#because i remember having to wait on the third book to come out before i could read it

[crazy-fangirl2524]

I cant wait to reread tsc already (it came out less than 24 hours ago)

[aparticularbandit]

and like. i have a bit of concern with the flavor text because it's not always consistent.

but i think in the context of the memory sequences they make sense.

what the world refers to as the tragedy is not what ryoko/junko refers to as the tragedy, but by the time she gets to making flavor text around that, she's made it very explicit what she means by the tragedy.

but earlier in the text, she refers to that same period of time by something else entirely.

because ryoko hasn't remembered the period she would call the tragedy yet. so the labels are different.

and like. i worry about that a little bit, but i also think this is one of the things that is very clear in context.

[suguae]

Haunted

part one

I tried my best to tag as many people!

The long awaited part two! I'm so sorry if this doesn't live up to your guys expectations! I really felt like so much people were waiting for a part two and I've been so busy, but hopefully you all enjoy!

You were like a shot of espresso, a ray of sunlight and one would be so lucky just to even be in your presence.

That's how he saw it at least. The gummy smile that was glued on your face as you listened to Megumi's silly stories he'd make up just to entertain you.

Wherever you stepped foot, the mood would lighten drastically.

He knew that because if you were here with him right now, Megumi wouldn't be crying his heart out begging his dad to call you. Toji wouldn't be struggling to fall asleep as he looked at your side of the bed imagining you there. He wouldn't be crossing his fingers hoping that every notification on his phone would be you.

"The princess and prince got married and lived happily ever after." You smiled as Megumi watched you close the book in awe. His cheeks were painted with a light pink, "You and Daddy?" You couldn't help but giggle at cute sleepy Megumi.

"No..." You whispered, noticing his eyes getting heavy.

Toji's eyes shifted towards you and his baby boy on the shared bed, Megumi of course having one of his fits and you never being able to say no to him. His heart felt heavy, hearing the cold truth slip from your mouth.

"You've been out of it Fushiguro..."

There he was back to reality in his cold—big office. Standing in front of him was Shiu, his best and his closest employee. "Zenin." Toji corrected which caught Shiu by surprise. Toji was proud to have his wife's last name, yet here he is using his last name.

No wedding ring? Shiu thought to himself, looking at Toji’s empty fingers. But in fact his fingers were not empty, because there sat the dark purple promise ring you had gotten him for your third year anniversary. Shiu smiled to himself, he was moving on—for the better. 

“You and Y/n are doing better, I guess?” He sighs, taking a couple steps towards his boss’s desk and plopping himself on the chair in front of him. His smile fading hearing the vague no, coming from his boss. 

“She left actually, but it’s better this way.” 

“Is it?” 

“No, it’s not.” You smiled as the soft yellow light from the candle illuminated onto your face. How Toji’s heart melted when he saw that little sparkle in your eyes. “I actually love kids.” Your eyes shifted to the little stroller after Toji mentioned how stupid it was to try to go on dates as he had a whole baby. 

“It’s been rough ever since my wife passed.” 

He remembers that look on your face when he told you how recently his wife had passed. It was the first date, he brought his son and mentioned his dead wife. There was no way he would ever see you again after that. But he was wrong because you always found your way back.

“Daddy—gumi hungry!” The little boy pouted as Toji noticed the burning smell of the food. It had been way too much now, spacing out every chance he had just to think about you.

Where are you?

Are you okay?

He wonders if you’re doing better now that you left him.

Probably, right?

Wrong.

“You need to clean this place up, it’s a mess y/n.” Your mom says entering your small apartment. The tiny cans of energy drinks scattered around the place, tissues and a pile of blankets on the couch.

She sighed watching your frail body sit up from the couch, her arm wrapped around your body and she placed small kisses on your forehead.

“It’s gonna take a while to get back on his feet. When your father passed away, it took years for me to officially realize that he was gone y/n.”

That’s what hurt the most, how long was Toji willing to take to realize? What if he forgets about you?

“Go back to your daily life, my baby he will call you when he’s ready. I see the love in his eyes.” She smiled once more before bringing you closer in her embrace.

This is what you needed.

The embrace of someone else’s while your life was slowly changing.

His thumb hovered over your contact. His hands shaking as the tears swell in his eyes. It’s been well over six months since the break up.

Toji was more than ready.

He was just afraid now, afraid of the fact that the women he had a past with moved on and would reject his return.

His thumb firmly pressing the dial button as he brings his phone up towards his ear. He could feel his throat closing and his stomach churning.

“Hello?”

<- previous next part ->

taglist: @ssc7514@utarts@my1guilty1pleasures@bangchansthings@nxxun-blog@sidelnes@khaleesihavilliard@wr4inn@r0ckst4rjk@iwishigotswallowed@ryumurin@traacy-lin@aikori6@slowlyswimmingmoon@mikyapixie@dreamlessnight@maliakealoha

[wonryllis]

ʬʬ. ! POKER FACE ﹙ SHE'S GOT ME LIKE NOBODY ﹚

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. park sunghoon with fem!reader 𖥔 ݁ enemies but secretly in love and oblivious, fluff. LIB? word count `2375

prompt. wiping a bit of frosting (or smth else) off of their cheek while eating and taking it for themself from list 02. part of this event by @okwonyo

JAY VER. JAKE VER. SUNGHOON VER: one-sided

"you look like a chipmunk," and i wanna kiss you so bad right now. sunghoon really wishes he could do that, grab your jaw, fingers digging into your soft puffed cheeks, and pull you against him as he smashes his lips into yours.

he's been dreaming of it for as long as he can remember. for as long as he knew he shouldn't be dreaming of that. for as long as he knew you have hated him and for as long as he has been supposed to be hating you too.

look sunghoon doesn't really have a solid reason to hate you besides the fact that you crush on his best friend (especially when he's been here all along?) but if getting to talk to you and sticking close by comes at the cost of pretending to do, then he doesn't really mind it. though it doesn't do much because everyone, from friends to professors, everyone can see how he's been waiting on the opportunity to jump you.

and you? you are the most oblivious thing there can ever be. sunghoon could be right up in your face, whispering sweet nothings and everything in between and you'd refuse to believe he feels anything but hatred for you. if not that then annoyance? because you for sure are always annoyed at him and his flirty antics.

"shut-" he's suddenly reaching forward and across the table, hands cupping your cheek, oh god he's melting you're so soft, thumb swiping against your skin to wipe off the salad dressing. he puts it into his mouth next, sucking off the sweet sauce with an irritating smirk on his face,"so cute," a look of lure in his hooded eyes staring at you,"eat slowly baby no one's gonna take your foo-,"

"m nat yiur baby!" you interrupt immediately, speaking through the stuffed salad in your cheeks, eyes shifting back and forth to heeseung sitting beside him. praying he wouldn't misunderstand even though your insanely fast beating heart clearly knows who it's beating for.

"come on babies don't speak with full mouth, no matter how cute you look," i'm gonna die if you don't stop right now sunghoon feels like he'll combust any moment, blow his cover and mess everything up. he doesn't give a shit that your crush aka his friend, is sitting right next to him, if anything he's doing it in front of him on purpose even though he knows the boy has got no feelings for you. he has just got something for the way your face scrunches adorably when you get annoyed, and how your oh so kissable lips turn into an angry pout that does nothing to show your anger but tempt him even more.

"ou knww wat m levnig," grabbing your plate with you, you give heeseung a tight lipped cheery little smile and two short kicks under the table to sunghoon before leaving the area.

fuck park sunghoon and fuck his hotness and fuck how he gets to you every single time. your heartbeat keeps on getting higher and skipping beats with each step you take, repeatedly hearing his words in your head again and again. even more so when you hear the sound of his footsteps behind you, those very familiar clicking of his chelsea dress shoes that suit him devilishly well.

"enjoy," sunghoon leaves the table after you, patting his friend's back in a quick apology and rushing away.

"yo chipmunk cheeks! wait up for me!"

"get away!"

just fucking kiss already. lee heeseung has had it enough already. he can't stand third wheeling anymore, it's making him sick. he needs to get you two into seven minutes in heaven or something. just anything to end whatever this is you have going on with him stuck in between.

"whatcha doin baby chicks?" sunghoon's annoying ass voice has you looking up from your book, eyes following him as he drags out the chair beside yours and plops himself down smugly. he's alone. he's alone alone.

"where's heeseung?" you ask, remembering how he promised he'd bring along the boy for a study date. the sole reason you agreed to meet him in the library.

"somewhere between those shelves," sunghoon fingers point towards the rows behind your table,"probably getting you know what," he suggests, resting his head on his hands, staring at you trying to find your guy. "liar, he's not like you," you retort and it has sunghoon grinning from ear to ear,"hm, what do you think i am like?" there's a hint of amusement and a tone of teasing in his voice, it makes it hard for you to conceal your nervousness. so many times of it happening yet you still can't control the fluttering butterflies and sparks in your stomach. are you sure you're crushing on the right person? well heeseung is nice he helps you with notes from missed classes and most importantly doesn't taunt you for being second.

