinazugawa x Y/N (Fem reader)

-slight spoilers- fluff--very quickly written--

(--This is sanemi after the fight with Muzan! I feel his character changed to a more kinder soul-- )

**** theme song behind this story****

"irony" (Vocaloid) English Cover by Lizz Robinett

Other songs I listened to while writing this that really made my writing juices flow:

Sugar - BrockHampton

One & Only - Oliver Tree

You Found me- The Fray

Somewhere Only we know- Kean

Just a little back story-

You were sold by your family for the hope of marrying a demon slayer but since Muzan has been defeated you have been set free. To make your own choices.

This story bounces off my other story with Kyojuro "Your choice" one shot just different scenario.

You were sold by your family. They were promised if no slayer claimed you they would still be paid monthly. If a slayer claimed you ,she would be welcomed into the family of what ever slayer and your family again would be taken care of. It was a win win but you were the only loser here. And here your story starts .

Your choice

----🌪️----

It was over.. The fight was over..Muzan had been killed

"Ladies," There was a brief pause before the madam of the house finished. "You are all free to go back to your families." There was silence after the finished sentence. No other explanation was needed to be told to the women before a frenzy ensued.

Women running around with their the trains of fabric from their kimonos dragging behind them as murmurs exploded. Sounds of their delicate feet slamming hard against the wooden floors as they rushed. Rushed to pack and leave. You stood up slowly from the floor as your eyes focused on all the woman's faces.

They had joyous expressions some were even crying and sobbing. This meant that the women no longer had to be forced into a marriage with the slayers. You however did not care. How could you? You had no family to head back to anyways. A letter weeks before this event of Muzan dying had been sent to you. In it an apology written from your home village stating with words

"Your choice if you wish to stay."

And so you decided to stay but now. Now there was nothing for you. You bring your arms into the sleeves of your kimono as you walk ever so slowly towards the entrance of this mansion you had been entrapped in for months. The rush of women still around you as the feeling of dread collected within your chest. Where would you go now? You had the money of course. As it had been told your family had been getting paid for you each month but now did it matter? You were alone with no family to lean on.

As you walk over the threshold of the mansions door way you feel your body still at the scene before you. A sea of slayers waiting in the court yard . You had never seen so many in one place before. They were always away on missions. Your eyes squinting slightly as you eyed them closely. Many of them were on their knees begging ,grasping on the kimonos, for some of the women to reconsider in taking their hand for marriage.

But some of the women held their head high as they passed through the crowd of slayers. They didn't have to follow the rules anymore. It was evident why these slayers had shown up. They must have known that this deal that been going for years would be disbanded today. They wanted to take one more stab at finding a wife.

And of course they had no other choices outside the demon slayer society no sane family ,that were not involved with deal, with daughters wanted them to be tainted. And as you took in more of the colorful haired slayers you also took in the messing limbs ,the ghostly looks that haunted their faces.

You take a deep breathe as you walk from the steps of the mansion making your way through the crowds. As soon as your foot is placed on the court yard they pounced on you falling to their knees.

"Please, wait I can provide I promise!"

"Ma'am please I have to bring a wife back for my family."

"W-Wait please!"

But You kept your gaze forward trying to drain out the out cries of these poor young men clinging onto your kimono. They seemed like lost children reaching for their mother for attention. You pulled the bottom of your kimono from their grasp as you kept walking with the crowd of women leaving the court yard. You take notice that some of the women did stop. You watched as the women who stopped took the hands of those men accepting their marriage proposal.

You followed the other women who where leaving the only thing on your mind. "Your choice" . Finally out the compound. Finally out of the court yard. The dirt road and the forest being the only thing in your sight. This was it. What life would you make for yourself now?

"Did you see that guy?"

"What guy?"

"The guy over there. He's been there on all morning bowed lowly to the ground."

You turn to the other women speaking . Two women together gossiping and pointing to a direction down the road. It peeked your interest and since you had nothing else to go for you. "Where? "You asked without thinking.

Both women jump at your question startled that you had been listening into their conversation. One of the women gave her a look of indifference. "I'd be careful ever since they disbanded this little deal with slayers they've been acting like hungry wolves." She spoke with a huff but then gave the directions of where this bowing man would be.

