#aren’t my own so is this not my own can’t ever speak none of it’s my own it feels unsafe especially to speak of anything that isn’t this

[takeyourcyanide]

asking for help always makes things worse

[aewon]

all night, in love — YJW

pairing- jungwon x fmr genre: fluff, e2l, fake dating ⚠️: kissing, cursing, slight slight very tiny angst (practically nonexistent) wc: 3k

You hate Yang Jungwon, and he hates you too.

The reason? You ACCIDENTALLY tripped him in front of his crush in 9th grade. You never knew someone could hold such a grudge for something that wasn’t on purpose.

Ever since that day, Jungwon has made it his life mission to make you miserable.

He doesn’t do anything physical, he just makes annoying, mean jabs at you whenever he can, which you don’t hesitate to fire back.

What you never expected was for him to come up to you, asking for a favor.

“A favor? Why would I ever want to help you?” You scoff at his audacity, turning away from him on the bench you’re currently occupying.

He doesn’t go away, instead sitting next to you on the other side, facing you.

“Please, I’ll do anything!” When you look at him, he’s pouting, something that’s never been directed toward you.

He almost looks…cute?

“Anything?” You ask, not concealing the smirk gracing your face.

“… As long as it’s nothing super crazy, yes.”

You ponder for a moment, what could you possibly need from Yang Jungwon.

“I’ll help you, but I’m not telling you what you’re doing until after we’re done! So what exactly is it that you need?”

Jungwon suddenly looks away from you, biting his lip as if he’s afraid to say it.

“Well? We don’t have all day.”

He looks down at the ground, twiddling his thumbs before finally speaking, “I need you to date me.”

You almost spit out the sip of coffee you just took.

“What?”

“Look, you know Yoona, right?”

You nod, having met the girl before in science class.

“I have a huge crush on her but she never notices any of my attempts to talk to her or engage so I figured if I’m dating someone, that’ll make her notice. Everyone knows we don’t like each other so it’ll make a huge spectacle.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his rhetoric.

“Everyone knows we don’t like each other, so they’ll definitely believe we just started dating? That makes no sense, Jungwon. Come on, you’re smarter than that.”

“We can say it was all a ruse! We just didn’t want people knowing how much we like each other so we pretended to have a fued instead.”

“Still doesn’t make sense. Our friends and peers aren’t stupid, they’ll see right through us.”

“Not if we’re convincing! We’re talking right now, right? Not arguing. We’ll just tell everyone we decided to come clean. Please do this for me, you know I’d never bother you with something like this otherwise.”

That is true, and although you can’t ever imagine yourself liking someone like Jungwon, it’s fake.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

Jungwon, for the first time, gives you a genuine smile. One that’s not devolving into a sneer or fake.

“So, what do we do now?” He asks.

“Do you have any boundaries you don’t want crossed?”

He shakes his head, “I want this to be believable.”

Without warning, you tug him forward by his shirt, planting your lips on his.

You don’t open your eyes to see if he’s shocked or not, but soon you feel his lips moving with yours.

His large hand travels to cup the side of your face.

You don’t know how long you’re kissing for, or rather making out at this point, but you’re interrupted by the bell ringing.

As you pull away, Jungwon looks as if he’s in a daze.

Your eyes look around the courtyard and multiple people are staring at you, looking away quickly when they realize they’ve been caught.

“Bye boyfriend, I’ll see you later.” You wink, getting up from the bench and leaving to go to class.

The end of the school day comes quicker than not, and you wait outside for your friend Ningning so you can drive her home.

A hand comes to rest on your waist, and you turn to find Jungwon standing beside you.

“I figured I’d get your number now so none of our friends suspect us.”

You nod, taking his phone and putting your number in, texting yourself quickly.

You save his number in your own phone as “wonnie ❤️” while he saves yours as “babe 🩷.”

“You drive Ningning to school right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I’ll start driving the both of you, just text me your address and I’ll pick you up first tomorrow.”

“Sounds good, we should also figure out some kind of timeline for this relationship. When do we wanna say this started?”

Jungwon ponders for a moment, “A few months ago? Not too specific but not suspicious either. We could say after a while the dislike toward one another became tired and we decided to be friends which then developed into a relationship.”

“And why did we hide it?”

“Because we were embarrassed.” He shrugs and you nod along.

“Sounds good, we can figure out details later.”

Out in the parking lot, his group of friends are all staring at you. “I should get home,” Jungwon says, “we’re all hanging at my place and I know they’re dying to ask me about us.”

“Call me tonight?”

He nods, wrapping you up in a hug, pulling away to kiss your lips.

You can’t help but like the feeling of his lips on yours, or maybe it’s because you haven’t felt the kiss of someone in so long.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re obsessed with my lips. You like kissing me.” Jungwon smirks at your reddening cheeks.

“Please, it’s just been a while. The feeling is nice is all,” you respond, pushing him lightly.

He raises his hands in surrender before walking away, toward his friends whose eyes are on him like a hawk.

“What the actual fuck is going on!” You hear Ningning from a mile away as she quickly approaches you, “Why the hell did I have to find out from Minji that you and Jungwon are dating?”

“I’ll explain in the car.”

Ningning doesn’t hesitate to ask a million and one questions about your newfound relationship, and you answer to the best of your abilities without making too many plot holes.

You tell her about the new arrangement with Jungwon picking you both up which she agrees to easily.

After dropping her off, you make your way home to relax and de-stress.

You shower before changing into more comfortable clothes.

Your parents won’t be home for a while so you sit on the couch, watching Netflix with an after school snack.

You must’ve fallen asleep on the couch because when you open your eyes, you’re in your room and not on the couch.

You check for your phone, finding it on the nightstand beside you.

The time reads 8:00pm and you sigh. Now you’ll be up all night.

Your phone begins to ring, Jungwon’s name popping up.

“Hello,” you say, grogginess evident in your voice.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, I just woke up. I fell asleep after school, my dad must’ve moved me from the couch to my bed.”

“Okay, good. Did Ningning bombard you with questions? Because my friends did.”

“She absolutely did. I stuck with our plan and tried to avoid any personal questions.”

“Speaking of, I figured we should learn more about each other if we’re gonna make this work.”

You agree and begin asking each other questions.

Favorite color, hobbies, family info, things that a couple should know about one another.

You learn that you and Jungwon actually have a lot in common. You both love action movies, dogs, cats, food of course among other things.

It feels very normal talking to him like this, and not arguing or making jabs at each other.

It feels like you’ve been on the phone forever, checking the time as it reads 10:00pm.

“We’ve been on the phone for 2 hours. It’s crazy how quickly time passes.”

You hum, feeling yourself start to get tired again.

“Are you sleepy?” Jungwon asks, and you hum once more.

“Then we should cut this call here, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The only response Jungwon gets is your quiet breathing on the other end, knowing you’ve fallen asleep.

He smiles on his end, ending the call before going to sleep himself.

The next morning, Jungwon texts you that he’ll be there to pick you up at 7:15, then you’ll swing by Ningning’s.

You get ready quietly, deciding to dress up a bit.

When Jungwon arrives, you get in the passenger's side of his car, wishing him good morning.

“Morning,” he says before kissing your cheek.

You smile, side eyeing him slightly, “You know you don’t have to kiss me when we’re not around others.”

You see his cheeks flush pink, “I know, but I figured it’s better to be as natural as possible.”

“Ah, okay. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just like kissing me,” you say, throwing his words from yesterday back at him.

“Pft!”

You playfully argue all the way to Ningning’s house.

When she gets in the car, she greets you and Jungwon like this is a normal occurrence.

You talk with Ningning the rest of the way to school, with Jungwon chiming in every once in a while.

When you arrive, Ningning leaves first, needing to see a teacher before class.

You and Jungwon get out, and he takes your hand in his larger one while he carries both your bag and his.

“Who knew you were such a sweetheart?” You laugh as he glares at you halfheartedly.

The cafeteria is where students wait for class to start if they’re at school early, so you and Jungwon find a quiet corner to occupy.

His friends come in and make their way to you.

They all greet you, albeit hesitantly as if this is all still one big prank.

You realize you’ve never taken the time to get to know any of them either, just associating them with Jungwon.

They’re actually very funny, making you laugh freely.

When the bell rings, everyone disperses.

Jungwon kisses you goodbye before handing you your bag and making his way to class while you do the same.

In class, you’re just doing self work, but people still talk quietly.

“Hey, Y/N,” a voice says from beside you.

You look up to see Yoona, the girl Jungwon was talking about.

“Hey Yoona, what’s up?” You whisper, trying not to draw any attention.

“I just wanted to ask you… since when have you and Jungwon been dating?”

She’s asking, that must mean she’s at least somewhat interested, right? This could be good for Jungwon.

“A few months. We just didn’t tell anyone cause we were kinda embarrassed.”

“Ah, I see. Good for you.”

You thank her and she goes back to her work while you do the same.

During lunch, which you unfortunately don’t share with Jungwon, you text him about Yoona.

“That’s cool, our plan must be working 😈,” he responds.

You eat with Ningning, gossiping as you always do.

Later on, Ningning texts you to tell you she won’t need a ride home. She has a project to work on with a classmate so they’re going to her house.

That leaves you and Jungwon alone in his car at the end of the day.

“Do you wanna come over?” He asks.

“Sure.”

The drive to his home is quiet, but he stops at the coffee shop to get you both something.

Your large caramel macchiato is delicious and you promise to pay Jungwon back but he dismisses you with a wave of his hand.

“Nothing’s too much for my girl.”

You don’t know why your heart beats so fast when he says that.

Arriving at his home, you leave your backpack in his car. He invites you inside and a white ball of fluff greets you eagerly.

It’s a dog and it sniffs you before jumping on your legs.

“This is Maeum,” Jungwon says, picking up the dog. “He likes meeting new people.”

“Hi Maeum!” You take the dog into your arms and he nuzzles into you immediately.

After he’s been put down, Jungwon takes you to his room.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” He asks, and you agree.

He lets you choose and you pick a recently released action film.

As you lay on his bed, Jungwon puts his arm around you, pulling you close.

The sunlight from outside shines into the room, illuminating it in a beautiful glow.

As Jungwon seems to be entirely grossed in the movie, you take the opportunity to look at him.

His dark hair is fluffy, his bangs laying on his forehead.

His jaw is sharp even as he’s relaxed and his eyes are big and wide, watching the screen intently.

You admire his face, his nose is long and big, something you’ve always found attractive.

His lips are plump and so, so kissable as you already know.

You can’t help it, you take his face into your hand, turning it towards you.

“What?” He asks, staring into your eyes.

You lean forward, connecting your lips with his.

He responds immediately, pressing harder.

You move before you even realize it, swinging your leg over his lap to straddle him.

You’re making out eagerly, running your hands through his hair while his hands travel down your back to eventually rest on your thighs.

His tongue meets yours as it gets hotter inside the room.

You don’t know how long you spend there, your body pressed against his.

By the time you separate, both your lips and his are red and swollen.

Jungwon’s eyes are narrowed as they stare at you.

“What?”

“You must really like me or something,” he says, giggling as you hit his chest before moving to get off him.

“No,” he stops you, “stay here.”

You end up laying on top of him.

It’s quiet and he’s playing with your hair, gently, trying not to disturb you.

Time passes and before you know it, it’s 8:00 pm.

“I have to go home,” you tell Jungwon, who whines in protest.

“Don’t want you to go.”

“I know, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jungwon concedes, and you both get up so he can drive you home.

The drive is quick and he’s bidding you goodbye, not before giving you a kiss.

After doing your night routine, you lay in bed, thoughts full of Jungwon.

It’s only been two days since your plan started but you feel different.

You feel happier, happier than you already were.

Is it because of Jungwon? You feel like the answer is obvious but you’re too afraid to admit it.

The next couple of days follow the same routine. You and Jungwon meet in the morning and hang out after school.

He takes you out for ice cream and coffee, takes you to the local park to have a picnic and more.

This fake relationship starts to feel more and more real everyday.