"a predator," nevertheless trying to outwardly stand your ground is something you have learned to do when it comes to him. do not show how weak he gets you. do not let him have the upper hand. that's been your motto since day one.

you almost feel your heart jumping out of your chest when he bends to grab the seat of your chair and pulls you closer, leaning so close to your face, you feel his breath hit your lips with every exhale,"so you must be my pretty little prey?" if you move just an inch forward you'd end up smearing your cherry gloss on his chapped lips, feeling hyper aware of every little movement from the touch of his fingers near the hem of your skirt to the little shifting you do in your seat. fidgeting and constant staring at each other's lips. the faint hovering of his palm on your thighs, the other lingering over hand resting on the table, like a cage in between,"you're gettin-"

"guys i finally found it!" you're snapped out of it when heeseung slams a pile of books on the table, hands flapping up to slap against sunghoon's chest and push him away with all the might you got.

it takes you a few minutes to settle yourself down into calm, ignoring the way sunghoon complains about being harshly shoved for apparently no reason. and smiling at heeseung as he explains how he'd been trying to look for some books on zoology which somehow happened to always be borrowed out, that is until today. you take a second look at the books he shows, hitting an embarassing realization, eyes switching between the two guys.

"wait- you were looking for these books over there?" pointing to the same rows sunghoon did initially.

"what else were you thinking in that tiny head of yours, chipmunk?" sunghoon wiggles his brows suggestively knowing exactly what you were thinking of, enjoying the way you come to the horrific realization of how you both were just flirting, more specifically of what you implied and what you didn't deny.

"nothing, shut up and do your own work!" a poor attempt at brushing it off but he'll let it go since you aren't really alone right now. a lovesick grin, eyes trained on you the entire time. only heeseung notices and once again wonders of when you'll knock it off.

"miss second place at a frat party? that's new," if there's hell, yours is definitely tied to sunghoon, your personal lucifer on guard. amidst a roaring crowd of people he still manages to find you and get on your nervous in a matter of seconds. time and again he's proven to be the bane of your existence.

"shouldn't that go for you, mr first place? don't you want to keep it?" against the counter on the far end of the kitchen, he has you trapped.

"keeping you? i think i already have it," his lips grazing over your ear as he whispers in a low voice, pulling away immediately to leave you wanting for more. "no i-" you shutter for the first time in front of him, shit.

"i meant the last assignment, i scored more than you," you sound much softer and tinier than you would have ever liked to, but your brain's in such a mess you can't think straight.

"you're so studious it's cute but chipmunk i couldn't give a shit about being second place to you, you can take my place any time you like," he gets so much closer again you start panicking, if you don't get out of here right now, losing all your pride and prudence to him wouldn't be impossible anymore.

pushing him away slightly you hope he'd give way to you,"i'm gonna go find heeseung," adding all the more reason to it. "let me help you with that," but he's adamant on not leaving you alone today. six months of watching you have a crush on his best friend and he's had enough.

dragging you out to the living room, he brings you to the couch on the other end of where heeseung stands surrounded by his group of friends. and sitting down on it, is immediately pulling you onto his lap, hands going around the waist to hold you close,"let's make him jealous," his lips brush against yours, getting a sweet taste of your lipgloss. just like how he's always imagined.

"kiss me,"

and heeseung sighs from across the room. fucking finally.

taglist. ( open ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @nanabbg @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Established Steddie, they have been living together for over a decade, did their best to heal their wounds from the Upside Down and learn to enjoy life again. It's not easy but they do it.

When the Lord of the Rings movies come out, it's actually Steve who suggests watching them to Eddie. He really tries engaging with Eddie's passions, but his focus is not the greatest when it comes to books. That doesn't mean he doesn't listen to Eddie ramble about them though - he knows all about hobbits, second breakfasts, the culture of smoking in the Shire...Eddie admires a lot of characters from the books, but ever since experiencing the Upside Down fuckery, he actually admits that the hobbits had a point. Good food, even better company and good tobacco? What else does one need? It also inspires Steve a few years later to prepare a full day of hobbit-inspired meals for their trilogy marathon when the extended editions come out. But this is about their first time watching the movies.

They both go to the movie theater excited. Steve is familiar with most of the characters, including Eddie's self-admitted crush on Aragorn. And Steve can see why, he can see so much good in all the members of the fellowship. After the first movie, he's wiping his eyes because Boromir deserved better. Eddie has a lot to say about what was lost in adaptation, but Steve knows Eddie loves those movies and would cut off his only remaining nipple before missing the next ones.

The Two Towers have Steve rooting for the ents and he feels strangely touched about how everyone underestimates Pippin, yet it's him who gets the ents to march. He really can't pick a favorite character. He can't wait for the third movie.

They go to the premiere of the Return of the King with Eddie. They secretly hold hands in the last row, and Steve watches the ride of the Rohirrim with bated breath. He clenches his hand in Eddie's when Theoden gets gravely injured, but then Éowyn is there and...oh.

He is staring slack-jawed at the scene. Éowyn's large, terrified eyes, the towering frame of the Witch King. Her posture was fearful, crouched, but still she faced him. And something surfaces in his head, something he's long forgotten.

He's unusually queit when they come back home, he still loves the rest of the movie, almost cries at "my friends, you bow to no one,", then definitely cries at Frodo leaving the Middle Earth. But there is still that something and Eddie can sense it. When they're falling asleep together, Eddie finally asks him. And Steve's had enough time to process what he felt.

"When Éowyn faced the Witch King...it reminded me of what it felt like. I mean, for the first time. I know it's stupid because saw so much unnatural shit, but...it's the first time that I have hard time forgetting," he admits quietly. "She reminded me of me in 1983 so much. I had no clue what I was getting myself into. I thought I'd do the right thing, but then I had a gun pointed at me, they both had blood on their hands...and then it appeared."

Eddie doesn't speak, he only holds Steve closer.

"It was so tall. I remember that petal-like mouth, those teeth, but mostly...I remember the crippling fear. I felt absolutely terrified. I couldn't move. There was even a moment when I thought of running away, but...I couldn't leave them there. Seeing someone go through something similar and being praised for being a hero...it makes me think. I used to be so ashamed for freezing in that moment. For even considering running away. But Éowyn...she was like me." There's awe in his voice and warmth, relief. "She had no idea what she was getting into. She froze. She didn't do everything perfectly and gracefully like Legolas or something, but when it mattered...she did what she had to."

He holds Eddie tighter and asks, almost shyly: "Will it offend you that I think she's my favorite character? Not Aragorn or Sam?"

Eddie just shakes his head and drops a kiss to Steve's hair. "Nah. She suits you well. And you're both amazing."

And if it becomes a silly endearment in their household, that Steve is sometimes called the Shieldmaiden of Hawkins? ("I'm not a maiden, Eddie!" "I'm not calling you a shieldboy or shieldbachelor, Steve!") Then Steve feels a hint of something that he thought he'd renounced, but now, for the first time he feels it's deserved - pride.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Felix Catton x reader where he invites reader to Saltburn and he confesses his love to her. Super fluffy 🫶🏻😩

This was long as shit! But I hope you like it! 🦦

You honestly thought Felix was taking the piss upon extending you an invitation to spend the summer at Saltburn. You even waited for Farleigh to come out of nowhere to make his usual passive aggressive commentary in regard to your seemingly gullible nature, but nothing.

No Farleigh.

None of Felix’s little posse of posh cunts were nearby to poorly conceal their laugher behind their hands.

It was just you and Felix sat upon a stone bench somewhere, to which you must’ve looking like an right idiot, with your mouth opening and closing like an goldfish in disbelief at what you were hearing. ‘So what do you say?’ Felix asked after a prolonged period of awkward silence, looking as though a little on the verge of imploding at any given moment.

You blinked once, twice, then a third time for good measure before clearing your throat. ‘Yeah, sure…I’d love to but why me-‘ your sentence was cut off when Felix let out a relieved sigh as his mouth stretched into a smile, revealing his pearly whites, also as though he was…happy that you had accepted his invite; A reaction that naturally caused you to become curious as to figure out the reason why.

‘Oh thank fuck, you almost had me second guessing that you weren’t going to come.’ He said, looking at you with eyes that seemed to be reading your entire being, reading your each and every breath with such attention; so much that you swore it was as akin to that of a creator admiring his first creation. You -much like everyone else at Oxford- were very familiar with the stories that came with the supposed friends Felix had taken to Saltburn; they go to Saltburn, things seemingly get weird and the friendship is tarnished, then by summer’s end Felix next speaks with them again.

Used and discarded within the same breath.

You soon came to the conclusion that you didn’t want to be the next discarded toy on Felix’s long list of broken things. It would’ve been better had Felix kept his distance and stayed with his little posse, but he didn’t and now you were riddled with the endless possibilities that laid ahead of you. ‘Would’ve been a real shame if I did.’ You said, hyper aware of the fact that Felix was still staring intently at you. ‘But I’m glad you didn’t.’ He says softly, taking one last puff of his cigarette before its dying embers dwindled down to the bud, tossing it aside carelessly once it’s use has been served.

‘So am I.’ You replied, looking away from him and elsewhere as you pondered to yourself what you had gotten yourself into and what terrors would await for you at Saltburn.

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

Your first couple of days at Saltburn were okay to say the least.

Well that was mostly because Felix insisted that you’d spend the most of it together. So no matter where it was that you went through the manor, Felix was never far behind, looking over you like a protective shadow.

The pool? a shirtless Felix was sat poolside with a cigarette handing loosely from his lips, reflective shades concealing his dark eyes that you could feel shamelessly drinking you in as you dipped a toe.

The living room? Felix was there with a selection of movies and snacks that he retrieved from the kitchen along with comfy blankets.

The library? Felix was there reading a book that went over the treatment of women in Greek myths.

Bathroom? Felix was also there because upon giving you a grand tour of the intimidating building, he had informed you that you were to share a bathroom, instead of having you journey to the other side of the house to occupy another one.