Then without another thought you walked down the dirt road towards the direction they had explained to you. Your hands stayed in your kimono sleeves. The thoughts of today still swirling in your mind as the images of those slayers begging for a wife flashed.

Your mind lost in thought as the welcoming breeze and birds singing distracted you. You felt a your balance go off as your legs bumped into a lone log below you. A gasp from below you surprised you! A log gasping!

You quickly catch yourself as you take a step back bringing your gaze down to the dirt floor and catch a glance. A glance at the bowing white haired man. He of course like the women described had his forehead to the floor. His knees touching the ground and his hands placed near his bowed head. There was silence between the two. You didn't know how to react. The feeling of wanting to touch his shoulder and ask if he was okay but he hadn't brought his eyes up either.

"E-Excuse me?" You softly spoke ending the deafening silence.

"May I gaze upon you." He requested his tone of voice making you jump slightly in place. His voice sounded so rough even if he had spoken with such a soft tone. "Y-Yes, that is fine." You answer confused slightly at the request. He quickly lifts his head still bowing lowly. You jump back an inch at his sudden movement . His movement reminded you of a bunny coming up after eating hay.

Those pale purple pupils focused on you. You were finally able to take a glance at this mans face. What had he been through for him to have so many scars. "I am Sanemi former hashira of the wind, and looking for a wife." He stated fast with his intentions.

You couldn't help but let a sigh escape your lips of course he was. "O-okay but why are you here and not at the court yard with the others?" You asked the former slayer. His wide gaze did a couple of blinks before looking away. "If it is meant to be then I will find one without begging." He responded with a nod of his head.

"And you women deserve all the respect of having a choice of who your husband should be." He finished bringing those pale purple pupils back to you. A choice. Your choice. You felt a sudden tremor cross your lips before you bend over grasping a hand over your lips to stifle your giggles.

The former hashira sat up slowly bringing his bottom upon his legs as he starred at you. "Did I say something funny, uh." He countered this statement his tone of voice clipped. You pause standing straight up a warm smile upon your lips.

"N-No I just believe my life has been nothing but fortunate. Being able to make a choices for myself is something new to me! " You respond as your eyes dragged away from Sanemi. Your thoughts going over the months of being in that mansion thinking about the times you had to meet and greet with a slayer. Wondering if they would choose you. Those days were very bleak .....

"Um" He hummed catching your attention. His purple gaze focused downward at the dirt floor he brought one of his scarred arms behind his head as his fingers glided through his white hair. Then he brought that pale purple pupils back to you. "So?" He ventured holding your gaze. "Oh" You responded.

A choice.

You lift your kimono slightly up as you kneel in front of him. You go to touch his right hand but he brings it back quickly hiding it under his thigh. "I" He pauses making you bring your attention to his face. His eyes flickered quickly to the left as he brought his other hand down from behind his head bringing it out to you.

"Sanemi, remember i get to make the choices here." You addressed with an almost whisper. His purple wide eyed gaze fell back on you before nodding. A hint of pink crossing his pale scarred face. He dropped his arm down his left hand resting on his thigh as he ever slowly brought out his right hand.

You bring your gaze down to his right hand and soon realized why he had hide it so quickly. His right hand was bandaged but that wasn't what caught you off guard. Your fingers carefully slide across his hand as you flipped his palm upward. Sanemi was messing two fingers. "The last girl that walked by screamed." He revealed. You turned his palm downward intaking the image before you.

"Well her loss then." You uttered as you brought your gaze to his. Your head tilted slightly as a warm smile came upon your face. Sanemi retracted his hand from your grasp leaving an empty space between you two.

A single brow raised in question as a question lingered on your lips. But you were silenced as a firm hold snaked its way around your waist pulling you close. And before you could respond further you felt the warmth of his chest on your front as you were pulled upward from the floor with him.

"W-What are you doing?!" You asked your heart beating so harshly against your chest with excitement. Your eyes landed on his purple gaze his expression was so warm. "My brother died. " He responds pausing as he still kept you in that close hug. His grip around you tightening slightly. "And I want to make sure the dream, I wished so hard for him, will come to light." Sanemi whispered . You feet were dangling as they lightly kicked his legs.