“Heeseung is hosting a party tomorrow, do you wanna go?” Jungwon asks, watching the tv while you pay attention to your phone.

You look up, “Sure.”

Jungwon hums in acknowledgment, his arm coming to wrap around your shoulders.

You unknowingly lean into his chest.

The next day, Saturday, you do nothing until it’s time to get ready for the party.

You find a pretty dress in your closet, one that’s not too revealing but just enough.

You text Jungwon a picture.

y/n: what do you think :p

wonnie ❤️: you look beautiful 🥰 i’ll be there in 5

In the car, you and Jungwon agree to stick together and send a text if you get separated.

The party is already thriving by the time you arrive.

You and Jungwon hold hands, walking through and greeting people.

You find the other guys in the kitchen, pouring drinks.

They greet you cheerfully, handing you a drink of something. You don’t know what it is, but it tastes good so you don’t complain.

You and Jungwon make your way to the dance floor, where your bodies are pressed against one another tightly.

After some time, you excuse yourself to the bathroom.

“Do you want me to come with you? I’ll stand outside?” Jungwon asks but you shake your head.

“I’ll be fine.”

Heeseung directs you to the bathroom upstairs.

You pass by people on your way there.

The light isn’t on and you knock, no one answers.

Once you deem it safe, you enter.

You lock the door and do your business.

After washing your hands, you make your way back downstairs.

Before you re-enter the living room, you hear two voices that sound familiar.

You choose to ignore it, wanting to find Jungwon.

You search for him for 5 minutes before giving up.

Making your way to the backyard, it’s empty, to your relief.

You sit on the outside table, breathing in the fresh air.

“Hey, I was looking for you,” Jungwon says from behind you.

“I was looking for you too but I got impatient after 5 minutes.” You laugh as he takes a seat beside you.

“Yoona came up to me,” he says.

“Oh? What’d she have to say?”

Jungwon takes a deep breath in, “She confessed to me.”

Oh.

“Oh? That’s…great, no? This is what you wanted. That means we can end this whole thing and—”

“I rejected her,” Jungwon says firmly.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “But the whole plan was to get her to fall for you, I don’t understand?”

“I rejected her because I realized that I really like you. I know it’s only been a couple of days but you’re nothing like I thought you were. We feuded because I was being petty. I never took the time to really get to know you. You’re…amazing, to put it lightly. You’re smart and kind, funny, we have so much in common and at this point I don’t see myself with anyone except you.”

You reel in Jungwon’s confession. Here you thought he was going to break everything off.

“Jungwon, I like you too, a lot.”

He lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, “You do?”

“Yeah, I’ve realized how sweet and kind you are. The thought of you being with Yoona made me crazy but I didn’t want to get hurt by rejection.”

“Well you don’t have to worry. You have me, no matter what.”

He kisses you, fiery and passionately.

The next day as you walk hand in hand with Jungwon around town, you think you’ve hit the jackpot.

© AEWON 2024

[callme-holly]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could please do the outsiders gang with a little Curtis sister!reader? Like readers a year younger than ponyboy? Also can it be hc’s please?

'𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐞'𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫' [𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - Ahhhhh, i literally love this concept so much. Hope ya'll enjoy and as always my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 671 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - none!!

The gang are so protective of you oh my god

You may only be a year younger than Pony but they will still bend over backwards to ensure that you are safe.

You are Darry’s whole world. He cares about you so much that it’s almost suffocating. If anything happens to you, you best believe he is sticking up for you in a heartbeat.

Sometimes it can get a little frustrating. The boys will baby you and you will have to stand your ground when they get a little too much.

You are never allowed to walk home alone, and I mean never. There will always be someone there to walk you to and from wherever it is you need to go. It’s dangerous out there and they will not risk you being jumped.

Speaking of which, if you did ever happen to get jumped, the gang is by your side in seconds. Dallas, Steve, and Darry will literally put someone in the hospital for you if need be.

You give the boys a run for their money. If they get put on “baby-sitting” duty you show them pretty quickly that you don’t need looking after.

Sodapop is your best friend and you can’t tell me otherwise. He’s that person you can go to when you’ve got a problem and actually feel comforted afterwards. He’ll take you to the DX with him and let you help out as well as letting you take whatever you want from the store. Steve doesn’t really like it (he’s jealous that you’re stealing away his best friend) but he warms up to you being around after a while.

Going to the movies with Ponyboy and hanging out in the lot with him and Johnny after!!

If you think Darry is hard on Pony, just wait until you get home a few minutes past curfew. He will go mental. Like I said, he cares a whole lot about you and isn’t gonna have your future wasted. Sure, he has near impossible expectations for you a lot of the time, but just talk to him and he’ll try to go easy.

The other kids at school hardly ever mess with you. They’ve seen how scary your brothers and the rest of the gang are and they really aren’t looking to be spending their days in hospital.

If you’re struggling in classes, Pony will drop everything to help you out. You will both sit and study until Darry is on your ass about getting to bed.

Sometimes the gang can be a little too protective. It’s suffocating having to have someone with you everywhere you go and while they mean well you have had multiple arguments with them about how you can take care of yourself.

Dallas has definitely taught you how to fight, much to Darry’s dismay. You need to be able to hold your own and Dallas is going to teach you everything he’s learnt during his time on the streets.

Two-bit is the go to “baby-sitter”. He’s more than happy to go anywhere you want and he actually lets you have some form of freedom. Maybe that’s because he himself has the mentality of a small child but regardless, if Darry wants someone to look after you, make sure you request Two-bit.

Johnny loves spending time with you. You’re calm and someone he can talk to when he needs to. When he stays over some nights, you will sit up with him and Pony and talk until the sun comes up.

At first, Steve didn’t like you. He genuinely believed you were going to steal Sodapop away from him and hated when you came along to the DX. He doesn’t care if you’re a year younger than Pony, you’re still a kid in his eyes, and he’ll treat you as such. After a while though, he starts to warm up to you, you’re his best friend’s little sibling after all.

Needless to say, the whole gang loves you and would do anything for you <333

[innerfare]

Sanji Fluff // Angst Compilation

Summary: A compilation of Sanji angst and fluff from my multi character posts (You're Wounded, Brushing Your Teeth Together, Flowers, Type of Date, You See His Cabin, Fighting and Making Up, Paradise, Nightmares, I Love You, You're Jealous).

Genre: Fluff // Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

You’re Wounded: 

Fusses over you while you see to your own wound, feels like they dodged a bullet, blames themselves for any harm that comes to you. “Never again,” they promise themself, bringing you a hot cup of tea to soothe you. 

Brushing Your Teeth Together: 

Slings his arm around you, gets a little too distracted by the sight of you brushing your teeth, ends up standing there with his mouth open and his toothbrush hanging out. Ends up speed running his when you’re finished so he can follow you out of the bathroom. 

Flowers: 

Classic red roses, at least a dozen at a time. He’ll buy you roses in shades of white and pink, as well as the occasional yellow, but a dozen red roses is his go to. He also makes very good use of the petals. Doesn’t need a special occasion to present you with a bouquet. In fact, he always makes sure you have fresh flowers on your nightstand. Additionally, he’s learned to cook a few dishes with edible flowers in them for you, presenting you with all manner of chamomile, chive blossom, and pansy dishes. 

Type of Date: 

This man will take you on the best picnic of your life, a picnic so good he’ll have you wondering why you ever thought restaurants were the epitome of fine dining. It won’t just be delicious, it will be an aesthetic dream, with a wicker basket, checkered blanket, and even a small bouquet of flowers in a glass jar. If he takes you on a picnic beneath the stars, he’ll light candles and be sure to have an extra blanket to keep you warm. Oh, and champagne. Definitely will open a bottle of champagne. 

You See His Cabin For The First Time: 

Sparkling clean, and yet, he’ll apologize anyway because the pillows aren’t fluffy enough, the rug isn’t completely straight, etcetera. His closet is very well organized, all of his clothes ironed and properly taken care of (Sanji’s the rare type to actually read labels and do his laundry accordingly). His most prized possession is a book on the All Blue, which he’s poured over countless times, using color coded tabs to flag various pages and writing detailed notes in the margins. He also came across one of Zeff’s old wanted posters in Loguetown, and he keeps it framed next to his own, the closest thing he has to a family photo. 

Fighting and Making Up: 

He’s far too protective over you, and it causes a lot of fights. He treats you like a china doll, and though that can be quite nice at times, he needs to understand you’re not made of glass. Alternatively, he’s the type to get upset with you for being too friendly to other men. There was also a miscommunication where he cooked something you didn’t like and you weren’t exactly gentle in your reaction to it, you thinking he already knew you didn’t like that thing when he didn’t actually know, him thinking you had an issue with his cooking and not an issue with one of the ingredients. He’s the type to bring you flowers even if you were in the wrong in order to jumpstart the making up process. Your fights never last long because Sanji can’t sleep, can’t eat, can barely even pull himself out of bed if the two of you are on the outs (early childhood trauma can be that way). 

Paradise 1: 

Wandering through a flower field and picking some of the more beautiful blooms that catch your eye, sprawling out on a picnic blanket in the late morning to bask in the sweet scent, enjoying the breeze as it ruffles your hair, weaving some of the flowers you picked into a delicate crown that they wear proudly while the two of you share sweet kisses. 

Paradise 2: 

Waiting until late evening to meet beneath a peach tree, speaking at first in hushed tones, worrying someone is on to the two of you, eventually forgetting about all of that and settling into easy conversation about nothing and everything simultaneously, him jumping up to pick a peach for you to have as an evening snack, you taking advantage of the last bit of light to carve both of your initials into the tree trunk. 

Nightmares: 

You’re in the clutches of his brothers while his father watches on in approval, and he’s trying to save you but to no avail. Suddenly, he’s seven years old again- too small, too slow, too weak to put up a fight, completely at the mercy of his brothers. Only, they aren’t tormenting him, they’re tormenting you, and from the looks on their faces, they sure are enjoying it. The look on your face, though, is one of complete anguish. And then you scream in pain, and he’s awake again, sitting up in bed with a sheen of sweat on his skin, the image of your face in such pain burned into his brain. He doesn’t register that it was only a nightmare until he puts eyes on you, and even then, it takes him several days to recover from the nightmare. 

I Love You: 

Sanji technically confesses first, but you’re the one who actually says those three words. He’s holding your hand in both of his, clutching it close to his racing heart, as he looks down at you, telling you all the ways you make his life better, all the things he’s looking forward to doing with you, all the energy he’s going to put into keeping you happy, healthy, and safe. And the words just sort of fall from your lips. He stops mid sentence, eyes wide and mouth open. The seconds drag on in silence before he’s pulling your lips to his. Both of you are very generous with these three words, saying them often and in public. If you ever hang up the transponder snail without telling him you love him, he’s calling you right back to make sure everything is alright. (Also, not really relevant, might do a separate post about this, but Sanji is definitely a heart-shaped jewelry sort of guy. He just is. Certified lover boy.)��

You’re Jealous: 

Even with a third eye, Pudding is stunning. And Sanji almost married her. It was before you two were together, but listening to the stories from Whole Cake, hearing how close he came to marrying another woman, knowing she really did fall in love with his kind heart and wonderful cooking, turns you into a little green monster. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous of a woman you’ve never met before, a woman Sanji chose not to marry, but you can’t help it. Sanji is completely shocked that you would feel jealous over his relationship (if it could even be called that) with Pudding, though after thinking about it some more, he does realize why you might be jealous that he had a fiancé. His solution is to bring you a bouquet of roses and walk you through the dark details of his life, telling you things he’s never outright told anyone, so you understand the special place you have in his life. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[cloudcountry]

kiss me more (book six spoilers)

SUMMARY: Vil wonders why the Prefect has been avoiding him lately, only to find that the answer is very interesting.