You even remembered one time where you were deeply engaged in a topic with the likes of Farleigh and Venetia about Felix’s recent attitude towards you, with you being in denial and Farleigh and Venetia trying to make you see reason; When Felix came into the room as though looking for something, and upon seeing the three of you together, his jaw began to clench. It wasn’t until that very moment did you begin to take note of how Felix’s reluctance in having to share you with anyone else, and how it was staring to look something similar to a stubborn child who refused to share what he thought rightfully belonged to him.

‘Told you.’ Farleigh said with a winning smirk after Felix left the room in a huff. ‘He doesn’t want to share you with the rest of us, he only wants you for himself…and in more ways than one.’ He adds on, obviously knowing something that you didn’t.

‘What do you mean by that Farleigh?’ You had tried to ask but all he did was shrug nonchalantly and cryptically said, ‘you’ll see soon enough.’

You guessed you understood where Felix was coming from, I mean you did come here because of him, so naturally you were meant to be spending most of your time with him. However with what Farleigh had said earlier, you couldn’t help but theorise that there was a much deeper reasoning for Felix to have invited you to Saltburn; A theory that would later be put to the test when you were getting ready to go to bed, pulling back the covers just enough for you to slip in with ease, when a knocking at your door caught your ear.

‘Y/n. You in there? I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something recently and it couldn’t wait any longer.’ It was Felix. Your brows furrowed at this, what could he possibly want to talk about in the middle of the night?

As to not keep him waiting any longe then he might’ve been before knocking on your door. You quickly made your way to the door -though not before making sure you looked presentable- and opened it to see Felix stood in your doorway in his sleepwear, which consisted of a short sleeve shirt and a pair of blueish gray boxers, as his dark hair looked ruffled as though he had just been vigorously running his hands through it just minutes prior.

Either way he still looked extraordinarily appealing to the eye. However that was just how Felix looked to near enough everyone; extraordinarily delectable.

‘What conversation could possibly be so hard for you to not wait until tomorrow to have?’ You asked, brows raised, wanting nothing more than to put an end to all the mental gymnastics you’ve put yourself through within the past couple days; It got exhaustive after a while and his childish antics of giving you the cold shoulder didn’t make matters any better.

‘Look, I know I’ve been a bit of a dick to you recently.’ Felix began.

‘A bit?’ You echoed, slightly annoyed. ‘Felix you wouldn’t even look at me when I went to the pool, which if I remember correctly,’ you placed a finger on your chin, faking a face of deep thought before clicking your fingers and leaning in towards him, ‘you invited me to earlier that same day.’ You concluded dryly. ‘So how about you explain that before whatever you wanted to talk about, just so I’m given more of a clear picture as to where we stand.’

‘Fuck. I fucked up.’ Felix sighed under his breath as he ran his hand down his face, his dark eyes peering down the elongated hallway in hopes that no one -Farleigh- would come out and see what was all the commotion about, before they returned to look into yours and decided to just skip the words he was planning on telling you and just get straight to the point; long winded speeches of love was never his thing when he could just be straightforward about it. After all he was Felix fucking Catton, but it seemed that just being in your presence was enough to leave him a little speechless.

‘I like you.’ He began but immeditly felt that like wasn’t the right word to use when putting into words of what you did to him. ‘No, that don’t sound right because at the end of the day y/n, I fucking love you.’ Felix corrects himself and you immeditly felt the anything that you wanted to say to him exit your brain, as his sudden declaration took its place as the only thing that you could clearly focus on. ‘I brought you to Saltburn in hopes that one day I would stop being such a pussy and tell you how I truly felt.’ Felix then looked saddened as he continued. ‘Yet it seems that the only thing I’ve managed to accomplish is pushing you away because I thought that you wouldn’t want me like that, and would try to drive that home by spending time with Farleigh and Venetia.’ By the time Felix had finished pouring his heart out to you, everything leading up to this very moment started making a lot more sense, even Farleigh’s cryptic response made sense.

This entire time Felix was planning on confessing and Farleigh knew, which meant Venetia must’ve knew and therefore his parents considering how upon meeting them, they seemingly knew everything about you in incredible detail. You knew Felix was a bit of a blabber mouth under certain circumstances, but you didn’t ever think that he would ever rant to his parents about you in the slightest and in a positive light too. Though it did feel a little odd at first when Elspeth complimented your eyes but now you knew why and you couldn’t help but be flattered; Felix is a handsome and beautiful man that to be viewed within the same perspective was a new feeling entirely.

‘Really?’ You asked, biting the inside of your cheek, praying this wasn’t an extremely realistic dream.

‘Really.’ Felix replied without hesitation, beaming as he brazenly took a step towards you.

‘You’re not fucking with me?’ You asked again, still somehow not finding any of this remotely real, now bitting down on your bottom lip this time.

Felix stepped even closer to you now that you could feel his body heat, his hand gently holding you by the chin as his thumb gingerly pried your bottom lip from your teeth before then moving his head so that it was resting against your own, forcing you to focus on the dark pair of eyes that looked right back at you in a way that one would a masterpiece. ‘I’m not fucking with you.’ He spoke in a low but soft tone of voice. ‘I think you’re the most beautiful and the most amazing person I have ever met. You’re genuine, you’re kind but most importantly, you’re real and I both envy and adore you for that.’ Felix finishes and you couldn’t help but groan with impatience.

‘You could’ve conveyed all that if you would’ve kissed me.’ You whined, hands finding their home within his hair, raking and slightly tugging at the tresses, making him laugh. ‘As you wish.’ He utters cheekily as he then descends his lips upon yours in a passionate kiss that conveyed everything that had been said and more.

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 So Close, Quantico.

Post prison Reid x Fem!reader

Read part one here!

Summary: A strange visit to the prison ends with an unexpected confession of love and makes you run away again. You were ready to leave, but maybe this time he'll make you stay.

Words: 2,5k.

TW: literally none, just drama and sweet love+emily being a bestie. english is not my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I didn't expect to be asked for a second part because I'm still new here and I don't think anyone will read me (intrusive thoughts lol), but here I am giving it to you because Spencer needs a happy ending!

♡ Enjoy! ♡

Just as you sat down and pulled out a travel magazine to read while you waited for your flight, you got a call from Emily. You frowned and were confused for a few seconds until you remembered that you hadn't told her that you were going back to London so soon and that the possibility of having a drink together would not be fulfilled. You hadn't even said goodbye in person, and it was only now that you realized it.

You hadn't noticed anything after working on Spencer's case for four days straight and losing your mind over it. It was the first time you hadn't seen your client or personally briefed him on the progress of the investigation, and that impersonality made everything strange, but you knew he didn't want to see you, and you weren't going to push him. At least you managed to get him released on parole after you found some evidence of third party involvement in his alleged crime. And as soon as you were informed of this decision, you assigned a trusted lawyer to the case, booked a flight, and packed your bags.

“Don't hate me, but I'm about to catch a flight and I forgot to tell you.” You said quickly as soon as the call started and you could hear a sigh of shock from the other end.

“You what? Why? You just got here and we haven't even had a chance to talk and drink wine.” She replied after a few minutes of processing the information.

“I'm really sorry, Ems. I have things to do at my office and my work here is already done.” You tried to explain as you fiddled with the hem of your skirt. You didn't like the idea of looking like you were running away again, even if you were. “I really have to go.”

“You have or you want?”

The question alone made you sigh and question being best friends with a profiler. It was impossible to hide your feelings and thoughts from her.

“It doesn't matter...anyway, you can visit me whenever you want, I have plenty of wine at home.” You spoke trying to avoid her question at all costs. “Penelope and JJ can come, girls' night out and all.”

“And Spencer...?” She asked in a cautious tone, knowing that this was a complicated subject. After all, Emily was the one who had to put up with your sighing and crying over Reid for years.

“He's not a girl.”

You could almost see her roll her eyes at your answer, and by the tone of her voice when she told you she meant it, you knew she did.

“Seeing him was as strange as I imagined, but confirming that he doesn't want to see me and that he hates me felt worse than I thought. I have to face this from a distance.” You tried to explain and put into words the feelings you were avoiding.

“He doesn't hate you, and he definitely wants to see you.” She corrected you, making you frown.

“What? Please don't try to make me feel better with emotional profiling tricks.” You said wearily, looking up at the big screen with the flight schedules and realizing that it was still more than half an hour before your plane was due to arrive.

“These are not tricks. Seriously, if he didn't want to see you, he wouldn't have asked me for your hotel address yesterday.”

Your heart stopped at that moment, and any attempt to focus your attention on something else, or even keep your cool, failed. You didn't want to get your hopes up again and sound like a fool for getting excited about something so minimal.

“I'm not even at the hotel anymore, and he never went there.” You tried to control your nervousness and conceal how this information had thrown you. “Ems, my flight arrives in 30 minutes, I have to leave you, but I promise to call you more often and visit you sometime. I love you.” You ended in a chaotic way.

“Well, me too. But don't disappear, I'll wait for that girls' night.” She replied, defeated by your insistence, and paused before speaking again. “And tell Reid we have a case in Utah, we're leaving in 30.”

“What?” You asked immediately, not understanding if you had heard wrong, but she had already hung up.

You looked up again, expecting to see the central screen with the schedules, but instead of seeing your flight number in bright letters, you saw Spencer's brown eyes searching for you a few feet away. You had to blink several times to confirm that it was him and that you weren't hallucinating, and only then did Emily's last words make sense.

Was he here to see you? Was it possible?