"S-Sanemi what was that dream?" You asked softly as your gaze couldn't leave his face. The way he was smiling down at you made your heart skip a beat... If that were possible. He leaned closer almost as if you were going to kiss but his cheek brushed along side yours. His hot breathe tickling your earlobe. "I want to find a wife and make children. As many as she will allow," Sanemi whispers with a hint of a chuckle in his voice. Your hands find your way to his clothed chest gripping it slightly as you melt in his arms.

"I-I" You started but you were so tongue tied.

"I wanted my brother to live this dream but I suppose since I'm the only one here still. I guess I will take that dream and make it my own." He interrupts you. He places you back on your feet before him his warm gaze never wavering. You look up at him your heart beating so fast.

"So, what do ya think?" He asked his purple gaze focused on you. His right hand brushed along your cheek along your jaw line.

"The choice is yours."

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

Well I hoped you guys liked this!! Thank you for reading!

[nerdieforpedro]

Don't know what you mean

Part one of the Roc & Roc Series

Tim Rockford x plus size female reader (Doc)

This fic is for general audiences.

My blog overall is 18+ MDNI

Main Masterlist / Tim Rockford Masterlist / Roc & Doc Series

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: obsessive behavior, Stealing, discussion of stomach contents, food references (did you think I wouldn't?), mentions of crimes

Summary: You know it's wrong, but you haven't stopped taking them for months. He's going to find out one way or another. How are you going to handle it when he figures it out?

Notes: Because 2024 appears to be my year of writing challenges, I decided to use a prompt I saw on @creativepromptsforwriting blog for a weekend game. It was fun using a prompt but at the same time hard? I usually don't use prompts, All my craziness is marinating up there. 😎 I also took this as an opportunity to write Tim Rockford! I've actually wanted to write him for a while, but wasn't sure how. Here we are. Anything about police and Med. examiners I know from TV and for that I apologize in advance.

I got #799 which gave me the following prompt: "Sometimes it was much easier just to steal something than to ask for it." I don't know if I stuck to it or not. 🫢

As your friend told you the other day when you were grinning about how it’s been three months since you started taking his pens, “You should just tell him you like him. You’re pulling his metaphorical pigtails.” 

She also told you, “that isn’t pride you feel when you do it and see him flustered. Think lower Doc.” 

“You’re thinking lower, in the gutter! It’s just a pen and eventually, I will figure out what restaurant it is. I don’t need to ask him and as good as a homicide detective he is, he still has no idea who took all his pens thus far.”

Your friend calls you a weirdo for taking and keeping this man’s pens. You admit, it’s not something a sane person, let alone what a medical examiner would do. But also, he’s gotta notice eventually right? Then Detective Rockford will be hungry, because murder makes him famished and you can suggest Chinese food. Then you’ll know the name of the damn place because he should be getting all the perks and rewards from whatever little hole in the wall food place this is. It’s been bugging you that you’ve asked others in the bullpen and they don’t know, how can they not know, haven’t they worked with him longer than you have?

Fast forward to one late night of many in your office, writing up reports on your findings and listening to some lo-fi music from your bluetooth speaker. You’re trying to find ways to describe the victim's stomach contents. Bile of course, but noodles, part of a fortune cookie and a few pieces of beef that you could make out. It also had arsenic in it, high levels to where they had clearly been poisoned. Your stomach is growling and you’re just trying to finish this last report before going to get something to eat. Your fingers dance across the keys as you write, wondering if it’s going to be another burger or maybe a taco tonight. Heavy steps echo down the hallway toward your office, you’re familiar with them and have come to welcome them on the frequent late nights.

The trenchcoat is what you see first. It’s not your first time seeing it, but it always made you giggle, his elbow leans on the doorframe as does his hip. He has his glasses on, rare when he’s not reading or editing his murder boards. His broad frame dilled the majority of the doorway as you glanced up from your screen. He threw you a nod as you waved him in, long legs bringing him to one of the two chairs in front of your desk. “Hey Doc, still working?” He relaxed into the chair, leaning a little to his right, his brown eyes scanning your desk. It was actually neat for once. You’d taken the time to clean and organize it after not being able to find a case file. Can’t let that happen again.