CHARACTER: Vil Schoenheit.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: who else freaked the fuck out when vil kissed their cheek in game? i am raising my hand. i was so freaked out that i had to brain dump and now this exists. vil stans come eat.

~~~~~

Vil doesn’t quite understand what’s gotten into the Prefect ever since they returned from Styx. Whenever he is in their general vicinity, they make a run for it with a panicked look on their face. It’s starting to get irritating, because he can’t even confront behavior with how good they’ve gotten at avoiding him.

And so he hunts them down. They’re almost certainly at Ramshackle at this hour, and if this is what it takes for them to give him the explanation he wants, he will corner them on their own turf.

Vil knocks on the door and receives a quiet  “I’m coming!” from inside. Footsteps follow, and when he hears the door unlocking he braces for their inevitable escape attempt.

Attempt, because they aren’t getting away again.

The second the door opens, he catches it with his hand. He doesn't force himself in, he’s not a brute. He just stands there and watches their expression shift from panic to guilt.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asks, voice level and calm, “Have I done something to offend you?”

“Um-! I mean, no…” they murmur, looking anywhere but him, “You’re better off just not knowing, okay? I’m sorry-”

“I want to know.” he says, unrelenting as he narrows his eyes at them.

“I…It’s so embarrassing-! Please don’t laugh at me, okay?” they cover their face with their hands as they speak, and he hears the whispery scream that follows.

“Why in Twisted Wonderland would I laugh at you?” he shakes his head and sighs, “I’m not here to judge you. I just want an explanation.”

“I can’t stop thinking about what you did at Tartarus!” they blurt out, “Every time I think about you kissing my cheek I die! I can’t be around you after that, I would fumble and trip all over myself and be a nuisance! It would be embarrassing!”

Vil stands in shock as they cover their face again, clearly flustered beyond belief. Oh, this is so entertaining. He really should be kinder, but he has half a mind to tease them right now.

He shouldn’t.

But he does.

“Oh, is that right?” he chuckles, reaching out and peeling their hands away from their very warm face, “If you wanted another one, all you had to do was ask.”

“W…What?!” they shriek, hands trembling fiercely in his gentle grasp, “What are you talking about?! You can’t just-!”

“Oh, but I can. Will you allow me?” he hums, letting go of their hands in order to cup their face, “It would be a pleasure.”

“I…I…I…” their mouth moves but no words come out, and Vil can’t help but think they’re just downright adorable right now.

He tilts their head and leans in, giving them the room they need to pull away if this is not what they want.

They don’t move.

He holds them reverently as he presses a kiss to their cheek, letting it linger before he pulls away. He can practically feel how warm their face is from his teasing, and it fills him with a smug satisfaction. Who else could make them this speechless?

“What was that for?!” they shriek, frantically waving their hands around their neck and face, “You-! You can’t just do that-!”

“I do hope you’ll stop ignoring me now.” Vil smiles smugly as he stares at them adoringly.

They’re still babbling, attempting to regain their thought process, but he knows they understand.

And if not, he’ll just have to teach them again.

[fantasylandloser]

Attention

warnings: mention of not having food, kissing, suggestive, glenn being a gossip, if there are more let me know

a/n- there might be a part two for *whispers* smut

(update pt. 2)

************

“Where’d ya get this?” Daryl asks, snapping the strap of your bra. It’s the girliest thing he’s ever seen you wear. He imagined you must have liked little frilly bras before the infection.

“Found it.” Is your simple answer. He grunts, barely an acknowledgment. “Same for all this?” He questions nodding his head towards the assortment of lip gloss and hair products and girly shit that he didn’t know the name of. 

“Yep.” Another grunt. 

“Sounds like a waste of a run.” He judges, but it doesn’t bother you, you know how surly he can be. 

“We didn’t go for it, we stumbled across it.” You explain but you’re barely paying attention to him, you’re too busy looking in the mirror trying to make yourself as pretty as possible. More like how you looked before all this started. 

“We?” Daryl asks, barely able to keep your attention.

“Me, Maggie and Michionne.” You answer as you fuss over your hair. Daryl grunts again and you cut your eyes at him. 

“Will you stop that? If you have something to say just say it.” You wait for him to tell you how stupid you look trying to pretty yourself up in the middle of the fucking apocalypse, in a prison at that. 

“It’s just not like you, s’all.” 

‘“It used to be,” You pause taking a deep breath, before running your fingers through your hair. “Before the world got blown to shit, I used to love this, had it down to a science. Now I can barely remember how I kept up with all of it.” 

“You don’t need it.” Daryl tells you. “All this for that guy?” He knows better, but he asks anyway. His curiosity had been peaked ever since you started disappearing at odd hours of the day only to reappear with him. You also hadn’t seemed like you were interested in making any connection outside of your friendship with Daryl and the others you were at the farm with.

At a certain point you’d been his shadow basically, damn near mirroring everything he did, until you ditched him for some douchebag you hardly knew. It went from you being at his side practically 24/7 to it taking up to an hour for him to find you. 

You roll your eyes at him. “It’s for me. And you know his name.” 

“Yeah well I don’t think Mark would like it if he knew you were prancin’ around in this frilly shit in front of me.” You scoff trying not to laugh at him saying his name in such contempt.

“You can leave if you want.” He doesn’t. “ Mark and I aren’t even together.”

“Fooled me.” He tells you gruffly. He tries not to feel too disappointed when you start to shimmy into your pants, the tightest pair you own, or look at the curve of your ass when they get stuck under your thighs momentarily. 

‘“Might be time to trade those.” He says gesturing to the jeans that just barely fit you but make you look so, so good. 

“Maybe.” You agree. “None of my damn pants fit right anymore.” You complain. Daryl knew what you meant but couldn’t help thinking they fit just right. 

“It’s cuz’ we actually have food to eat now. Ain’t that a good thing?” He reminds you and you can’t help the feeling of gratitude for all you have now.

“Yeah. The best thing.” 

After you throw your shirt over your head you start to speak again. “Okay do I look like a woman again?” You ask, doing a quick spin for Daryl. His heart picks up when you look back at him, seeming to want his approval. 

“You never stopped lookin’ like one, last I checked.” You give him a look of indignation, before sighing. Wrong Answer.

********

“Why didn’t you just tell her?” Glenn asked.

“Cuz’ it wasn’t for me. It’s for him.” Daryl nodded down at Mark, who was twiddling his thumbs waiting for you. 

“Dude, the only reason she’s even paying attention to him is because you’re practically a nun.” Glenn says before pausing. “That’s what Maggie told me anyway.” If she were standing beside him she’d hit him upside his head for never being able to keep a secret. 

“Maggie told you what now?” 

Glenn sighs knowing that gossiping is going to come back to bite him in the ass. He does it anyway because he can’t keep a secret to save his life. 

“Yeah man, Maggie told me that the woman basically walks around you half naked and you don’t want her. I also saw the shit they came back with so if you ignored her in that, then I’d say you’ve given her a pretty good reason to believe you aren’t interested.” Glenn glances over at Daryl, seeing the look of confusion.

“I didn’t ignore her.” Daryl says sharply. “I didn’t know it was some sorta’ test.” He huffs, not liking that his friend knew all this and he was left in the dark, about you of all things.

“It’s not a test bro, she was trying to get your attention. I mean in my opinion I think she should come right out and say it, that’s what Maggie did but maybe she doesn’t know how to at this point.”

“Maggie dragged your ass through the mud before the two of you got together. That’s how I remember it, walker bait.” Daryl smiles a bit knowing you told him that, but you’re not as much of a gossip as Glenn.

“Shut up, man.”

When you finally get to the bonfire, Daryl sees the moment Mark lays eyes on you, but he whistles to catch your attention before you can go over to him. 

“Glenn needs a break , you wanna fill in for ‘em?” Glenn makes a noise of amusement at his obvious lie, becoming even more amused when you scrunch your face up but then agreeing anyway. 

You’re in the guard tower for ten minutes before Daryl says something, instead of the utter silence. “Glenn told me something..” He starts. He hears you mutter a ‘fuck’ under your breath knowing that he wasn’t good at keeping a thing to himself and Maggie kept nothing from him.

“That’s never good.”

“Not for anyone that shares secrets with him.” You hum in agreement. 

“So what did he tell you?” You ask, not wanting to draw out the conversation. 

“How many secrets of yours does he know?” He asks you, his eyebrow drawn up and you don’t hear it but he has to bite back the jealousy. 

“Between him and Maggie, way too many.” You admit. Daryl grunts, displeased that you share things with them that you don’t with him. He gets it. Doesn’t mean he has to like it. 

“If you have something to say to me I think you should say it.” Neither of you are looking at each other, instead you’re both scanning the perimeter. You wanted to curse Glenn for putting you in the predicament where you might have to say something you just wanted to be. 

When you remain silent. He pushes again, he just wants to hear it from you. “It’s not gonna be on me if you don’t say anything.” You inhale a deep breath.

“You know how I feel about you, Dixon.” Not enough. 

“I don’t.” He counters. 

“You do.” You huff and he watches you out of the corner of his eye, sees the slight flame in your cheeks and wonders if it's from embarrassment or anger. You just might be as bad as this as he is. It’s cute.

“I think I’ve made it pretty clear.” You add much to Daryl’s shock. So much so, that he drops his gun just to look at you better. 

“How do you figure that?” You give him a pointed look and he grins in his realization. “I thought you just liked the attention.” You scoff at his words. 

“Your attention, dumbass. You don’t see me running around in my underwear in front of anyone else.”And you are specific to only his attention. The way he looks at you inspires a feeling in you that hasn’t been accomplished by any other man. 

“Well you don’t needa be so mad about it.” You exhale because you are mad and you’re not entirely sure why. 

“If you don’t want me just say that. I don’t see any reason-” You’re cut off by a rough grab of the front of your shirt. He kisses you, it’s quick, somehow deep, then it’s over. 

“Y’er beautiful. With or without the extra shit. You understand me?” It takes you a moment to realize he’s answering your earlier question. You nod, slightly flustered, your thoughts and words failing you. 

“Good. Go tell Glenn he can come back.”

[archonsbane]

AND I TRY TO TALK REFINED

The one time Il Dottore speaks to you in another language, the one time he speaks to someone else in another language, and the one time you give him a taste of his own medicine.

pairing. dottore x reader

tags & content warnings. gn!reader. reader is the tsaritsa's child. reader is referred to by they/them. there's one (1) mildly suggestive sentence (and it's in a different language lol).

word count. 2.9k

author's note. so. i'm back from the dead. i have two fics for pantalone and one for diluc, around 8k+ words. (none of them are finished LMFAO) but of course i drop everything for this stupid ass man. the reader here is my tsaritsa’schild!reader, though this takes place before beauty is terror. this is set in the early days of their relationship and the start of dottore’s involvement in the fatui. reader's backstory is also implied here, but not outright stated. also i got inspiration from @fatuismooches lovely headcanons, though i strayed a bit far HAHA. thank you for letting me write this! and thank you to my two lovely delulu friends (you know who you are) bc i suddenly got into the mood to write because of them.  also, what is heavily implied to be the script of khaenri'ah in-game is based on latin, so i headcanon that latin is the language of khaenri'ah. also i had to sneak in a tsh reference lmfao it was too perfect not to. i promise i don't include it in all my fics it just so happens to be perfect for certain situations huhu. also i hope you guys catch all the little details i put in! reader and dottore have always been like this lol the title is from 'talk' by hozier.

You are undoubtedly the worst teacher Dottore has ever had, bar none. 

Flighty, distracted, and prone to seamlessly maneuvering to an entirely different topic without blinking an eye, leaving him dumbfounded. Your teaching sessions, if they could be called that, are filled with constant interrogations of his life and large infusions of food. Half the time you aren’t even teaching him, you’re simply rambling about whatever it is you ramble about (he’s learned to tune you out, partly because he doesn’t care and partly because he can’t understand what you’re saying). He is truly reconsidering forgoing learning Snezhnayan — at the pace you're going, he might as well take his chances and learn by himself.  

“But Mother said,” you remind him, petulantly, like a small child. Yes, the Tsaritsa commanded him to learn Snezhnayan, and commanded you to teach him, but he is greatly tempted to ask her to send another teacher. It has only been two weeks since your lessons begun and he might truly go mad. Sometimes he thinks this might be the worst thing a divine being has ever inflicted on him.