You remained motionless in your seat, as if bound to it, and watched as Reid walked at a brisk pace straight towards you. It was the first time you had seen him since that chaotic visit to the prison, and you still had a bittersweet taste in your mouth from that interaction. He was wearing a suit now, probably the clothes he wore to work, and he looked like he had run several miles, judging by his disheveled hair and labored breathing.

“What are you doing here?” You asked as soon as you had him in front of you, rising from your seat to be at his height even though you were several inches shorter.

“I needed to talk to you for days and you never came to see me again.” He explained, still trying to regulate his breathing after searching for you all over the airport. “About what you told me before you left.”

“I didn't come back because you made it clear that you didn't want to see me, and I respected your wish.” You explained as calmly as you could. “And as for what I said, there's no need to talk about it. It's outdated and I shouldn't have brought it up.”

You saw him sigh and fidget chaotically for a second before he spoke again. He seemed nervous, as if he had rehearsed the conversation a thousand times in his mind.

“I need to talk about this. You told me you were in love with me...I just found out and I couldn't stop thinking about it, it's stuck in my head because you never told me.” He tried to speak slowly, but it was as if the old Spencer you once knew had reappeared and started babbling. “You said you were leaving because you were offered a better position and you were bored with this job, you never mentioned that...that you liked me.”

“My flight leaves in less than 30 minutes, I can't talk now.” You tried to get out of the situation, but he gently grabbed your arm before you could escape. And with a sigh, you spoke again. “Good. I never told you how much I liked you, but that doesn't change anything.”

You pulled away from his touch and putting your hands on your bags so you could leave soon.

“It changes. It really changes everything.”

“What? How?” You dropped the suitcases and looked at him in confusion.

He remained silent for a few seconds, looking at the clock on the bright screen above you, trying to use the little time he had to talk to you and express himself. He felt the words catch in his throat, and it was a disappointment after having only you as the protagonist of all his thoughts since you had visited him, pushing away any possibility of holding a grudge against you because the only thing on his mind was doubt about what would have happened if he had known.

Spencer had spent so many years locked in hate, trying to hold a grudge against you for leaving, leaving nothing but torturous memories in an eidetic memory and a ridiculous need for a hug from you every time things went wrong. And suddenly you showed up, looking as beautiful as ever, saving him from a traumatic experience and delivering information he never expected.

He had only been free for a few days and yet everyone looked at him differently, from pity to fear, knowing that prison had changed him forever. But not you, you looked at him as if he were the same as always, even though years had passed and you had only seen his worst face again.

“If I had known...if you had told me I...” He stammered, trying to find some courage to stop feeling like the same young man you had left. “You would know that I felt the same way.”

At that moment, you almost had to sit up again because of the impression his words had made on you. You closed your eyes and opened them again to make sure that you were not hallucinating and that it was really the one you had been dreaming about for years who was telling you that he also felt something for you before.

“You don't have to lie...no, don't lie to me like that just because I got you out of jail.” You started to blurt out, completely denying the strong beating of your heart.

“I appreciate you doing this, but I won't lie to you. I could never do something like this.” He assured you, looking you straight in the eye for confirmation. “And if you don't believe me, I can tell you exactly when I first realized I liked you, it was November 8, 2005, it was 11:35 in the morning because I looked at the clock. You had completed your third month with us and you went to talk to Gideon and Hotch because you wanted to get out in the field and stop doing paperwork. You were so nervous about getting fired that you grabbed my hand before you left, but you didn't notice because you were busy listening to my comments about your performance. I thought it was nothing and that I was just nervous because you were the only one I was talking to and I was afraid of losing you, but before you left you smiled at me and I knew everything was going to be okay. Again I thought it was nothing...but every time things went wrong I thought about it, I still do because that smile is probably the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life.”

“I...” You tried to speak and formulate even one word, but it kept getting stuck in your throat.

“Wait, I'm not done yet.” He interrupted you, saving you from a possible babble. “I never told you because I thought you didn't feel the same way and that you saw me as a younger brother to be taken care of. I'd rather have you as a friend than not have you at all, so I left it in my mind as an impossibility and I thought I was completely over it until you left and I lost my mind...and it's happening again.”

“God, I need to sit down.” It was all you could say at the time as you tried to process everything he said.

You sat down with his help and watched him relax a little as he finished speaking, as if he had waited a long time to say it and had practiced it many times. You felt your heart pound after years of dreaming of hearing those words from him. You had never imagined a life where Spencer felt anything more than friendship for you, and now it was real. He had loved you as much as you wanted, and you had been too blind to see it before other people came along.

“I know it's been years since you got over me and that I was a jerk to you when you came to see me, but you need to know that ever since I saw you I couldn't stop thinking about what my life would have been like if I had told you from the beginning.” He spoke again, trying to look closely at you to decipher what was going through your mind. “I'm sorry, I'm really sorry if this has upset you or...”

“Do you know how long I've waited to hear you say that?” You said, still surprised, taking the opportunity to get up from your chair.

“I'm sorry, I know it's too late and now you're going to leave again, but this time I'm here to ask you not to do it again.” He came over and took you by the hands, bending down a little to be at your level, as if he was begging you. “And I know it's selfish because you have to go and you have a life away, but I really...”

“Spencer.” You stopped him before he started babbling, and he looked at you anxiously for your answer. “It's not too late.”

“Really?” He asked, as if he could not believe he had heard you correctly.

“Really.”

You gave him a small smile of affirmation and felt your eyes glaze over with emotion as you felt him release your hands and grab your cheeks to wipe away the stray tear that had fallen. The look of tenderness he gave you along with his touch made you tremble.

“Are you planning to kiss me already or are you going to wait 13 more years?” You spoke without even thinking.

He didn't have to think once before closing the distance between you and fulfilling the longing that had been in your mind for so long. You couldn't say anything because his lips had been on yours before and the first contact had almost made you melt. His hands were still on your cheeks, but one of them went down to your waist to pull you closer and make sure you were real.

Your lips tasted like cherries and that made him smile immediately in the middle of the kiss, thinking that you were still wearing the same lipstick that you had applied in front of him so many times and that he had only dreamed of tasting. Finally, the reality was far better than any fantasy and the softness mixed with the intensity of a repressed love during the kiss because finally the stars had aligned for the two of you.

“Are you going to go out on a date with me?” He asked as soon as you both parted.

“I have a girls' night out first.” You replied, letting it be known that you were tired of running away. “But I'd love to go on a date with you.”

He came over and gave you a quick kiss before you could say anything else. You returned the kiss and then pulled away, putting your arms around his neck.

“You're kissing me like this before the first date?” You joked, still trapped in the bubble of love you felt you were in.

“I don't intend to wait any longer now that I have you here.” He responded by giving you a kiss on the head and wrapping his arms around you to hug you. “So please don't go away for 6 years again.”

“I don't plan to go anywhere now.”

[castiwls]

tolerate it - d.w

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'I wait by the door like I'm just a kid'

Requested; @simonsbluee

Notes;this is my all time fav cry song. i actually wrote an anakin version as well lmao I'll post that in a min :) requests are open!

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

You stared blankly at the wall in front of you. “Sweetheart. Come on, talk to me.” Dean took a seat beside you, turning his body to face you. “This is the third time in two weeks.” You kept your gaze on the wall as you spoke. 

“It’s only a few days.” He placed his hand over yours, leaning in slightly. You quickly pulled your hand back, a sharp breath leaving your lips. “It’s always only a few days.” You hissed standing from the bed. “A few days then becomes a week because oh look Sam found another case.” You leaned back on the dresser, finally facing him.

“And I just get left behind, sitting here waiting on you both like some…some child!” Dean stared at you his face passive. “What do you expect me to do? Bring you with” His gaze hardened slightly as he spoke. “You don’t have any sort of training, i’d only be putting you and us in danger!” Dean stood coming to stand before you. 

“I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Keeping me trapped is your way of keeping me safe?” You shook your head. “Just go.” Dean reached out wrapping a hand around your wrist. “Don’t be like this.” He tilted his head, a small frown playing at his lips. “Like what”

“Difficult. Don’t be difficult” He snapped. You froze at his words, your blood running cold. Your head turned to face him, and a look of betrayal crossed your features for a moment before you calmed your expression. Difficult. He’d called you difficult all because you’d complained about being left. 

Most of the time you felt second best. Second best to all the creatures out there that he seemed so determined to kill. You knew it was a difficult job but you’d never expected it to come first.

You could count on one hand the number of times this month alone Dean had been home for more than one day consistently. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d even been on a date with him. 

“Just go.” You pulled your hand from his grip, your voice thick as you pushed back tears. You quickly left the room taking a breath to compose yourself. “We need to talk about this.” Dean’s voice followed you down the hall. He let out a huff watching as you took a seat at the map table. You grabbed a book before opening it.

You’d done this a hundred times. Dean and you would fight, you’d complain about being stuck here and then he’d promise, ‘next time sweetheart’. And then he’d go off for days with little to no contact before he’d come back mostly beaten and bruised.

You could feel him watching you as you swallowed trying to hold back your tears. Did he truly think you were that helpless, that you would be that much of a risk to even take on a hunt.

Dean quietly moved behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. Your breath hitched slightly as you felt his breath hit your ear. “I’ll make it up to you, i promise.” He pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

You felt his weight leave your shoulders as he straightened up. The sound of his footsteps echoed as he left the room.

A shaky breath left your lips as you felt your composure break. Pressing a hand to your mouth you placed the book down finally allowing the tears to follow.

After a moment you managed to calm yourself. You glanced back down the hallway, the bunker suddenly seeming larger now that you were alone.

“You always say that.” 