“Yeah. I’m surprised you aren’t Rockford. I’m finishing up with the poisoning. There’s nothing specific about the arsenic though. It’s so common it could have come from anywhere. It’s the concentration that’s the kicker. That what you’re here about Columbo?”

“The case always comes first, but I have a different case I’m working on. It’s a subtle one. One that was clearly thought out and took planning. And I’m surprised you know about Columbo, that’s good. I’ll also accept the compliment, like me he had a full head of hair.” Tim explains leaving you curious. You couldn't recall another intersecting active case. The others were fairly straightforward. Blunt force trauma, stabbings, a couple drownings and animal attacks. How people still don’t get to leave bears and coyotes alone is beyond you. “It’s not a homicide. It’s theft. Very petty theft.” He’s rolling his wrist while he explains, almost like he’s hypnotizing you, but your own cough brings you out of it. “I don’t understand what would motivate a person to continually do something so benign but also annoying.” He grins, “You alright there Doc? Want me to get you a bottle of water out of your mini-fridge?” He stands and grabs himself one, offering you one without waiting for your answer. You just nod and cough a bit more, clearing your throat before gulping the water down.

The time has likely come. You’re sure he knows you’ve been taking his pens. So petty, not befitting of a well-adjusted adult, but you’re not are you? Tim reclaims his seat and scoots it back to allow for him to spread his legs to set his elbows on. He learns forward and takes a swig from the bottle. A little of the water gracing his bottom lip to which he licks off. “Thanks Rockford, for the water.” You manage to exhale after holding your breath and sit back in your own chair, trying to move away from him in such a small space. He’s still on the other side of your desk, but he’s too imposing and you feel guilty. 

“You’re welcome Doc. Now, this culprit has been tricky and I honestly didn’t notice at first. I’ve always been pretty absent-minded when it came to pens. I usually use the same one until the thing doesn’t write anymore. But, Stevenson, even though he is a tool, did buy me two sets of black ball-point Sharpie pens. He was a bit of an ass saying I needed those to read my own notes. They can’t be chicken scratch and a thin wisp of a line.” Tim rattled on. You wondered if this is what he did with his suspects, left them dangling while he had them circling and spinning in their heads like you are now. The water bottle crunches in your hand from the pressure you’re putting on it and you set it down, opting to take hold of the armrests of your chair. You had splurged on a wider one for yourself that would accommodate your hips and thighs since you do spend many an hour dictating and typing notes. Rockford’s head cocked to the side as he watched you.

“Tell me why I see those same pens here on your desk in your little cup here and why you’ve been taking them Doc. I know it’s you, I just want to know why. You’re…” Tim paused for a moment, “particular but I didn’t think petty. I also can’t think of anything we've disagreed or had an issue with each other about.” Closing your eyes, you knew this moment would come, it’s so stupid. You’re a grown woman stealing pens, but it was easier than just asking. Your friend had been right, you’ve got too much pride.

“Tim.” You start, you’ve got to sell it. Hard. You lean forward and mimic his body language, elbows on your desk, trying your damnedest to look calm. Your armpits feel hot though. “Your pens are better than mine. I could have went out and bought them myself. I’m not hurting for money, but they were right there. I got one, and I just had to have more of them. They write so smoothly and fit in my hand just right.” You even gestured your hands like you were scribbling on top of a folder. This had to be the end of it right? “I’m sorry I took your pens. I will buy you new ones and work will be a little awkward but it will pass eventually.” You shrugged your shoulders and smiled, trying to reassure him. It would be totally weird working with him now, especially since he’s the lead homicide detective on so many cases, but this is the grave you dug yourself. 

Rockford’s face could have been made of stone. You swear the entire time you spoke he didn’t move. “Hmmm…Thanks for the apology Doc but what is the real reason? Because it was over months and you gave yourself away every time you watched me look for a pen. Even offered me one yourself at times. I kept running through different motives you could have but none of them make any sense.” Tim reached into his coat pocket and removed his handy notebook. Turning to presumably, where said motives are written, and showed you where he had crossed out the following:

Botched case?

Improper conduct?

Evidence misuse?

Autopsy issues?

Stopping by her office without notice?

Talking to her in general?