In truth, he already knows Snezhnayan, but only enough to hold a polite conversation. It is his least favorite of the languages he learned from his teachers in the Akademiya, and anyway, he never quite had a deftness for tongues. He is always most at home working with his hands, destroying and creating physical matter, covered in dust and soot, cracking open the world’s secrets like an egg. But the Tsartisa willed him to learn, and he is nothing if not a scholar. 

“But Mother said,” he mocks, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. He’s learned that you have no convictions about his personality. If anything, you seemed to embrace it. Whereas he dons a respectful — as respectful as he can conjure, anyways — mask with the Jester and the Tsaritsa, it’s… looser, with you. Still, he is careful not to cross the line. He is only allowed this because he amuses you. You've been treating him like some sort of pet to be played with whenever you desire since his coming here. “Your mother also said to teach me how to speak Snezhnayan, but this is the third time you’ve called for snacks in three hours.” 

You flash a lazy glare at him and go back to eating your beloved pastilas. “You require a tremendous amount of effort to teach.” You’ve switched back to speaking the common tongue, obviously for his sake. “You’re a horrible student.” 

“You’re a horrible teacher!” 

You sniff and take another bite of your pastry. “You’re just really bad at learning.” 

For that, you get a glance heavenward. He is tempted to simply throttle you and be done with it. Treason seems like a fair price to pay for shutting you up. But he considers his options and decides that he would rather not be on the receiving end of your mother’s wrath — it’s too fucking cold here already. Still, greatly offended by this statement, he vents out his anger by cursing at you.

In the language of Sumeru. 

He does not really think of it; his use of his mother tongue has greatly decreased since coming here, but even then, it simply rolls off his tongue as naturally as water flows from a river's mouth.

Your brows shoot up. You open your mouth, pause, and for a moment he fears he is in danger of being exiled or thrown in the dungeon. But then you cock your head to the side. “What does that mean?” You ask. 

An idea unravels in his mind, sparkling with mischief. “It means you’re bad at teaching.” 

You frown. “For some reason, I feel like you’re lying.” 

He curses at you again. Your frown deepens. There is something so satisfying about the way those frustrated lines burrow into your face. When he does it a third time, you actually put down the pastila. 

“What does it mean?” You demand. “You aren’t saying anything bad, are you?” 

It means you’re an insufferable little bastard of mean intelligence and he hopes you fall into a ditch, so yes, he definitely is saying something bad. “It means you’re the most gorgeous, most wonderful person in the world,” he says, sarcasm dripping from the syllables. When you look genuinely taken aback, he lets out a cruel, derisive scoff. “It means you should trust me more.” 

“That seems like a horrible idea.” 

He shrugs and reaches over to take one of the pastilas, light pink with a white, foamy top, vaguely aware that another one of your language lessons has gone considerably off course. Perhaps that was too light a description. It shot in one direction and came speeding back the other way. “Suit yourself, Your Imperial Highness.” 

You smack his hand away, gently. Almost too gently. “Those are mine.” 

He eats it, anyway, and learns many new colorful Snezhnayan curses for it, though he detects no real annoyance in your voice. You ring for another batch of desserts. He counts it as a successful lesson. 

He continues speaking in Sumerian when you're near. It’s the greatest of treasures, seeing you frown and demand to know what he had just uttered in your presence. Sometimes he just says the first phrase that enters his head, most times he insults you and relishes in your clueless blinking. You can't do the same to him — he's been picking up on Snezhnayan at an exponential pace, and he's made sure to memorize all of the insults and swears first. Obviously. It’s his talent for machinations that he prides himself on, but lately, he’s been deriving vicious pleasure from the fact he can speak twenty languages, though it never mattered much to him before. It’s a good, safe outlet for his annoyance whenever you’re near, which you seem to always be, nowadays. 

Even outside the language ‘lessons’ (the word lessons being used extremely lightly) you seem to trail him wherever he goes. Ambushing him in the halls, materializing in the laboratory, and in general trailing him like some attention-starved puppy. He resents it, resents the stars that float through your eyes whenever he enters your view, resents the way you immediately disengage from whatever it was that you were doing to attach yourself to him, all smiles. 

He actively avoids you, but somehow you keep running into him. On purpose or accidentally, he has no idea. He suspects it is the former.

Today is one of those days. You’re by his side, again, chatting happily about… something. He’s trying to tune you out, focusing on the long walk back to his laboratories after a meeting with the Tsaritsa. He needs to do something about that, it’s woefully inconvenient to have to walk a mile every time she calls on him. Some sort of contraption that could go up and down easily would be of great use, and he wouldn’t have to climb so many fucking stairs.

Then — it happens. In your excitement, you bump into some government official accompanied by another, what his role is Dottore does not know and does not care to, but he must be quite high up if he allows himself to glare at you for an instant before it disappears into a cool stare. Or maybe he just has a lot of gall.

"Oh, my apologies sir," you murmur, ducking your head. 

"Quite alright, Your Highness," he says smoothly, "have a good day." He turns his back and starts to mutter to his companion, their heads bent together, completely unaware that with your godly senses and his recent enhancements to his body, you both can hear every word.

"How clumsy," the first man tuts, "what does their mother teach them? She's been too soft on them."

"She lets them run amok doing whatever they please. The other day, they—"

"—yes, I heard. Look at those clothes, aren't they too plain for the heir?"

His companion makes an agreeing noise. "And the company they keep… " 

Dottore doesn't particularly care about what other people think of him, and perhaps if it was only the last sentence that had been uttered he wouldn't have said a word, but the tirade of their complaints makes irritation, absurdly, flare inside him. He whips his head back to their retreating figures, and you throw him a glaring warning, so he clenches his jaw and stays where he is. He isn't one to do nothing, however. 

“Kol khara,” he says to them, viciously. Eat shit. He hears you stifle a sound that might be a laugh and briefly wonders why exactly you would laugh. 

The men turn back around. “Excuse me?” The first one says. 

“Nothing,” he says, curtly, his eyes like sharp daggers, “go on." They throw each other confused glances but say nothing further, going further down the hall until he can no longer see their backs. You both stay in the middle of the now-empty hallway, staring silently off into the distance.

You’ve never been able to contain your curiosity for long. After a good minute of silence, you turn inquisitive eyes on him. He’s been expecting your question.

"What did you say?" You ask.

He shrugs; makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Nothing."

You narrow your eyes. "I know it isn't nothing. It was something bad, right? You've said it to me before.” Clever you, he thinks briefly. Nothing gets past you. When he stays enclosed in icy silence, you press on further, “I won’t be mad. It doesn’t bother me — I think it’s funny. Just tell me.” He has no idea why you would ever think it’s funny. Nonetheless, he stays silent. 

You try again. “Tell me.” 

“No.” 

“Please?” 

“No.” 

“Tell me,” you say again, but this time you slip into the voice of the noble, unshakeable heir to Winter. The two words are a command, and they leave no room for argument. He must follow. 

He sighs and runs a hand down his face. “It means I want them to eat shit.” 

A moment of silence passes and Dottore wonders if he should start running. Then, you start to laugh. A small laugh, so small he almost thinks he could cup it in his hands and never let it go. But he recognizes it as different from the laughs you’ve given him before. This one is warm and sweet, conjured from the belly upwards. Summer in a sound. 

He tries very hard not to smile when he says, “you aren’t mad?” 

“No,” you say, still laughing, “I suppose I do deserve it.” He silently agrees. “Anyways, after coming to my defense, I forgive you.” 

He snarls, that sudden irritation reviving itself. “I wasn’t coming to your defense.” 

You shrug, not looking bothered at all. “Fine. Defending yourself and by extension — and complete coincidence — me.” 

He decides it is best not to argue, and listens quietly as you walk with him back to his laboratory, chatting happily away once more. If you notice that over the next few days, his outbursts toward you decrease, you say nothing of it. And if you notice he is insulting other people more in other languages, seemingly for the sole purpose of making you laugh, you say nothing of it, too. 

You’re speaking Sumerian. 

Fluent Sumerian. Rapid-fire Sumerian, without blinking or stumbling over your words. Clean, pure Sumerian, speaking everything with the perfect enunciation of a noble. You don’t notice him behind you, utterly bemused, as you speak to a foreign dignitary from his homeland. The First drags him out of the underground labs from time to time in order to socialize and familiarize himself with the political atmosphere, but Dottore lets you do all the work for him. You engage in polite small talk, though delivered with much more enthusiasm than necessary. But the words are barely intelligible in his head. It isn’t possible that you’ve learned how to speak fluent Sumerian in such a short about of time. He will begrudgingly admit your brightness, small as it is, but even he cannot master a language within a few months. Which means there must only be one conclusion. 

When you notice him, your face morphs into one of surprised panic. Oh. He’s sure his fury is plain to see. It’s at that precise moment the dignitary — Dottore does not see the point in blessings but, Archons bless her — chooses to excuse herself, leaving you open and without a proper excuse to escape with. 

“You can speak Sumerian,” he says, plainly, having immediately taken the empty spot at your side. You take  cautious, half-step backwards. 

You look both amused and slightly abashed. 

He grits his teeth. “For how long?” 

“... since I was five." A pause. You look thoughtful. "Actually, it was your Greater Lord Rukkhadevata who first taught me."

This new piece of information surprises him so much that the flames of his anger are snuffed out, if only for a second. Then they come back raging, and he cannot contain it.

"You knew what I was saying this entire time!" He rages, jabbing an accusing finger at you. You cringe away. "You could understand all of it!"

"Not all of it—" When you see the exasperation that crosses his face, you smile. "Alright. Most of it." 

You begin to walk away, but he furiously follows you. "You lied to me!"

"You were cursing me to my face. I think it's a fair exchange." You shrug with one shoulder, eyes sparkling with mischief. "It was funny, anyway. Your cluelessness, that is." And then, "you should know, now that you know — I can speak the main languages of each nation." 

"I can too," he says haughtily, raising his chin up at you. 

"Really?" You laugh. "Cubitum eamus?"

"What?"

"Nothing." 

"What does that mean?" He demands, only half aware he's repeating the interaction you once had over a plate of pink and white sweets. He's never heard a language sounding quite like that. Perhaps it could be a dialect, but it doesn't sound similar to any currently existing language. "What language is that?"

You deliver your coup de grâce with such smooth smugness on your face. "It's Khaenri'ahn." The dead language. 

He blinks. Opens his mouth dumbly. And lunges.

As he chases you through the halls, your laughter floats warm and clear in the frigid winter air. You easily outpace him, but perhaps out of pity, you let him catch you and drag you to — well, he doesn't exactly know where he's going, only that he does not want to let you escape his rage. You thrash in his arms like a trapped animal, still controlled by a laughing fit all the while. 

"I hate you," he grumbles later, when you've calmed him with a slice of strawberry cheesecake from the kitchens. He's still quite angry, but not angry enough to not accept your peace offering. "You're horrible."

"So are you." 

A pause, then, "Teach me Khaenri'ahn," he says, leaning forward, a bright idea sparking in his chest. "There's so many texts I have yet to decipher — you have no idea the knowledge I can grasp if you teach me." He thinks of the old Ruin Golems in Sumeru. How hard it was to learn how to control them! But with your help, with your knowledge, he could crack the world open like an egg and watch its secrets spill like yolk. 

"I thought I was a bad teacher."

"Bad is better than none at all."

The utterly offended look that flashes on your face teases a grin from his mouth. "You're horrible."

"So are you."

He thinks he sees the corner of your mouth involuntarily curl upward. You twirl your fork in your fingers, humming thoughtfully. "Why should I?" 

"... For the pleasure of contributing to my research?" The look you give him tells him you're not at all convinced. He continues, "My research that is so very essential to the success of this nation?"

You scoff, but you cannot deny it. He would not be alive if he wasn't useful to Snezhnaya.