[myokk]

Sebastian Sallow's List of Priorities (in no particular order):

Figure out what the hell I'm going to do when I graduate;

Figure out how the hell I'm going to finish this bloody Charms essay before tomorrow; and

Figure out what the hell is going on between us

Sebastian sits in an undisturbed corner of the library - nobody ever comes to this table because it's tucked away between shelves of incredibly dense magical theory books - and is twirling his quill in his fingers, watching the ink splatter on the list he spent his precious time writing instead of the Charms essay he should be working on. He's far away from the first-years who like to congregate by the windows and watch the leaves fall softly to the ground rather than study for their classes. He's made especially sure that he is far, far away from her.

It's not his choice, mind you, but he needs to be a gentleman about these things. If she needs some time and space to figure out that she's as crazy for him as he is her, fine. But even Sebastian Sallow's patience runs thin, and he's not sure how much longer he can give her to come to her senses before he snaps and takes matters into his own hands. If things were up to him, the two of them would be sitting far too close together now in this secluded corner, and maybe he would need to put a hand over her mouth to ensure her complete silence as he runs a hand up her thigh.

Now that he knows what delicious sounds can come out of her mouth - sounds that he caused - he's been having a hard time concentrating on, well, anything. Sebastian surreptitiously glances across the library to where she's sitting and studying with his sister and Imelda. Ever since the events after their Divination class, Sir Cadogan has taken it upon himself to follow Sebastian around the halls of the castle, tripping through frames and disrupting their inhabitants as he lectures Sebastian on love. The tea party women had managed to convince the knight that he had disrupted an amorous exchange, and Sebastian fervently wishes they hadn't.

The whole school is abuzz with rumors about who it could be. Nobody has even come close so far with their guesses, but Anne and Imelda are having too much fun teasing him about it. Somehow, she has managed to avoid suspicion - he wonders how this is even possible, since she's never been able to hide what she's thinking. He makes eye contact with her - has she been staring at him this whole time? - and she flushes before looking over to Imelda, who's laughing too loudly at something Anne's just said. Sebastian can't tear his eyes away from her profile, his eyes following the curve of her eyebrow, the slight upturn of her lips as she smiles at her friends, her eyes as they dart back to him, her cheeks as she turns an even darker shade of red as she realizes he's still watching her. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and rests her chin on her hand as she tries to look absorbed in what Anne is saying to her.

Sebastian wonders if she's thought about him as much as he's thought about her. Judging by how she had snogged him back, he's positive that she feels the same way, but then he remembers how she had looked at him before she fled, and he's not so sure. He sighs as he looks back to his list, bringing his quill back to the third item and ripping the paper as he crosses it out again. His mind has been going in circles since that moment and he doesn't know what to think. He slowly puts everything into his schoolbag before heading out of the library for yet another freezing cold shower that hopefully tempers his now-permanent state of arousal whenever she's around.

He doesn't notice her eyes following him as he walks out of the library.

He doesn't hear her hurried excuse to Anne and Imelda as she shoves her things into her bag and rushes to follow him.

He doesn't hear her light footsteps as she gets closer to him.

When she puts a hand out to touch his arm as he waits for the moving staircase to stop, with a soft, "Sebastian" accompanying it, he nearly jumps out of his skin. He was so absorbed with thoughts of her, that to see her standing at his side, closer than she had been since they kissed was almost his snapping point.

"Can we talk?" she asks, looking almost embarrassed as she avoids his eyes. She instead looks determinedly at his collar. He thinks she probably notices that he swallows nervously before acquiescing, but she says nothing as she turns and starts hurrying away from him without waiting to see if he follows her.

She must know that he would follow her anywhere at this point.

from my oneshot🫶🫶🫶

I just really wanted to draw these two idiots😭💘

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

The Morning After

Summary: Reader and Spencer are waking up after a big fight the night before.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Angst, Comfort

Content warnings: Relationship troubles

Word count: 1k

You woke up not convinced you had slept. Your eyelids sticking together and sore from the stark morning light must indicate otherwise, right? It stings no matter how often you blink. It’s a similar sting to chlorine and your body clears it out. But no matter how many times you blink, the pain remains.

Normally, Spencer’s hogging the bed, his arms pressed against your back like he was in a casket but sideways while you grip the edge and hope you don’t meet the floor with your nose. Stretching your arm out to feel the other side feels unnatural. No hand ready to grab you and smack your knuckles with a kiss. No grinding teeth that you’ve told him is a sign of stress and he should get checked out.

This all felt worse. Even though Spencer was just in the living room, he still felt too far away. But what’s the right way to deal with that? How does one bounce back from such a brutal night?

Well, you don’t bounce back. You take it slow. You pick yourself up from the pillows, your body aching like a hangover. Sitting upright did not help your headache; the pain between your eyes is strong, recovering from scrunching so violently in the midst of sobbing and yelling. You’re both lucky the neighbors didn’t call the cops.

You sway around the bed, left to right like a stiff pendulum. In the doorway, you see your boyfriend. His hair is a moppy mess. He's got a fresh dark roast in his hands, and it takes all his concentration to bring it to his lips. It’s almost precious if you didn’t remember you’re partially responsible for putting him in that state. You watch him sip slowly, the heat hits his skin and he remains unfazed. He pulls it away.

“Morning.” You croak out. You push yourself out of the doorway as you wrap yourself tight in your robe.

His face turns to you as he considers another sip. “Morning.” He puts his cup on the end table. “There’s… uh there’s plenty more. If you want any.”

You nod, crossing your arms close to your chest. Even though you don’t waste time grabbing the hot pot and plenty of creamer, your mind concentrates on the feeling of eyes pressing into your back. The sound of the leather shifting with his weight, maybe he was watching to make sure you weren’t walking out (like you may or may not have threatened to do last night). When you turn around though, he does too, he knows you saw it.

Because you know what to do.

You walk to the couch, taking the side opposite as you take two gulps of your beverage, ignoring the semi-sweet liquid’s heat. You settle in with your cup close by while Spencer occupies himself with his own hands like he’s been called to the principal’s office.

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

A third sip. “Yeah, probably best.” You eventually put your cup down after another eager drink. Your magazines were arranged on the table in front of you, labeled by issue. And not just that, but the books that were once sprawled on the floor were put back neatly on the shelves, in their intended alphabetical order. You pause at the sight. “You… wait, you cleaned up last night?”

Spencer coughed to pretend he wasn't so tired, saying "Yeah. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured, you know, why not?” He equipped the rhetorical question with a shrug.

You rub your face. It all hurts. “I didn’t mean to back into the shelf. I hope you know that.”

“I know.”

“Good, okay.” The silence is thick. Expected, but still daunting. The chest pain that comes with holding your breath so sternly is not something you thought of before. And you wish it would go away. So you start it. “Do you want to go first, or would —”

“I’m sorry.” Spencer interrupts.

“Huh?”

“I’m really sorry. What I said, it was out of line.”

You sigh. The relief of it all (or part of it, the rest will come in time) pours out with one exhale. Your lungs still feel the ache, but again, in due time. “Me too. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have retaliated the way I did.”

Spencer’s lips pull into a smile as his head falls back. “Okay. Good.” He swallowed. “Good.”

You don’t waste time taking up space between you. Your knees touch as you reach out to brush his cheekbones with your knuckles. You move further up and rub the redness around his eyes. They match yours. So you know the area is sensitive. Spencer, however, looks up at the ceiling as you touch it. Soon though, he takes your hand and presses a kiss to the skin. “Not as sloppy as I usually am."

“It’s okay.” Your grip tightens in his. “I think we both need to rehydrate.”

“And sleep more,” Spencer said.

“That sounds nice.” You slip out of Spencer’s hold and comb his hair back with your fingers, clearing them from his face. “Want to go back to bed?”

Spencer’s face scrunches and readjusts in his seat, rubbing his shoulder blade against the couch’s back. “I don’t think I can. It’s not easy to turn comfortably here.”

“You don't have to sleep on the couch.”

Spencer looked back at you. “Really? You sure?”

“You deserve a decent sleep in your own bed.”

Before Spencer has a chance to protest, you’ve picked yourself up from the couch and started pulling him up by the wrists. Despite his weary state, he followed you and stood up himself. You tugged his arm to the bedroom, to the sweet relief of a mattress, pillows, and potential cuddles. Spencer however tugs back, and he brings you into a soft hug. His head on your shoulder, his arms linking together to cage you into the warmth of his body. You gladly (and sleepily) follow by putting your arms around his neck. And you stay there. For a while.

[set-wingedwarrior]

My most important sapphic ships post before Pride Month ends

What the title says, studying kept (and still keeps me) busy so we gotta go fast lol

Bumbleby (RWBY)

to the surprise of absolutely no one, they get first place (despite me not going in a particular order) because of reasons. They're perfect. Soulmates. Slowburn of all time. Yin and Yang. Eyes the color of each other's souls. Truest OTP to ever OTP in my book. ∞/10

Konosetsu (Negima!)

I already talked about them in their own post, this scene changed my life leading to my self-discovery and it still lives rent-free in my mind.

Kyosaya (Madoka Magica)

I'd also add MadoHomu but I'm trying to keep it to just one for each fandom. That said, they still make me mentally unwell. I love them, and I did for a long time now. I can't wait for the next movie to come out and suffer.

Ruby and Sapphire (Steven Universe)

These bitches had the first cartoon gay wedding and kiss DO I NEED TO SAY MORE???