All were crossed out and you felt that same feeling of pride in your chest and belly. You remembered your friend’s words, “that isn’t pride you feel when you do it and see him flustered. Think lower Doc.” But it was kinda cool to be in the lauded detective’s notebook. He thought about you and looked back on your interactions. As it relates to you stealing his pens, but still thought about you. It’s nice in a twisted way. 

Tim snapped his fingers and put his notebook back, standing up and pressing his palms down on your desk. “This is a really weird game to play, Doc. Do you have some sort of grudge against me? If so, why? If not, then what is it? What’s your goal here?”

You shrink back from his intense stare, eyes boring into you. Gripping onto your armrests again, you just stare at his chest, speaking to it rather than him. It was easier to not see the disappointment on his face as you feel so ashamed. 

“It was easier to lift your pens while I looked in your office for that damn menu! Why don’t you have one?! You eat there at least twice a week, I figured I’d take something and you’d ask me why I’d been in your office and then I could bring it up, but after the first month, it felt really weird and I liked seeing the great Tim Rockford panicking over a pen! I’m crazy, okay?!” As you spoke, Tim grew a shit eating grin that presented itself to you when you finally met his gaze.

“You could have just asked Doc. I don’t have the menu anymore because I memorized the number and address along with the food options. Because I eat there so often.” The low rumble of laughter as he stood to his full height made you cover your face. It was worse than imagined, you might leave in a huff and ignore you except for cases. But this was worse, he is laughing at you. A large hand pats your shoulder, “Doc, you’re hilarious. You’re in your head too much. Next time just ask and stop stealing my damn pens. You are buying those pens you promised me though.”

“You’re not mad Rockford?” You asked, your face felt like an inferno as you still hid it. Tim pulled his hands back and walked around to your side of the desk, leaning on it as he moved your hands. You still couldn’t make eye contact with him again.

“Having my pens stolen isn’t the worst people have done over the years. It is one of the weirdest though. Come on, I was going to go get something to eat. I’ll show you where the Chinese food place is.” Rockford assured you and finished his water before tossing in the trash can. He stood by the door and waited for you to save your work, and put on your coat. You grabbed your bag to follow Tim out.

“I’ll have your pens for you later this week. I promise and I’ll pay for the food tonight.” You offered as Tim held the door open for you, making your way to your own car he stopped walking. 

“Where are you going? I’m not hopping in a pen thief’s car. What might happen to me in there? Thievery could just be the tip of the iceberg with you. We’re taking mine.” He chuckled and you rolled your eyes. 

“You’re going to call me that for a long time aren’t you? And I wouldn’t harm you. I’ve been stealing your pens, that doesn’t translate to murder. Damn Homicide detective.” You mumbled the last sentence. Hopefully he doesn't really think you’d murder him right?

“Yes I will, you thieving doctor. Petty crimes often lead to major ones. You know that. Get in, we’re getting some lo mien.” Rockford opened your door and you hopped in, excited to finally taste the Chinese food again. Tim smiled softly at your excitement and started the car, taking off into the night. White take out boxes awaited you both.

Part Two

Pens that fit into Rockford's hand ✍🏼: @sin-djarin @secretelephanttattoo @maggiemayhemnj @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @megamindsecretlair @magpiepills @fhatbhabie @yorksgirl @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @rhoorl @laurfilijames @avastrasposts @linzels-blog @frenchiereading @goodwithcheese @pamasaur @morallyinept @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @readingiskeepingmegoing @guelyury @pascalsanctuary @legendary-pink-dot @musings-of-a-rose @clawdee @pedritapascal @sp00kymulderr @grogusmum @alltheglitterandtheroar @agentjackdaniels @pedroshotwifey

[yanderes-galore]

Hi! May I request a Yan Cross concept?

Thanks!

　- 🪷🪼

Sure! I'll try my best with this. Only ever finished Season 1. I felt like I should add more to make it more... "yandere"? Yet... I wasn't sure what else to add :( As usual, I'll take feedback.

Yandere! Cross Concept

(FT. X-Event Chara)

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Clingy behavior, Stalking, Manipulation, Isolation, Kidnapping, Possessive/Protective behavior, Forced companionship/relationship.

Cross... has gone through a lot.

When he still had a universe and wasn't merged with Chara, he was compassionate.