"You'll owe me," you tell him. 

He shrugs. "There's worse things in the world. Let's start."

It startles you somewhat. "What, now?"

"Yes, now. Unless you have other things to do?" 

You don't. Your language lessons with him already ended when he reached an acceptable mastery over Snezhnayan according to your mother, and he knows that though you have a schedule (mysterious and utterly incomprehensible though it is — not even he has been able to figure it out), you'd drop everything in an instant if something else interests you. Your other engagements are often boring things, too, and the only duty you ever truly commit to are the strange missions your mother sends you on, ones that could go for months on end. He's fairly certain you'll acquiesce to his request.

You pretend to consider it, before shrugging with hardwon carelessness and saying, "Fine."

You're exactly the same. Flighty, distracted, and prone to seamlessly maneuvering to an entirely different topic without blinking an eye. Half the cheesecake is eaten before you even start on the alphabet, and the journey to that is filled with endless detours that consist of bickering, fighting over the (large) cake, and kicking each other like children under his work table. His intelligence is insulted more times in half an hour than in his entire years of study at the Akademiya.

Dottore decides, with solid determination, after eating the last slice of cake, finally learning the pronunciation of the vowels and consonants, and being on the receiving end of an onslaught of Khaeri’ahn curses he truly cannot understand — which is horribly ironic considering the past few weeks — that he might as well beg the Jester for lessons instead, and no one can do a damn thing about it. He tells this to you, chin up, resolute and unwavering in his declaration. 

He never does get around to doing that. 

[eroselless]

PATO - ONE

series masterlist | part 2 | part 3

[charles leclerc x reader, carlos sainz x reader]

warnings: angst, fighting, mentions of pregnancy

note: I don’t listen to Billie Eilish all that much but my best friend got me hooked on her latest album and for some reason, Wildflower inspired me to write this. Might not have any correlation but ya know, when life give you lemons. Also here Charles and Carlos aren’t as close as they seem to be in real life. Hope you enjoy it!

MONACO, DECEMBER 2022 

You stand in the dim light of your living room, the soft glow of the lamps casting long shadows across the floor. It’s a wasteland of memories—two years of them, scattered like broken glass across the carpet. You feel the ache of them pressing in, and for a moment it’s almost too much to bear. 

“I feel like I’m drowning here, all on my own,” you breathe, your voice splintered and fragile. You can barely hold his gaze, not when he looks so unfazed, so unmoved. His face is a mask you can’t seem to decipher. “You’re always gone, Charles. What are we even doing?”

Charles rubs his temple, a motion that is almost rehearsed, this conversation feeling like it's been had far too many times. “This isn’t just some passing thing,” he snaps, voice sharp enough to draw blood. “Racing is my life. I thought you understood that.”

“I do understand that!” The words tumble out, tangle with all the things you’ve been trying so hard to ignore. The sting in your eyes returns and you blink hard, but the tears come anyways, seemingly falling at a never ending pace. “But passion shouldn’t come at the expense of our relationship. You could come home, but you don’t!”

He shifts uncomfortably from across the room, his eyes darting away from yours to the carpeted floor below. His nostrils are flared in anger as you continue. When he finally speaks, it's veiled in frustration, as if he’s trying to be gentle but not quite succeeding. 

“When you do come home, which is hardly ever, it’s like you're not even here. You’re closed off, cold. We barely spend any time together, and when we do, it’s like you're trying to hide me away.”

Charles’s eyebrows furrow, his jaw clenching as he shoves a finger in your direction. “I keep our relationship private to protect you from the media circus, you know that!” he interjects.

You let out a heavy breath, your shoulders sagging with exhaustion. It's an excuse you’ve heard time and time again, and there's only so much of it you can handle. Your resolve wavers, your voice quiet but firm as you speak.

“I don’t care about them,” you say, voice barely a whisper. “I can handle whatever comes. But I can’t handle being invisible to you.” 

You turn and make your way down the hall, to your shared room, Charles following close behind you. All he can do is stand and watch as you start to shove things in a backpack. The silence between you is heavy, suffocating. 

As you pull on a jacket and prepare to leave, he reaches out to stop you, his voice small with confusion. “What’s happening?” he asks, his voice is softer now, vulnerable in a way that almost hurts to hear. His hand reaches for yours.

You swat it away, your own hand trembling as you do. “We are nothing but strangers bound by memories. But if you can't even be here for that, then what's the point?” you say softly. 

“You don’t need to worry about keeping us a secret anymore, Charles.”

There’s a tense silence as he struggles to process your words, tears beginning to prick at his cerulean eyes. You meet his gaze, searching for something, anything–a plea, a reason to stay. But you see none, whatever you had been hoping to find isn’t there. So you turn and slip out the door, leaving him behind in the empty silence of your once-happy home.

The train rattles forward, each clack of the wheels like a heartbeat, steady and relentless. Raindrops pater slowly against the glass, a mess of gray against the darkening world outside. Outside, the trees and grass blur together, mirroring the jumble of emotions swirling inside your chest. Your hand falls gently to your stomach, feeling the faint swell there, and you can't help but glide your fingers over it tenderly. 

With trembling fingers, you reach into your bag and pull out the pregnancy test, its plastic casing cool against your skin. It sits in your hands like a ghost, a reminder of a truth you hadn’t planned for, a future you never imagined facing alone. The two bold lines glare back at you, a stark reminder of the life beginning to grow inside you. Fear and uncertainty fill the cavities of your chest, threatening to overwhelm you. You close your eyes, tears tracing silent paths down your cheeks once again. 

Leaving Charles before telling him about the baby feels like abandoning a ship in the middle of a storm. Guilt gnaws at your chest as the train hurtles further and further away from Monaco, the distance between you and Charles widening with each passing moment. Yet the truth burns as you find yourself repeating it over and over to yourself—Charles may have been physically there, in body, but his mind has been somewhere else, somewhere distant, somewhere that was never you.

As you watch the landscape continue to blur past, your reflection in the glass is a haunting echo of the life you thought you had built.  At 21, you never expected to face the daunting prospect of motherhood on your own. It's not the path you imagined yourself on at all. You thought you would marry Charles and share the joys and challenges of this baby with him. You thought there’d be laughter, shared glances, maybe even late nights in nurseries painted with dreams But those dreams were a faint memory now, belonging to a different girl, someone you weren’t anymore. 

Charles had a way of making you feel like the world around you faded when he was around, his passion for racing a fire that burned so bright, you wanted to stay close to it and feel its warmth. You couldn’t help but love how passionate he was about racing, and admire the fire in his eyes as he chased victory on the track. But in his relentless pursuit of glory, he seemed to have left you behind with nothing but his silhouette, a mere afterthought in his quest for greatness. His fire left you feeling cold, with nothing left to hold on to but memories, shadows of a live you weren’t even sure were real. 

In that moment, you realize that in many ways, you would’ve had to raise the child on your own regardless of Charles's presence. His absence has left you feeling isolated and alone, grasping at the fragments of your fractured relationship. If you'd stayed, who knows if he would have changed? The uncertainty weighs heavily on your heart, threatening to drag you under.

With a sigh, you feel yourself sag further into the train seat, the weight of your decision pressing down on you like a leaden blanket. The ticket inspector’s voice cuts through your thoughts and you hastily produce your ticket, handing it over to him with a shaky hand. Your fingers feel numb as you watch him scan it, barely managing a polite nod.  

Across the aisle, you catch the gaze of a woman's eyes full of unspoken sympathy as she watches your fingers tighten around the pregnancy test. You give her a tight-lipped smile as the ticket inspector hands back your ticket before turning back to the window, your gaze fixed on the blurring landscape outside as you hurtle toward an uncertain future.

a/n: a little short for the first chapter but they’ll be a little longer in the future, hope you guys enjoy this first one :) also if you made it this far, I just wanted to share that the word pato means duck. It's not too important for now but it will be later! As always, thank you for reading!

[upat4amwiththemoon]

Can I get a station 19 fic that's Maya Bishop x reader but reader is Natasha's so because she's seen how reckless Maya can be she doesn't know if she likes her dating Maya. But eventually Maya proves she can be a good girlfriend.

-🤠

Sisterly protectiveness

Summary: Sisters are natural born protectors.

Pairing: Maya Bishop x Ross!reader, Natasha Ross x sister!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 1244

a/n: wasn’t sure what relation you wanted to Natasha, so I made them sisters ! Hope that’s good

masterlists | guidelines

“You’re dating lieutenant Bishop?” Natasha stands in her place with her arms crossed over her chest, and a seemingly neutral look on her face. Although, Y/N that look is anything but neutral. “Maya Bishop of Station 19? Out of all the people in Seattle you started dating her?”

Letting out a sigh, Y/N shakes her head at her older sister’s words. “Yes, I am dating Maya. And I’m very happy with her.”

“But she’s so-“ she’s losing her resolve, steadily becoming more annoyed, “she’s reckless, Y/N. You haven’t seen her the same way I have.”

“I could say the same. I see how Maya is out of the job. She is sweet, and caring, and always treats me well.”

Natasha huffs. She knows she has no say when it comes to her sister’s relationship, but she can’t help herself, that’s her little sister after all, she basically raised her before going to army. “I’m still going to keep an eye on her. I don’t trust her with you.”

“Alright,” Y/N mumbles with a small giggle, “just please, don’t give her a hard time.” She gives Natasha a look, who just rolls her eyes and nods eventually. “Thank you.” Smiling, she makes her way out of her sister’s apartment.

Y/N walks into the station with a big box of food with her. What started out as bringing lunch or dinner to her girlfriend, ended up with basically feeding the whole Station 19 team. But she doesn’t mind, she knows they work hard and do long shifts, so cooking can sometimes be too tiring.

She makes her way upstairs, a big smile on her face when she sees most of the team hanging around the kitchen. “Dinner is here!” Y/N makes herself known.

Travis is the first one to walk over to her. “Our savior!” He takes the box and brings it to the kitchen counter so everyone can take their share of the food.

While the others are busy with the food, Maya comes over to hug and kiss Y/N. “Hi, my love.” She mumbles against her lips, a smile on her face.

“Hi.” Y/N giggles. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Maya’s hand rests on Y/N’s waist, her fingers stroking her side softly. “Chief Ross is here.” She mumbles, clearing her throat as she straightens her back, as if just speaking Chief Ross’ name would make her appear out of nowhere.

“Has she done anything?”

“No, just keeps giving me looks.”

Y/N hums, “go eat.” She mumbles, kissing Maya’s cheek while gently pushing her towards the kitchen counter.

They walk over to the others, Maya making herself a plate while Y/N starts talking to the others. She quickly grew close to the whole team after getting together Maya. The team almost became like a second family, besides Robert Sullivan, but that’s just the same sisterly protectiveness that Natasha has towards her.

Maya sits down next to her, one of her hands resting on Y/N’s thigh while she eats with her free hand. “You aren’t eating with us?” She glances at her when there’s a break in the conversations going on.

“I ate before I came, wanted my hardworking girlfriend to have more to eat.” She grins, her eyes very discreetly going over Maya’s muscles.

Maya always sees it, but she likes it.

“Chief Ross!” Victoria exclaims suddenly. “Join us for dinner? Y/N brought it for us.”

“No, thank you.” Natasha’s eyes are on Y/N and Maya, studying at the latter woman’s every single move, as she has does ever since she found out they’re dating.

As Maya notices this sharp look trained on her, she goes to move her hand away from Y/N, but Y/N sets her own on top if it, giving her a reassuring smile.

“Hi, Nat.” Y/N smiles. “I didn’t know you were here today.”

“I didn’t know you’d be here either.”

Rolling her eyes with a smile, Y/N leans against Maya. “I’m here practically every day.”

Letting out a hum, Natasha nods. “I won’t be here for long, just checking on things.” Her eyes going to the hand on her sister’s shoulder at the word things, making it very clear for the three of them what she is talking about.

There’s a small frown on her face, small enough for no one else to recognize it but Y/N. The touch looks very soft, and safe. It kind of makes her feel worse, she was hoping for something to prove that Maya is irresponsible.