Korrsami (Avatar)

Still down the queer cartoons making history path, these two made me insane back in the day because I still didn't understand I was queer and lots of sapphic couple were starting to appear in media, and I remember jokingly say how "lesbian ships were hauting me". All I can say now is "Thank you" lol. Anyway, they were incredibly important and all the people criticizing how little queerness there's in the show will never understand just how massive this scene was.

Catradora (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Friends to Enemies to back to Friends to Lovers. Iconic. I still want a movie with their adventures bringing magic back to the universe.

Hollstein (Carmilla)

My third beloved blonde with a cat gf ship. I miss this web-series every day. Also, Natasha Negovanlis played an immense role in my gay awakening.

Ellie and Riley (The Last of Us: Left Behind)

Ellie and Dina are adorable and I love them, BUT I just will never get over these two. That dlc fucked me up. (also, they're in the same category with Korrasami as "gay ships that hauted me before I realized I was queer" lol)

Lumity (The Owl House)

I remember starting this show feeling it as the successor of Steven Universe, at least to me. We could say that at level of mistreatment from its parent company, it defenitely surpassed it, but at least I'm glad I was right and we got Luz and Amity becoming canon. I love these two and not a day passes without me yelling at Disney for what it did to them.

Bubbline (Adventure Time)

I actually watched Adventure Time fully only recently, but I always loved them even when I watched the show randomly when it appeared in tv back in the day. Getting to see the progression properly just made me love them even more.

Yasammy (Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous/Chaos Theory)

Incredibly recent addition, but I am so glad that I checked out Camp Cretaceous and got into it. It's a nice show and these two are a really cute couple, their confession and especially Yaz's internal turmoil were just so on point. I was really happy to see them go still strong in Chaos Theory, and I can't wait for next season.

Pricefield (Life is Strange)

These two caused me pain in the best possible way. I felt literal heartbreak at the Bay Ending, and I was just as emotional at the Bae one (Bae > Bay Forever) I hope the new game will respect their relationship OR ELSE.

Wow, this is quite the list. I do have an amazing taste, if I do say so myself, ahah!

Well, I guess this is it for now, glad I could make it before Pride Month was over! Knowing myself I might have actually forgotten some though, so keep an eye out for possible updates (what makes me even think that you'd care? lol).

That would be all, be gay and do crimes! Bye!

[chasingwhitebunnies]

Headcanon that Merlin keeps notebooks and writes down everything - everything - he wants to show and tell Arthur whenever he comes back

It starts off as a project. He writes down important moments, things he knows he will have to inform Arthur of if when he comes back, but one day, Gwen tells him a joke and he can’t help thinking it would have made Arthur laugh. It was a bittersweet realisation, so he wrote it down to share with Arthur whenever he saw him

Slowly, more jokes were added, and anecdotes, books he wanted to tell him about, plays and music he was sure Arthur would enjoy, and eventually films and shows

Sometimes, he writes when he particularly misses him

He keeps these notebooks on a large secondhand bookshelf, and tries to keep them in chronological order, although the earlier ones aren’t in the best condition after a thousand or so years, but he’s enchanted them to stay legible

It becomes a habit. He decides, subconsciously and superstitiously, that once he has filled the bookshelf, Arthur will return. Merlin does, and Arthur doesn’t. He buys a second bookshelf, and then a third

Finally, Arthur is back and Merlin excitedly showing him his collection and telling him there’s so much he has to share. Arthur is amazed, “you wrote all of this for me?”

Merlin realises suddenly how overwhelming it must seem. “It made it easier, not being able to share all these moments with you. It felt like I was sharing them with you in a way. It was like I was writing you a letter.” He shakes his head. “But you’re here now, it’s silly! You don’t have to read them at all. I can go over them and pick out the important parts, the things you’ll need to know and—”

Arthur stops him. They go through each book together. Merlin hadn’t realised how many good moments he had forgotten over time, and he gets to relive them with Arthur at his side, both chuckling along as Arthur asks questions, “you did what?”

They aren’t all nice stories. Merlin winces as they get to the wars. Arthur holds his hand as he recounts each loss of a friend, and Arthur hates to see Merlin grieve, but he’s glad that he made friends throughout his life because he couldn’t bear the thought of Merlin being entirely alone while he waited for him

But even if he wasn’t always alone, he was lonely. The notebooks proved as much, and sometimes Merlin still panicked if he woke up and Arthur wasn’t close. Eventually, Arthur slid into Merlin’s bed beside him, only to keep him calm. It was the best Merlin had slept since- well, he couldn’t remember

Sometimes one of them would wake up with nightmares of the wars and battles and deaths and wounds, and the other would hold them until they fell back to sleep. Merlin kissed Arthur’s forehead one night without meaning to and froze, but Arthur had only burrowed deeper and fallen asleep with a soft smile

“So that was the last book,” said Arthur as Merlin finished the final page

“Yes, I wrote that the night before you came back,” said Merlin

“I’m all caught up,” said Arthur. “There’s nothing more to say.”

“No, no more to say,” Merlin agreed absentmindedly

A silence fell over them. Who moved first, it was impossible to tell, as if they had both decided in the exact same moment that it had to be now, and they kissed, pulling each other close

“I love you,” said Merlin once they eventually parted

“I got that,” said Arthur, gesturing to the pile of notebooks surrounding them. “The longest love letter in history,” Merlin laughed before Arthur added, “I love you, too”

Edit to add: the last show Merlin wrote that they watched together was Heartstopper, thanks

[messyhairedhazeleyeddude]

Ache // Yandere! Ticci Toby x

Fem! Reader {SMUT}

[Hello, this will be the first fic that I post. What I'm going to give you guys beforehand is some trigger warnings before we get on to it. Other than that, I hope you enjoy it and give me some feedback whenever you're done if you feel in the mood.]

TW // Violence, r@pe, and a whole lotta mention of murder as always.

𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ - First P.O.V

Every day, it started like this. Planted in my bed, tangled in my grey sheets, waiting for that one sliver of motivation to get out of my blankets. My room was a mess. Pieces of clothing scattered across the floor, piling up around my dresser, and hanging off of places I tossed them.

I stared over the rest of what I could see while trying to get rid of the bitter taste of soda left on my tongue from last night. The posters I've collected of my favorite bands clung onto the wall for dear life, fading away from how long they had been there. An empty Sprite can stood on my nightstand, left there after my body decided to have its third caffeine crash this week.

It was getting so warm where I was lying that I was starting to overheat, making me shuffle around to stay cold. That wasn't too hard because of how freezing my room was.

When I looked at my window, I noticed it was cracked open. If I didn't shut it soon, it would get worse. But minutes were melting into each other and I didn't want to get up. Why did I love to procrastinate so much? It shouldn't be this hard to move on with my day.

Silence filled every corner of my apartment, leaving me to peacefully rot. Was it selfish of me to be like this? That's what it felt like they were trying to say when I talked to relatives. But that's the reason why I prefer to be shut-in. I never had to hear that about myself. The world outside would remain indifferent. And hopefully, by the time I had to move, I was swallowed into the Earth below.

A sudden vibration of my phone startled me. I mumbled a barrage of curses and reached for it slowly, furrowing my brows and groaning. I could only pray that it wasn't him trying to contact me.

The last time he visited, I no longer felt safe outside. I would check behind me constantly, feeling as if his light brown eyes were glued to my back, and at any moment, he could come back and chop off my limbs until I was a headless torso. Remembering that he existed caused that horrible anxiety to spread goosebumps across my skin. I was shaking as I tried to unlock my phone.

Hundreds of notifications popped up that I had been ignoring, some of them messages from my mom, and the rest were emails. I almost accidentally clicked on one before I found the most recent. "Return library books today," it read. Fuck, I forgot today was the due date for those. Despite not wanting to, I had to get up. I did promise that if I had a reason to, I would.

I peeled myself from the comfort of my bed. My sheets clung to me like glue, trying to pull me back as if it were a bad idea. Fighting against it, I shivered at the sudden change in temperature and pulled down the bottoms of my shorts so they weren't wedged in between my ass.

After not walking for what felt like forever, I took my first steps, a soreness on my left thigh making me place a hand on my dresser for support. I looked down at a bruise from that encounter, biting my lip to distract myself from thinking about it. I need to take my pills or I'll get suicidal. So many things to do. So overwhelmed.

Encouraging myself in my head, I found the strength to go for the door. I opened it and turned down my hallway, going for the bathroom with quick and light steps.

Many pictures of family and portraits were loosely decorated on the wall, a pit in my stomach opened when I stared at them. I lingered on my dad and had to tear myself away from the picture before I felt the need to cry.

Stumbling into the bathroom, I flicked on the harsh yellow light and stood before the mirror, running a hand through my disheveled hair. I reached for the medicine cabinet, the hinges squeaking as I rummaged through it. I grabbed my medication and popped the bottle open, tossing out a tiny pill into my palm. I swallowed the bitter capsule and cringed as it slowly went down.

Turning my attention to the sink, I turned on the cold water and brought my mouth to the tap to take a sip. Then I splashed it on my face after I was done, relieved that the pill was no longer there. On the counter, I focused on the facewash I hadn't used in god knows how long. I missed the feeling of my face being clean. At least, I can't forget about it now.

I poured the runny liquid into my hands and rubbed them together, slapping it on my face and rubbing it in circles to get deep in my pores. It foamed up a bit and burned. If I'm going to be honest, I don't know if I'm supposed to be using this, but it works.

As I was splashing the water on my face again to clean it off, I opened my eyes to a man staring at me in the mirror, causing me to freeze. I could see the glisten of his goggles from here, that blue hood covering his messy hair, but it didn't contain enough around the edges. It was him. The man who attacked me and my dad a couple of days ago.