He was naive, wanting to believe in people.

Truthfully... He was never meant for such a life.

Now, by the end of it all, he's left with just Chara in his head and a decaying state by Error.

Cross, due to the destruction of his universe, is selfish and arrogant.

Compared to your typical Sans, he's never lazy.

I also imagine with Chara he has frequent fights with himself.

No one can really see Chara except him, unless Chara takes control.

He's mostly cruel and childish due to Chara, yet towards someone he likes he may have sparks of friendly compassion.

We can see this when Ink visited him.

He liked having Ink as a friend, Ink kept him sane in the void that was his world.

So imagine if he could find a similar connection with his obsession?

Once Ink leaves, Cross probably wants someone to rely on... to find company in.

Perhaps you were a universe traveler like Ink and often visited him?

He's scared he's dying and he really doesn't want to hear Chara talk.

All Chara suggests is violence and self-deprecation... often viewing Cross as a tool.

Even more so when he has to run around with Nightmare to steal core code from other universes.

Cross's obsession would start when you offer companionship similar to Ink.

You give him gifts and try to keep his spirits up just like Ink did.

Even when Ink left, you lingered... Even if you had to leave a while later.

When you do try to be friends, Chara wants to ignore it.

You'll just betray them.

You don't actually want to be friends, you're just scared of them.

You just want them to be complaisant.

Chara says Cross will be useless if he gets distracted.

They need to focus on making a universe of their own.

Chara has tried to trust people, it only breaks people.

Cross doesn't seem to listen to Chara, though.

He may even find a way to shut Chara out to focus, like he did in the series with a bone.

Cross knows he shouldn't fall for it again.

You'll just hurt him, he'll just lose you like he did Ink and everyone else.

Yet you're always kind and trying to be understanding.

You even offer him affection and understanding before he tries to attack anyone for their code.

It hurts him even more when you look so betrayed.

You look like he's stabbed you when he breaks apart worlds.

If Chara is active again, He taunts Cross.

Cross really does try to ignore you to focus on his plan.

He shouldn't trust anyone... He should focus on getting his home back.

It doesn't matter what you did for him.

But... Cross realizes he can't go back to that void alone again.

I would not put it past Cross to kidnap you.

Chara's baffled, Nightmare's amused...

Yet Cross is desperate.

He follows you from universe to universe, not only to collect core code but to see you.

He can't help it... He admires you...

Yet he knows he has to wait for you to forgive him... if you even do....

Soon he isn't going to be so patient, unfortunately.

When he decides he needs to take you with him, he fights you.

He corners you, claiming he is not leaving without you.

You can fight if you wish... But he makes it a goal to weaken you enough so you surrender.

Once you do, he apologizes to you before getting Nightmare to take them back.

Cross doesn't bother with restraints.

You can't go anywhere.

You're meant to sleep in a stolen home from another universe.

Cross always checks in, trying his best to be compassionate.

He remembers when you gave him gifts... so he often comes by with things he thinks you'll like from other universes.

He says he wants to make this place a home for you.

He admits he doesn't want to be alone.

Chara calls him weak, yet he shuts the human up.

Weak? Yeah, maybe he is weak.

If he wasn't, all of this never would've happened.

Chara should know that... He's weak too....

Cross allows you your space, feel free to walk the endless white void if you wish.

Yet you can't leave.

Even if you had powers similar to Ink, Cross would find a way to either monitor you or chase you down if you tried to leave.

In that case he may actually need restraints.

Cross isn't sure what he wants.

A friend? Family? Something else?

He can only describe it as... companionship.

All he knows is he can't be alone.

He hates watching you sob in his arms.

He hates when you flinch away from his touch.

He hates that he can never make you happy.

Chara grumbles about wishing they could OVERWRITE again... Then you could be happy.

Cross tries not to think of such a thought.

Maybe... Maybe you'll like him eventually?

He just wants... someone to make this place more lively.

However, all you do is sit in the home you share curled in a corner.

Nightmare thrives off the negativity, while Cross just feels guilt.

He wishes he could let you go.

He wishes you'd love him.

Yet, you only hate him... you ignore him...

But... You're here...

Cross would rather you hate him than not be here with him... as selfish as it is.