When Chief Ross finally leaves, Andy turns to Maya and Y/N. “Did she know you two are together?”

“I told her some time ago.”

She raises her brows, a playful grin on her face. “How’d she take that?”

“Like any older sister would.”

Y/N paces around the entry of the station, Jack’s words going straight put of her mind as she stresses for Maya’s return.

The rest of the team, and Chief Ross, are putting out a larger than average fire, and according to the news stations, it hasn’t been going too well.

“They’ll be okay.” Jack assures, his eyes following Y/N’s movement. “We know how to handle these kind of things.”

He gets no answer, just more silent pacing.

Of course she knows that the team is very capable, but she can’t help worrying about them. She’s a doomscroller, she has read every article there is about huge fires which have taken multiple firefighters’ lives.

The garage door opens. Y/N lets out a breath, her worries aren’t completely gone, but she is out of her head enough to make her way to the garage.

Everyone looks tense as they get out of the fire trucks, but they all also look alive, that’s enough for Y/N to go straight to Maya and pull her into an embrace.

Natasha sees this. She takes a step forward, ready to intervene in case Maya snaps because of her less than ideal mood.

“Baby.” Y/N whispers, one of her hands burrowing into Maya’s hair while the other rubs her back.

Maya wraps her arms around Y/N’s waist, pushing her face into the crook of her neck. “I’m okay.”

“You’re okay.”

She gives small smiles to the others, glad that they all got away with minimal damage, but otherwise she keeps all of her attention on her girlfriend.

After a while, her eyes connect to Natasha, who is still standing on her place. “Go change. I’ll drive you home and to work tomorrow, yeah? So you can leave your car here.” She whispers, kissing Maya before the blonde makes her way upstairs where the rest of the team is.

“Are you okay?” Y/N throws her arms around Natasha’s neck, bringing her to a hug.

“Yeah,” Natasha lets out a breath, “everyone’s a little beat up, but they’ll survive.” She mumbles, pulling away. They stare at each other for a minute. “Listen, I’m sorry. For doubting Maya. She’s..good to you, and you are good to her.”

Y/N smiles. “She’s the greatest.” She whispers. “Will be able to take care of yourself if I go take care of Maya?”

“Of course. Go care for your girlfriend.”

Giving Natasha a one last hug, Y/N goes upstairs to sit beside Maya in the dressing room and waiting for her to get ready to go home.

[lowkeyerror]

A New Victim

Sam Carpenter x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Notes: 1st part of a lil mini-series, had to post something for Halloween, will contain suspected Scream warnings eventually

Summary: You knew something of the rumors surround your classmate, Tara but you never took them seriously. However you find yourself wrapped up in the real life horror story.

Pt2 | Pt3 | Masterlist

You had heard the rumors about Tara Carpenter and her sister circulating around campus. The rumors didn’t bother you much. Or rather they didn’t persuade you to treat your classmate, Tara, any differently than you would treat anyone else.

Some people were afraid to interact with her in fear of pissing her off. They were more afraid that getting on Tara’s bad side would alert her sister, Sam.

Now Sam was a little scary. You had seen her with Tara a few times. The woman looked like her primary state of being was upset. She looked like a very serious figure.

You didn’t blame her. Their whole group of friends had almost been murdered. Instead of sympathy and compassion the public offered accusations and scrutiny. So much so that they moved away from their hometown to escape the media.

“You’re friends with my sister, right?”

You were sat under a tree on campus the first time you heard Sam speak. Looking at her this close made your heart flutter. She was an attractive woman and that was enough to make you sweat a bit.

Unable to speak for a moment, you nod dumbly.

Sam ignores it and continues with her questioning,” Have you seen her today? I’ve been looking for her everywhere and I can’t find her.”

“She left class a bit early today. I think she said something about Chad needing her help with something.”

Sam rolls her eyes, “Of course she did. I’m Sam by the way, sorry to interrupt you."

Before you can say your own name, the younger Carpenter sister is shouting it as she approaches the tree with Chad trailing behind her.

“Y/n! Don’t mind my overprotective and obsessive sister. What ever she threatened you with, I can promise she won’t do.”

“Where have you been? Y/n told me you left class to meet Chad.”

Tara glares at the girl sitting,” You told her I skipped.”

You shrug,” She seemed worried, so I just told her you left with Chad.”

“Where I am is none of her business. She has my number if she’s looking for me.”

Sam scoffs, “Having your number doesn’t mean shit if you don’t answer your fucking phone.”

“I think we should all just calm down for a second, okay. Tara is safe and everything is fine,” Chad tries to de-escalate the situation.

“No, it’s not fine Chad. Why is my sister skipping classes to meet up with you? And why isn’t she answering my text or calls?”

Y/n had no place in this conversation, but she felt like moving away would only cause a bigger fuss.

“Because we were fucking. Is that what you want to hear Sam?”

Sam runs a hand through her hair,” I don’t care that you’re fucking. I care that I can’t get in contact with you when I’m worried about you.”

“What are you worried about?”

Sam looks at the girl as if she’s grown two heads,” Are you fucking serious Tara?”

Tara groans,” We aren’t there anymore, Sam. We left Woodsboro. No one is coming after us. So why should I have to live my life in paranoia because you can’t move on?”

“Fine, you know what I'm done. Don't pretend you don't have that feeling like someone is always fucking watching us. Don't pretend like what happened back there doesn’t fucking traumatize you and make it hard to live your day-to-day life. But most of all don’t act like there aren’t psychos out there willing to try to fucking replicate that shit because it happens every fucking time, Tara.”

Sam storms off after that. Tara’s eyes soften for a moment before her mask comes back on. Chad goes to rest his hand on her shoulder, but she shakes him off.

It’s only then that her eyes land on you, “You must feel like it’s your lucky day getting front row tickets to the freak show.”

You shook your head, “It’s none of my business, so I don’t really care.”

Chad senses that there’s more you want to say, “But…”

“But your sister kind of has a point. There’s a lot of sick fucks out there that have a weird obsession over him and over y’all. Entire internet communities are filled with those kinds of people. It’s a little naïve to think that just because you moved away that you’re safe.”

Neither Tara nor Chad like the way the last sentence sounds in your voice. They both eye you suspiciously. That’s when you realize what you said could come off wrong.

You began to sputter and put your hands up in surrender, “I’m just agreeing with Sam.”

Chad wasn’t convinced, but Tara had known you a little better. She knew that your awkward demeanor was tried and true.

“Anything else you want to pile on, Y/n?”

You look between the standing pair,” You left class to fuck your boyfriend?”

That leaves them both blushing rapidly. Tara quickly spews out, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

While Chad opts for, “We did not hook up.”

You laugh at their response. Unfortunately for you, this brought you a step to close to the kids from Woodsboro in the eyes of Ghostface.

The killer had watched the entire interaction from start to finish. From the moment Sam approached you, the killer began analyzing you.

They saw the potential interest you had in Sam and your budding friendship with Tara as enough reason to add you to their list.

Tara and Chad eventually left you alone. Shortly after their departure you decided that it was time for you to leave as well.

It was still daylight when you decided to make your way to your apartment. There was a pit in your stomach as you walked. Though the streets were crowded, it felt like someone was staring at you.

You wanted to dismiss the feeling, but you checked your surroundings first. It was almost as if the crowd had faded away and the sounds of the bustling New York streets came to a halt.

Staring at you from across the street, was Ghostface. In your mind this wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been. You had stopped walking, almost paralyzed in your spot.

The killer sent a wave your way, before dragging their finger across their neck. You shut your eyes as you stood still. You were trying to convince yourself that when you opened them, you’d wake up from a dream.

When you feel a body collide with yours, you shriek and push the person away. Your eyes shoot open instantly.

You don’t know if it’s lucky or unlucky that Samantha Carpenter was on the ground in front of you.

The woman wanted to yell at you, but the look of terror on your face stopped her. It was like you were in a trance, your eyes were glued to a spot across the street. Sam looks in that direction but doesn’t see anything.

She slowly picks herself off of the floor. She’s hesitant to touch you, so instead she just calls your name, “Y/n, what was that about?”

You turn your attention to the woman, but you look physically ill, and she takes note of that.

“I saw- He’s going to kill me. Oh fuck, I’m going to throw up.”

The bile quickly rises up your throat. You rush to the end of the street and hunch over.

Sam is instantly by your side. She holds your hair with one hand and rubs your back with the other. The Carpenter sister couldn’t really make out what you said the first time.

Once you finish vomiting, she wants to question you again, but refrains from doing so. Though it is against her own set of strict rules, you look unwell, and she can’t leave you like this in good conscious.

The apartment is close by, so she helps you stand and guides you to her apartment. You don’t say anything during the walk, you barely have even the cognizance to pick up your feet.

The only image that keeps replaying in your head is the cloaked figure dragging their finger across their throat. It makes you want to puke all over again.

When she enters the apartment it’s a full house. Tara, Chad, Anika, Mindy, Ethan, and Quinn; were all congregated in the living room.

Sam motions the people on the couch to move out of the way. She sits you up straight and everyone is silent.

“Who is that? I thought we strictly had a no one, except Quinn's hook ups and us, in this apartment rules.” Mindy is the first to speak up.

“Why is Y/n here and why does she look like that?” Tara gives her sister a pointed look.

“Don’t look at me I found her on the street like this. She shoved me to the ground and vomited in the street.”

“Poor thing,” Quinn reacts to Sam’s words.

“Did she say anything? Because it looks like she’s a walking zombie,” Ethan adds.

Sam nods, “She did, but I didn’t understand her and seconds later she was puking.”

Anika nudges Tara,” She’s your friend, try to get through to her.”

Tara slowly approaches Y/n. She gets eye level with the girl who seems to be in a catatonic state.

“Y/n, what happened? Talk to me,” Tara’s voice is gentle when she speaks. A side of her that no one in the house is used to seeing emerges.

You begin to tremble, and your eyes suddenly come alive. Your voice is shaky,” He’s going to kill me."

It was a whisper, but Tara heard you perfectly clear. Sam notices her sister’s body tense after the words left your lips.

“Who?”

You begin to shake your head as tears start to stream down your face. Your head buries itself in your hands.

“I saw him, across the street,” your throat burns as you spoke.

Sam hears that part and interjects herself in the conversation,” Who did you see Y/n?”

“Ghostface.”

[bubblergoespop]

My Top Blake Quotes

BLAKEY POOOOO ♡ sassy man

“You’re the brightest spot in my life. You always have been, even when you’re so far away I can barely see the glow.”

“Charming friend you got there. [he’s shaking in his boots]”

“That’s a one-way ticket to ending up in a spiral!”

“Whatever you need of me. I’ll give it, provided you save my love.”

“Questions aren’t really necessary right now, so how about you just sit there and look pretty, hmm?”

“Do you want me to show you exactly what magic can do when it’s not on your side?”

“If that’s what you want, then that’s what I want too. [goofy goofy chuckle]”

“You make me smile, you make me happy. I like being with you. That’s enough.”

“I can’t always keep my head above the water, but being with you is like… having an air tank. I might be below the surface, but I’m still getting oxygen. You’re that oxygen that keeps me going when I’m under."

“I told you, it was nothing... All right, let me clarify, it’s not “nothing”, it’s none of your fucking business.”

“I’m all yours.”

“Your little fuckbuddy-"

“It didn’t feel like a mistake to me. It felt like… someone switching on the lights, and suddenly realizing that I’d been standing in the dark all that time before. It felt like life was suddenly in colour.”

“it felt like I got a taste of everything I’d ever wanted, the most amazing feeling I’d ever experienced and then the next morning, I didn’t just lose the chance at that, I lost my best friend.”

“I’m tired of the dance. I just miss my friend.”

“I can’t be another mistake. Because it’ll break me.”

“You know me, you know how I am.”

“If we’re together, I’ll do everything for you, and I’ll give you everything I can, I’ll give you time and patience, if you need to be with your own thoughts, I’ll give you quiet, but I won’t be able to give you space.”

“The things I think about you, how much I want you… it’s the stuff you’re not supposed to say out loud. The stuff you’re never supposed to admit to feeling.”

“Just sitting at the table one morning, having breakfast when you realized, Oh wait, who's that voice in my head? Must be an ancient, unknowable force in Death. Guess I'll go back to my oatmeal.”