A scream clawed its way up my throat, but before the sound could escape, I reached for something. Grab anything to protect myself, that's all I needed to do. But before I could, the room blurred as I twisted, my hand grasping a razor for a split second.

I was torn away from it. I felt a hard impact on my back as I was slammed against the wall, the air forcing out of my lungs in a sharp gasp. I struggled to breathe, my hands grabbing onto his wrists while they dug into my neck.

He had me pinned against it and struggling to get any sort of noise out. Slowly, I was dragged up upward and lifted off of the ground. I choked, my vision was fading as his glare burned into mine. He's going to kill me. Just like he did to Dad. He's going to get away with it. I pulled my head back against the wall before lunging it forward to collide it with the serial killer's, his hands faltering their hold and dropping me from the force of it.

I collapsed to the floor and sputtered out several coughs, hunched up in a ball and desperately trying to regain the oxygen he took from me. My neck felt numb, the indents of his fingers bruising and stung like a bitch.

He crouched down to me. I closed my eyes and thought he would finish it right there. But when I suddenly felt his lips press against mine, they shot back open. Breathing heavily through my nose, I stared at his shut eyelids. I glanced down at his lashes, feeling his breath as he sighed. He relaxed into me for a split second before pulling away, lowering his voice to a rough whisper to introduce himself, "It's nice to meet you finally, {F/N}. The name's Tobias."

Struggling to get myself sitting up, I made it by resting on the wall and using my hands to keep me there. My chest rapidly went up and down as I watched his every move. He backed away a bit, but not enough to give me leverage. I repeated, "Tobias?" And his eyebrow quirked up like he was questioning my reaction.

"I can also go by Toby. Whatever you prefer. But I gave you my full name because I really like you, [F/N]," he added. I knitted my brows and shook my head, unable to understand what he was saying. He liked me? He just kissed me? What the fuck?

I pushed myself away from him and got back up, running for it and successfully escaping the bathroom. The front door was right in front of me, I barely got to reach for it before I felt a hand grab a fistful of my hair. No, I almost had it!

Strands of my hair were ripped out as I was yanked backward and thrown onto the couch, falling onto it and yelping in pain. Tears fell from my eyes and I clutched my head, grabbing the part that hurt the most. A headache was coming on and I couldn't help but rock myself to soothe it. I sobbed, "Leave me alone! Please, just leave me alone..." I twisted myself to let out the rest in the cushions, hearing him approach behind me.

After crying for a bit and nothing was happening to me, I hesitantly lifted myself to take a peek. Toby was sitting next to me, almost as if he was waiting patiently for me to finish. When he saw that I was staring at him, he patted his lap and said, "Here. Rest your pretty head and we can get to talking about this, sweetheart."

I was too scared of him to tell him no. It was the first time I felt pure terror from somebody. Like I would never be able to fight back with him. And I was right. I couldn't. The sad truth was that if my dad had fallen to this man, I'm sure I would live the same fate if I didn't listen. Dragging myself, I cringed while laying my head onto his leg, feeling his hand rest on my head and causing me to flinch. "Sh, sh, I'm not going to hurt you anymore. I told you, I really adore you, [F/N]," he reassured me. A part of me wanted to bite his leg to pieces, but if I went along with this until he fell asleep or left, then I could escape and possibly go to the police.

Deciding to go with it, I pretended to enjoy the warmth and snuggled into him. I wouldn't call it pretending actually, he was pretty warm. Toby hummed and it stayed like this for some time. He kept petting me, brushing my hair out of the way, soothing me from the chase earlier.

Eventually, he got bored of it and nudged me to sit back up. I tilted my head and asked, "What?" His hand went to rest on my lower back, applying pressure around it, pushing me forward until I was easing into sitting on him. A smile crossed his face at the compliance. He seemed intrigued by it.

"I didn't think you would give up this quick. I thought I was going to have to give you a couple more marks for memories," he sounded pleased as both of his arms wrapped around my waist. They were much bigger than mine, with a couple of veins etched up around them like vines, and faded scars littering everywhere on his skin. He had been doing this for years by the looks of it. There was no way in hell I was going to escape, huh?

Placing another kiss on my cheek, soft and gentle, his eyelashes brushed against me before he pulled away to speak again, "Do you know what I've been picturing every night to the thought of you, [F/N]?" His hands dropped lower to skim over my ass, lightly gripping, and dragging me toward him. My breath hitched. I didn't say a word.

Toby answered for me, "I've been picturing taking these off..." His fingers gripped around the waistband of my shorts and teased me about taking them off by pushing them down lightly. Continuing that, he said, "Have you to myself for a couple of hours..."

There were so many reasons why I should say no to him and why I shouldn't allow him to touch me like this. For one, he killed my father. He broke into my house and he was physically violent to me. I felt disgusting that he had gotten to this level too. But, I didn't stop him. I didn't say no and I didn't deny it. I looked into this killer's eyes and I leaned onto his chest, giving into what he wanted

When we kissed for the second time, I noticed how chapped his lips were, and opened my mouth a little to swipe my tongue across his bottom one. Toby tensed up. And without warning, I felt his tongue use the opportunity to have an exchange with mine. I gasped through my nose, the escalation getting worse and worse. A blush began to spread across my face.

He lifted me off of his lap to flip me onto the couch, putting both of his palms by either side of my head. I was back to being pinned underneath him. I don't know what was happening to me. Something was wrong with me, I was sick for this. I was sick... because I enjoyed this.

His sweater and shirt fell to the floor as we fought each other with kisses. His teeth bit into my lower lip and pulled it back while I moved to unbuckle his belt. I was giving in to this. I was really fucking the guy that took away everybody I loved in my life.

Barely in any clothes, we both took a moment to stare at each other, oddly feeling like he was admiring me from how he looked up and down my body. Toby took his time, pressing small pecks across my chest up to my neck, snaking his arms around to my back. He unclipped my bra and slipped it off of me. I wanted to cover myself, but I no longer wanted to move. I didn't have any motivation. There was nothing left to fight for.

The gloves and bandages around his fingers felt weird against my skin especially when he played with my chest. He squeezed one, bit the other, and once he heard a moan slip out of me, he stopped to let me process. He complimented me, his voice a bit raspy like he was fighting the urge to do something to me already, "You look even better so close like this, with how foggy those windows would get. It would make me want to break them and threaten you then and there."

I bit the inside of my cheek and he got closer, hooking onto my panties and pulling them down as a smirk spread on his face. My lack of response didn't concern him. He kept going despite that, throwing the thin fabric somewhere in the room before he looked up at me. His hair was in his face and the eyebags around his eyes told me he was more than dangerous. How many times has he done this?

Toby muttered seriously, breaking me out of the moment, "Who do you belong to?" I blankly gazed at him, watching as he stood up and slowly inched his boxers down. I can't speak. I can't tell him that. More scars appeared, his v-line making my eyes linger, and I got distracted. His dick was let out before I could respond.

My eyes widened and I tried to squeeze my legs shut, but he kept them apart as soon as they moved, holding both of my knees up to my shoulders. I was breathing super fast, my heart raced, and I was feeling the ache in between both of my legs. It was nothing compared to when he positioned himself and pushed the tip inside.

Digging my nails into his arms, I cried out in pain and threw my head back, looking up at his satisfied face. Toby groaned, a laugh following behind it, "You don't have to answer. I'll do it for you." He rammed most of what he could, grabbing both of my thighs so tightly that it was guaranteed to be bruised. I screamed out. He was too rough and too much for me to take like this. It hurt. It fucking ached. I was being drilled into the cushions.

Trying to handle it was impossible. He made it impossible for me. His hips connected as he went deeper, loud slaps coming from it, bouncing off and echoing. I didn't want to think about the neighbors hearing me lose my dignity like this. I didn't want to think about the fact my dad could be witnessing this. But it was starting to feel good. Really fucking good. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and after that, I didn't care anymore.

I wrapped my legs and arms around him, pulling him closer and savoring his dick carving into the parts I didn't know were there. Moaning, swearing, and muttering filled the room. We were getting lost in the bliss and saying whatever was on the mind. Or I was. His name left me a couple of times and so did encouragement, "More.. More, please, Toby!"

Flipping around again when he got a little tired, I gyrated my hips and sat on his lap so I could bounce, sliding up and down until I could feel my walls beginning to squeeze. I was close and this position wasn't helping. I held my breath and Toby took notice, pressing his forehead against mine.

"Let it out for me, baby. Don't be shy," he cooed, sweat dripping down his forehead like he was holding back his own. I bit the inside of my cheek and a desperate moan came out, "Fuuuuuck, cummm with! Please!"

He didn't listen to me and lifted me off of the couch with him, holding me up in the air while guiding me down onto his shaft. I went limp and drool fell down the side of my chin as I buried myself into the crook of his neck, biting it a little to vent out the overwhelming pleasure. Toby didn't let up until a couple of more minutes of fucking me passed and I was fucked out enough that my legs were shaking.

When he was about to cum himself, he set me back down, rushing up to my face to give me a facial. My mouth was open from panting and I caught a bit on my tongue, swallowing it when we were back to locking eyes. The rest landed on my nose, cheeks, and lips. He let out a loud groan as he unwinded, pulling away to see the display once he was done.

I lay there. Used. I lay there for him to stare at. Until he walked away for cleaning supplies. To think about what I was doing. To come back down and face the new reality I was in. I was his now and he was mine. And there was nothing I could do about it.

[silent-stories]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader

Summary: Eddie was not used to a kind of touch that was not violent until he met you.