“What are you doing?”

“You would dirty their fucking name by speaking it.”

“if you pick this, it’ll be all of me. All of it. And we both know a lot of that’s not pretty.”

“I’ll get that smile on those pretty lips in the morning, just you wait.”

“I’m not worried you’ll try something. You don’t constitute a meaningful threat in my book. Sorry to bruise your ego.”

“Do I look like I care?”

“I’m not that fucking stupid. [He is]”

“Congratulations, someone please get the gentleman a door prize.”

“You can’t matter.”

“You're going to learn when to shut the fuck up. And spoiler alert, tied up, on the ground, with your powers inhibited? That's one of those times.”

“Wouldn’t that be cute?”

“I sleep easy in the arms of the person I love. Knowing that everything I’ve done, everything I do, I do for them.”

“I never stopped loving you, I’m still back there, I’m still just this scared kid telling you he fucking loves you.”

“Cute. Are you going to keep wasting time with passive aggression or do you actually have something to tell me?”

“I don’t want to die.”

“Yeah, all for you. All of it. [ft D’Deridahn calling him horny in the background]”

[jjsbaby]

i’ve been watching too much greys anatomy so the desire for doctors has gone up.

you were panicking as you guys stepped into the er. your three year old, lexi, had fallen off the playground set at the park and got a cut on her head and you were terrified. this was your second month without her deadbeat father and every second it’s been terrifying. the nurses check you guys in and put you on one of the beds in the corner, half closing the curtains for some privacy. “look mommy!” lexi exclaims, looking at a my little pony sticker she found in my purse. you grab two of her toys out, allowing her to play with them as you wait for the doctor. right as you begin playing with her, the curtains move. “hey there, i heard we took a bit of a fall on the playground?” the doctor says, looking between you and your daughter. lexi nods her head as you speak. “she was trying to show me something she found and leaned a little too far. i tried to catch her but i wasn’t fast enough.” you explain, beating yourself up for not being there.

“well, i’m dr.cameron and im gonna get it all checked out okay?” he asks, beginning to check lexi for any more injuries. i can’t help but notice how blue his eyes are. he jokes around with lexi as he takes her temperature and checks her reflexes. “do you have kids?” you ask, wondering how he knows exactly what to say. you pause for a moment and blink. “i’m so sorry, that was none of my business.” you quickly apologize, waving your hands out in front of you. lexi looks up at you, handing you one of her toys and giggling. “you’re all right, don’t worry about it. i don’t have kids myself but being in pediatrics sorta makes you have to learn how to speak to them.” he flashes you a smile and you can’t help but melt. “your little girl checks out alright, so i’m gonna have an intern stitch her up and you guys should be on your way!” he says as another doctor comes and takes a place next to your daughter.

“i promise he knows what he’s doing, trained him myself.” dr. cameron soothes, winking at you. you nod at him, smiling weakly before taking lexi’s hand. she squeezes it as she gets stitched up, tearing up for the first two. “you’re doing so good angel.” you comfort her, kissing the top of her head when they finish. you put all your belongings back into your purse while they instruct you on when to come back to have the stitches taken out and how to take care of them. they give lexi a couple of cartoon bandaids, and it makes her day. you whisper a thank you to them as you take her hand and begin walking towards the exit. “wait wait wait!” you hear behind you and see dr.cameron coming towards you. he takes you to the side so you aren’t in anyone’s way and smiles at you. “i wanted to give you this.” he hands you a piece of paper with his number written on it. “if you ever need anything, call me. and when she comes back to get her stitches removed, have them page me. i’ll make sure she’s taken care of. now both of you, go be safe.” he grins before turning back and walking away. you feel warm as you walk out the door. as soon as you get in the car, you text him. “thanks for everything. hopefully next time i’ll need help isn’t an emergency, that way i can just stare at you shamelessly.” you breathe for a second, surprised at your own actions. you turn and make sure lexi is okay before you drive home. as soon as you park, your phone buzzes. “you were doing that anyways. next time it’s my turn.”

[raspberrysmoon]

ok so. background so you Get It a little bit. eddie and sheila are dead. theyre ghosts. charles and linda are ghost hunters trying to uncover what happened to the town eddie and sheila lived in. charles and linda cant see eddie and sheila, and their voices are muffled. golden treasure + sheilinda with a lavender marriage between eddie and sheila. ok onto the fic :3 i cried editting it

(should also mention this is an au i made with my friends cherrie and moth :])

“eds, do you think we’re ever going to have the ones we want?”

“don’t be ridiculous, sheila. we ain’t in the right town for that.”

“..do you remember that conversation, eddie? the one right after this song?” both linda and charles perk up, not quite looking, but certainly listening.

“of course i do. i’m still right, aren’t i?”

sheilas brow creases. “don’t say that. we’re getting there, aren’t we? this-” she gestures wildly to their partners, now watching the shadow-casted wall intently, “is already okay in the outside world. whos to say we won’t have this someday?”

charles and linda are promptly forgotten about. “sheila, look at us. we’re ghosts. they aren’t. are we going to wait another 50 years for them to die so we can have something not meant for us?” he barely feels bad about her flinch. “we’re not meant to have this. they’re going to get sick of the hunt, and they’ll find living, breathing people who didn’t burn to death almost a hundred fuckin’ years ago.”

it’s angrier than he’d realized he felt. sheila stares at him silently for a moment, then, “eddie, you’re allowed to want this. you know that, right? we aren’t trapped in your fathers home anymore.”

“yeah, because he’s dead, sheila,-”

“no.” her voice is firm. “no, thats not what i mean, eddie. you’re– god, whats the word?” she falls silent for a moment, “oh well. you’re a nance, eddie. you can admit that now. it’s okay.”

“..this feels wrong from your mouth, sheila.”

she scoffs, running a hand down his arm, “i’m not even your wife, now. how’s it wrong?”

eddie falls silent, glancing at his own shadow. he can see the outline of sheilas curls on the cream colored wall.

..ah. charles and linda heard that, didn’t they?

“we’ll get this, someday,” sheila whispers. “i’m sure of it. when was the last time a man looked at you like charles does? or a woman, as linda does to me? they’ve never even truly seen us.”

“sure they haven’t, love, but the thrill of the chase is a powerful feeling.”

“would the thrill end in tears? would a man breakdown over the sight of you in a dream, only to be unable to sleep the next night to talk to you? was henry like that, to you? or james?”

“they don’t count. did betty ever tell you you were pretty?”

sheila rolls her eyes. “we don’t have time to speak of betty. we do, however, have time to get you out of your little blues puddle.” eddies shadow disappears from the wall. “eddie, come on. don’t be like this.”

“i can’t let him hear me say this, sheils. please.”

she looks at him, and says nothing. “i don’t think we should want this.”

sheila jumps back like he’d hit her. “what? eddie, the whole reason we lived so hard was to have this. you’re going to toss it, just because you’re.. scared?”

eddie rolls his eyes, adjusting his hat. “i’m not scared. but we weren’t allowed this for a reason. what–” he’s cut off by a hand meeting his cheek. sheila, slapping him.

“don’t fucking say that. good night, edward.”

she hadn’t called him that in.. well, decades, now, but in life.. years. years.

he can’t shake the feeling that he’s right.

charles and linda focus their gazes back onto the music in front of them, and begin the song again.

a song, about a woman long dead, played to be sang to him.

by a woman. by his wife.

charles sniffles.

maybe he doesn’t deserve this, either. maybe none of them do.

..maybe that doesn’t matter.

[qtkat]

being childhood friends with the main four would include..

gender: female (she/her)

warnings: none, other than it’s south park

request: no lol

a/n: this is my first time posting my fanfiction, so please be kind with any criticism! x <3

- being one of the only people eric can genuinely get along with

- because let’s be real, if he were to let a girl in his main friend group he’d definitely have to actually like you

- and if even eric likes you, the others definitely love you

- you’re really close with all of them, picking up kenny and karen with your shitty car every morning, slacking off and talking about whatever with stan in first period, rating the day’s school lunch with eric (you both take this very seriously), and letting kyle coach you through your biology homework after school

- you’re really the glue to their broship, because without you there kyle would’ve definitely dropped eric at some point and they would’ve split up the whole group

- but don’t worry, they don’t argue as much as they used to in elementary and middle school

- ironically you all have one period together, ap history with mr. garrison

- it’s definitely your favorite time of the day because you get to see all your favorite people at once

- it’s also definitely not mr. garrison’s favorite time of day, he’s hated you little gremlins since fourth grade (and you can’t really blame him)

- outside of school you try to see them as much as possible

- you definitely see kenny the most, he loves just hanging out at your house so he doesn’t have to be at his own

- he even takes karen with him sometimes, and you love babysitting her together and going out to hang around south park

- if you smoke you guys get blazed together all the time (it’s tegridy weed he steals from stan’s house when he’s there)

- whenever you’re just chilling with your other friends (like bebe or wendy) he comes up to you throughout the day to ask if you want to have a smoke break with him

- if you don’t smoke he definitely tries to blow the smoke away from your face as much as he can

- you’re his trip sitter

- he’s also visited you as mysterion, kind of like how they do in miraculous (if you catch my drift)

- you’ve definitely bragged about being friends with mysterion before, much to eric’s dismay

- speaking of eric’s dismay, he’s the most jealous friend you’ll ever have

- “who took that picture of you” “why aren’t you free this weekend?” “why won’t you go to casa bonita with me” “why do you hang out with that loser anyways” ALL. DAY. LONG.

- he loves hanging out with you alone the most so no one steals your attention away from him

- he likes people knowing you guys are friends since he thinks you’re cool (and honestly he just wants people to think he’s cool too, he cares)

- you don’t call him fatass and he really appreciates it, he doesn’t say it though

- you need to pick up a lot of the love you get from eric like context clues since he doesn’t ever really say it out loud

- also liane LOVES YOU

- she sees you as a good influence on her son

- she’s also the type to try and get you to eat over every time you come over (which i also see sheila doing)

- speaking of sheila she’d definitely invite you to celebrate hanukkah with the broflovskis, it became a yearly thing

- kyle and you are study buddies since he doesn’t want you to fail and stay a class behind

- he gets angry when he gets sad, and you can deal with that really well, you calm him down really easily

- you guys have deep conversations whenever you’re alone together

- you hang together on the roof of your house and watch the sunset while talking about the meaning of life or some shit LMAO

- if you also have textured hair you guys would have joint wash days and it’s so cute

- and 80% of the time you’re with kyle stan is there too

- not that you mind

- if you play and instrument you have definitely written music together with stan

- and even if you don’t you love hearing him play, you’re his number one fan

- jam sessions in his barn >>>

- i feel like i’m one of the only people who isn’t a football stan truther, like he’s literally a little nerd who plays guitar

- he plays warhammer with you if you’re into board games, and you guys get really into it together

- that first period chat i mentioned earlier? yeah definitely filled with your character lore and shit

- stan loves hanging out at your house to get away from his dad, honestly yours and eric’s houses are just the general hang out spots for the gang

- whenever you guys hang out with the five of you it’s mostly video games and chilling with food

- subsections of the group are definitely you/stan/kyle and you/kenny/eric (even though eric doesn’t like sharing you he gets really bad FOMO anytime he’s not there)

- whenever you hang with kenny and eric it’s filled with immature jokes, and probably weed too

- idk i just see kenny getting high 24/7 and i feel like eric would try smoking at least once

- kyle and stan won’t try weed, since stan hates it and kyle promised not to try weed to stan when randy bought tegridy farms

- and because butters is basically a bonus member of the group you’d definitely also be friends with him

- you, kenny and butters make the best trio ever, you guys have so much fun

- butters deserves someone sweet in his life and you two are definitely that to him

- whenever he’s working you and kenny just hang around the whole day in a booth, sometimes kyle comes over too to help you study a bit

- willy chilly’s is a hang out spot too, it seems so nice in the summer

- in conclusion you and the boys have a great friendship, and you have ever since you were young! it’s so cute honestly

[cherryobx]

hiiii here to help you procrastinate! I suck at requests but I’m gonna make one and you can just see if you want to use it or not :)) so since I can’t personally hug you since your 24 hours away by car and I don’t have a drivers licence I want something cozy 👉👈 I’ve recently been obsessed with someone and for the first time I followed a twitch live stream because of him and it was so comforting to just listen to him play a game that I could fall asleep. so maybe something like gamer bf/gf and a sleepy reader OR a bookish reader, they’re gaming and the other reading or something. I want the coziness. but I have no clue if this is information that you can do something with so do whatever you want :)) and if you want to use it you can choose the character ☺️

Company || J.M.

Summary: JJ, your gamer bf, comes over and you spend a cozy evening together, sort of.

Word count: 0.7k

Warnings: no knowledge of gaming whatsoever, other than that none

A/N: thank you babe for this request!!!!!! and thank you for supporting my procrastination haha, hope you enjoy whatever this is (don't judge i haven't written anything in soooo long)

JJ kept all of his gaming equipment at your place. He was scared of what his father might do if he ever got his hands on it in a fit of drunken rage. It was very expensive, he saved up for more than a year to afford all of it. You made space in your bedroom for another table so he could have his gaming station and his own little corner to game in. 

You loved when he was over at your place to play his video games you knew pretty much nothing about. It was a way for you to spend time together. Not in the sense that you were conversing or doing some activity together but just being in the same room with each other, enjoying each other’s company. It was so mundane but so sweet.

He had his headset on but only one of his ears was covered. When you asked about it one time he said he wanted to make sure he could still hear you if you needed anything. But in reality he also enjoyed the little sounds you made over at the other side of the room, whether it was blowing on your steaming tea, turning the pages of your book or the little laughs you let out when a character said something funny in your current read.

One evening he came over to game with his friends. He could tell you were tired just by the way you dragged your feet behind you and how you kept yawning every two seconds. You had a really long day behind you and all you wanted to do was curl up into a little ball under the warm covers in your bed and fall asleep.

He followed you into your bedroom and watched you flop face first onto the bed.

“Are you okay?” He took a seat next to you and placed his hand on your back, rubbing it in a relaxing motion making your eyelids fall closed.

“Yeah, just tired,” you mumbled into the duvet.

“I don’t have to play right now, I can just tell them I can’t tonight. I’ll cuddle with you instead.”

But you insisted. “No. Go game with your friends. I’ll be out like a light in two seconds. Don’t even worry about me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Just come to bed when you’re done.”

“Of course.” He smiled and gave you a small kiss on your temple. 

He helped you crawl under the covers and tucked you in, making your heart swell. He gave you another kiss but this time on the lips. “I love you,” he whispered against your lips before he stood up and sat down in his gaming chair behind the desk you had gotten him.

He turned everything on and logged into whatever game he was supposed to be playing with his friends that night.

His voice was quiet when speaking to his friends, he didn’t want to disturb you more than he already has. He kind of felt guilty about his situation although you had reassured him many times that you aren’t bothered by his stuff in your room. You actually liked that a piece of him was always in your personal space.

“Sorry, my girl’s sleeping,” he whispered into the microphone. It tugged the corners of your mouth upwards in your sleepy haze.

You didn’t really focus on his hushed conversations but the low tone of his voice was so calming and relaxing, it lulled you to sleep in no time.

When JJ finally finished up with his friends, he took the headphones off, placed them on the monitor and quietly made his way to your bed. Lifting the covers gently, he climbed underneath them and joined you in the warmth of your bed. 

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against him, stirring you from your sleep.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“‘S okay,” you slurred, already falling back asleep. JJ nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent and feeling the sleep take him over as well.

[receival]

baldur’s gate 3 starters.

the following is a collection of sentence starters from larian’s baldur’s gate 3. part 2.

look at me - i’m not a monster.

stay back. i don’t want to hurt you, but i will.

no. you’re not one of them at all.

i was ready to run you through. my mistake, friend.

that’s far enough. what’s your business down here?

you revealed our location? that tongue gets any looser, (name), and i’ll cut it out.

reckon i might miss this place.

this place is more dangerous than i thought.

well, don’t you cut a fine figure.

sometimes i’m jealous of that girl. ugh - to feel so invincible again.

in your expert opinion, what’s the best way to kill a devil?

i’m certain there are answers out there. we’ll find them together.

there’s no story. none that you’re entitled to hear, anyway.

you can tolerate a great deal of suffering, so long as it has meaning.

until then, all i can do is endure.

please try to understand that it’s not something i can just talk about freely.

perhaps there’s potential in you.

honestly, your faith is your own concern. i won’t judge, one way or the other.

i think i did well by joining you.

you already know my biggest secrets. what more can you ask?

that wall’s an illusion! hiding what, i wonder …

sun, moon, and stars will still be there, waiting for us.

this place is pretty spectacular, isn’t it?

no book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice.

a perfect ring of mushrooms … nature, or magic?

hmm. i thought that might’ve done something.

another illusion. is anything real down here?

i’m more concerned with this ‘twit’ who set a spectator on you.

a rival - a mere footnote to my legend. you should be more concerned with who i am.

the fools must have turned back. or, better yet, died in the search.

i need no more rivals. try to take this as a compliment, yes?

this presence … this magic is not divine, but fey.

little? i am a god! and i’m gonna rip you - tear you - wear you for a hat -

don’t do anything hasty, now.

i’ll just kill you and claim it for myself.

i’m the lord of murder - i’ll show you why.

if you’re expecting me to drop to my knees before you, forget it.

a wizard’s tower is his sanctum, a private place for research and respite. but as this wizard’s not home … i say we take a peek.

a strange place for a button. especially one that doesn’t work.

what good would it do for me to be troubled? we can’t save them all.

you’ll have to speak slowly. i find it quite difficult to concentrate with my condition gnawing at my insides like a teething displacer kitten.

the whole village is falling to pieces …

hey, maybe we can scare up a few dusty bottles of wine somewhere.

i like your way of thinking. split any takings we find?

what creatures live in water this dark?

i’m a rabid dirty dog. and i bite.

i could’ve killed you before you even noticed me, but i didn’t. stand down.

i can be discreet. no need for bloodshed.

share? you really are in the wrong place.

a bleeding heart, are you? reckon i’ll just roast and eat it.

what in the hells did you do to that corpse?

you do plenty for me, more than you realize. but this cannot be remedied.

are you alright? is there anything i can do to help you?

enough. bickering won’t save your friend.

run away, then.

(name) - i was so worried! did they hurt you?

who cares? we’re together now, thank gods!

i’m grateful, don’t mistake me, but … why help us?

freeze it, cock-stench. we aren’t done just yet.

pay up, and you get to skink away. resist, and i gut you.

drop it. i don’t owe you anything.

your incompetence has been my ruin.

stop! no more innocents will die today, (name).

you care for the weak. most curious.

you so much as touch me, and i’ll tear you from limb to limb.

ah - another treacherous soul walks among us.

i ain’t going down easy.

you been a shit since i laid eyes on you, (name).

strike him down. prove your faith.

your silence speaks to your heresy.

look, you have no idea what you’re dealing with …

it’s the whole damn reason we’re here, and i’m not leaving without it.

the mission comes first.

and i thought i’d heard it all. that’s some cambion-level deception.

i go where there’s shit to stir. and there’s no shortage of options.

i can’t remember much, truth be told.

centuries of torment will do that to you.

you’ve been naughty. and you know what happens when you’re naughty.

just who in the nine hells are you?

well, well. aren’t you a luscious thing?

been a long time since someone stuck their neck out for me like that.

you have a manner of irresistible desperation about you. i like it.

you know, i’ve been thinking. and i think there’s something i should tell you. nothing big or terrible, just … a small little detail about me that hasn’t come up naturally.

i want to join you - to fight by your side.

i’m sorry for barging in like this, but i had to come find you.

i won’t let you down. i promise.

we all have our burdens, one way or the other.

i’m trying to say that you’ve earned my trust in a way very few ever have … i want that to mean something.

freedom - i’d forgotten how it felt. thank you.

if you have a moment, i’d like your opinion on something.

the problem is this: a preponderance of evidence that i am a terrible adventurer.

i can’t risk re-capture. i barely escaped last time.

it was a mistake. and not one we’ll repeat.

i don’t know. he was kind of fun.

we can’t just invite danger in to our hearth like that. we must be more careful.

most monsters will think twice before making a meal of me.

an old hunter’s trick - if you can’t mask your scent, spoil it.

i prefer a weapon to stench, thanks.

you’re a monster hunter? not what i imagined.

whatever you’re hunting, your stench alone will kill it.

a quick wit is rare indeed.

know how to ask, and they’ll share that knowledge. if you’re fool enough to pay their price.

speak plainly. what is she?

i think you’re mistaken - this place looks innocent enough.

truth is like a blade, my friend. we can arm ourselves with it - or just as easily find it pressed against our throat.

i would not put you in danger.

your coyness is getting boring. tell me.

you take insult where none is intended, my friend.

how thoroughly invigorating it is to stand by one’s friend in the face of danger.

you best have one hells of an apology for me.

you must have mistaken me for someone else.

that wriggler swimming in your brain juice is a bit of an inconvenience, isn’t it?

that’s none of your concern.

don’t change the subject.

keep that hole under your nose shut.

let’s not involve ourselves in this place any longer than is necessary.

you want to play the hero so badly? fine. let’s make this interesting.

gods, it’s hot in here.

i’ve had better days. and worse ones.

i am, after all, the villain of the tale.

you truly are a soul that steels my own.

you are as thick as they come.

even i am tired of the sound of my own voice.

i stand at a precipice, but if you do not give up hope, neither shall i.

all of this … it must feel like a betrayal.

you bastard! you ruined it, you ruined everything!

slow down - what did i do?

this is an interesting way of thanking me.

i don’t need this. good luck getting out of here on your own.

i know i should head home, but … i can’t bring myself to leave.

(are you alright?) / not even a little bit. but i will be.

she favored me like a child favors a captive pet.

i promise i will not betray your trust.

i cannot thank you enough.

you will face (name)’s judgement.

i wish you could have visited at a better time.

you had no right to intervene.

you’re not one of us.

copper for your thoughts?

always a delight to speak to you.

did i play games like this in my youth? was i sweet once?

what are you doing? i’m busy here!

nothing beats the taste of stolen beer.

come on, now. they’re just having a bit of fun.

let’s do what we have to do, then get out of here.

smell’s like burnt flesh.

hold out your arm so i can mark your flesh.

i’m here to spill your guts across the floor.

pain without purpose is a terrible thing, wouldn’t you agree?

i often feel i like raw pain too much. it scares me.

as long as the story ends in death, it’s all the same to me.

forgive me, but - that look in your eyes. something terrible has happened to you.

what i see in your eyes, in your soul, is only natural.

we’ve all suffered in these dark times. it is little wonder you hear scars of pain and anguish.

touch me and you’ll lose your hand.

the pain you suffer will cleanse you - do not fight it.

you look tired. should i take over?

welcome the pain. let it become part of you.

that looks like it’s going to bruise.

not that i’m suggesting we stop for a drink, of course.

i wouldn’t want to place all my faith in blind luck.

sympathies won’t help me to survive.

your life, much like your words, is meaningless. end the latter to save the former.

looks like the booze got the better of them. they’re practically unconscious.

they’re dying for me. all of them.

why don’t you take a closer look? i’ll observe from back here.

please don’t open the creepy book!

toddlers are easier to please than you lot.

you know, i never pictured myself as a hero.

all i want is a little fun. is that so much to ask?

having performance issues, (name)?

never have i met such troglodytes.

i was hoping you wouldn’t notice i was gone.

i suggest we admire it from afar.

it would be too much to hope that’s nothing to do with us, wouldn’t it?

i go my own way - alone.

i’ll feed your innards to the ants before i do that.