Warnings: angst, fluff, domestic violence, blood

1972

Eddie was seven years old and didn't know how to ride a bike.

His mom had left about a year before and Eddie was a child but he wasn't stupid: he knew she wasn't coming back.

His father had lost his job and Eddie didn't know what he did all day - and often all night - outside their house.

No one had ever taught him to ride a bike. But that hadn't stopped him from trying to learn when he found an abandoned bicycle next to a garbage can on his way home from school.

The other kids made it look so easy.

The first time he fell he grazed his knee, which started bleeding when his skin scraped against the asphalt after his jeans ripped.

He wanted to cry but his father said real men didn't cry, so he got up and tried again.

The second time he fell, his arm hit the ground and blood started coming from the scrapes on his elbow as well.

The third time he ended up with his face against the asphalt and a cut on his left eyebrow.

He tried again and again, until even his hands were covered in blood and bruised.

When he got home he used a bottle of whiskey to disinfect the wounds, he didn't know if it was really useful but his father always did it when he came home bleeding.

In his room then, he cried. Not really from the pain of the wounds and the bruises that were starting to form, but because his mom had left him, his father hated him and no one cared about him enough to even teach him how to ride a damn bike.

1974

Eddie was nine years old and he was used to seeing his father come home drunk.

"What the fuck do you want?" the man asked seeing his son as he was stumbling into the house.

Eddie just stood there saying nothing, watching his father struggle to remove his jacket and missing the coat rack, then heading to the kitchen and opening the fridge.

"I told you to buy some beer." He said closing it and turning to look Eddie in the eye.

"I'm nine. They said they won't let me buy it." Eddie muttered and it was the truth.

The father walked towards him and Eddie had to keep from stepping back.

When he reached out his hand for him Eddie flinched but the hand stayed in front of him.

"The money."

Right, his dad was waiting for Eddie to give back the money he didn't spend on beer.

There was just one problem. Eddie had spent that money on a book. He had seen it displayed in a shop window next to a supermarket and hadn't resisted, only now did he realize how stupid he had been.

"So?" Repeated his father, "the money"

Eddie shook his head.

"No?" Eddie could hear a note of anger in his off-balance words. "No what?"

"I don't have your money, sir." Eddie muttered. He shouldn't have bought that book, he never should have.

The father's outstretched hand shot forward the kid and grabbed ​​the child's face, squeezing it between his fingers.

"What the fuck did you do with my money?"

"I'm sorry" the boy murmured as tears formed in his eyes.

"What the fuck did you do with them!?" He raised his voice, his hand still gripping Eddie's face, probably going to have a bruise the next day.

"I-I bought a book." He finally breathed.

"A book?" the father asked, his bloodshot eyes staring into the boy's.

Eddie nodded and before he could understand what was happening his father's hand had left his face and the other, clenched in a fist, reached his face.

Eddie's vision blurred as the punch hit his cheekbone and sent him to the ground.

His head was throbbing and his ears were ringing but he still understood what his father said before disappearing into the bedroom.

"Next time remember not to spend my money on bullshit."

Eddie curled up on the living room floor as he began to sob, one cheek resting on the cold floor as the other felt like on fire.

He stayed there until the sun came up.

1982

Eddie was seventeen and hadn't lived with his father for several years, which was good, but people at school had started calling him "freak."

He pretended that it didn't bother him, that it didn't hurt him and everyone seemed to believe it.

They looked at him with contempt and disgust and Eddie honestly didn't even know why. Was it the way he dressed? Was it because he liked metal?

The jocks had started to bump on him on purpose when walking in the hallways making him drop whatever he was holding in his hands.

But he was already used to things like that.

1986

Eddie was twenty-one and trying to graduate, for the third time.

He was part of a band and at lunch he ate with the other Hellfire members, so he could tell he had found some friends.

But there was also something else. Someone. You.

He'd met you one night when you'd picked up the kids after a Hellfire campaign, complaining that you were sick of babysitting but greeting Dustin by ruffling his short, dark curls, showing that you weren't really mad at any of them.

The thing that surprised Eddie was that you introduced yourself shaking his hand, a common gesture that people did so often but which happened to him so seldom.

He had never told anyone that that gesture had made him feel more "human" and less "freak" than he had ever felt during the last years of his life.

Since that day, every time you went to pick up the kids after a campaign you stayed there a bit more just to talk to him, sitting on a bench outside the school for a few minutes, and Eddie thought it was really weird for him that sometimes he almost wished the game would end soon, to see you again.

You were kind, you were not scared to be around him and you always managed to make him smile.

Sometimes your leg brushed his as you talked and Eddie felt a weird sensation in the pit of his stomach but he couldn't quite figure out what it was.

He liked having you close, he liked when your hand brushed his, when your shoulder touched his or when you put a hand on his arm as you burst out laughing at something stupid he said.

And every time he felt something weird, simultaneously feeling the urge to pull away from you, not to let him touch him the way you did, and the urge to push you closer to him, to grab your hand with his and intertwine his fingers with yours or put an arm around your shoulders.

Another thing that amazed Eddie is that at school you would greet him every time you saw him in the hallways, even just with a simple "hey", but you did it every time. He didn't expect you to want others to associate you with him but it looked like you didn't care.

It was when you gave him a hug, one day, that he realized he was completely screwed, because he liked you. He liked you in a way he'd never liked anyone before and didn't know what to do.

"I knew you could do it!"

It was stupid to be so happy for him since it was his third time taking that math test and it wouldn't alone determine the final result of the year but when you threw your arms around his neck, Eddie felt his heart burn in his chest.

He placed his hand on your back and as he held you close, he found himself burying his face in your hair, breathing in your perfume and hoping that moment would never end.

When you walked away Eddie wanted to pull you against him again but you said you were late for art class and ran away before he could say anything.

Eddie stood in the empty hallway for a few moments, trying to sort out his thoughts, trying to figure out what was happening to him.

His thoughts led him to the last time he had had human contact that wasn't any kind of violence. He finally came to the conclusion that you were the first person in many years, or perhaps for the first time in his life, who offered him a gentle touch.

His uncle wasn't one to physically show affection beyond a pat on the back once in a while and his mom probably gave him a hug once or twice when Eddie was four.

That was all.

The rest were just things Eddie preferred to forget.

And now that you had shown Eddie how a hug, or even just a touch, from someone he loved made him feel, he didn't want that feeling to end.

Fuck, he thought locking his locker with the intention of skipping biology class, he was really screwed.

"Thanks for the ride," Dustin said as you got out of your car in the school parking lot.

"You're lucky I have to drive past your house anyway." You rolled your eyes.

"I swear I'm going by bike tomorrow." He said as you walked side by side towards the school.

"Hey" you nudged him lightly "it's okay. I'm just kidding. You know I can give you a ride every day if you need it."

A huge smile appeared on Dustin's face but before he could say something his gaze met the crowd of people gathered in a sort of circle in front of the school. Some shouted, others cheered and laughed.

"What the hell?" You asked before walking towards the crowd with quick steps, followed by Dustin.

When you arrived, it looked like the show was already over.

You shouldered some students to get a glimpse of what was going on. In the center of the circle, Jason Carver was talking agitatedly with a teacher.

"He started it! I just defended myself!" Jason practically yelled at the teacher as he tried to calm him down.

"That's enough. You know very well that fights are not allowed in this school."

Fights?

"I know. And like I said, it wasn't my fault. I didn't start it." He replied confidently.

Liar. Jason was always the first to start a fight.

"As soon as you got here, Mr. Jones, he ran away. It's obviously his fault and he knows it too." Jason's tone was filled with anger and contempt.

Only at that moment you noticed the blood stain on Jason's white shirt, even though he didn't seem to be hurt.

The professor looked around. "What are you all still doing here? Everyone go to class!"

The crowd around Jason and the teacher began to dissipate and most of the students walked away.

"Mr. Jones, you don't understand!" Jason exclaimed dramatically, "that freak has to pay for what he did."

As you heard that word you turned to Dustin and your worried gazes met.

"Eddie." You both said at the same time.

You'd decided your history class could wait and you started looking all over the school for Eddie, you had told Dustin that if you found him, you'd let him know.

After checking out the music room as well, one of the few classes Eddie really liked you figured that if he wasn't inside school then he must have been out.

You looked around hoping that no teacher would see you sneaking out and you went out the back door.

You found Eddie sitting on the ground, his back against the school wall, his head down.

"Hey." You announced your presence slowly walking towards him.

Eddie's head snapped up.

"Holy shit." That was all you could say.

The right side of his face was covered in blood from a cut on his forehead and around his barely open eye was a dark purplish bruise. There were marks on her cheek, as if his face had been pressed into the ground and there was also a small wound on his lower lip.

"It's nothing, really. I'm fine." He said avoiding your gaze. "I've had worse."

"It doesn't look like nothing to me." You squatted down in front of him and wondered if his eyes were watering from physical pain or for some other reason. Up close his face looked in even worse shape and the urge to kill Jason with your own hands escalated to extreme levels. What did he do to his pretty face?

"C'mon, let's go clean up and disinfect the wounds, mh?" You said getting up and holding out a hand to help him getting up.

He stared at it for a moment.

"Trust me. There's no one in the infirmary now." You said.

Finally he grabbed it and got up, his hand was warm against yours.

You pushed the door again and entered the school, you were still holding his hand as you guided him towards the infirmary.

"It will hurt a little." You said soaking a cotton ball in the disinfectant and approaching Eddie, who was sitting on a cot.

"You're missing a class because of this" He said "I can do it myself."

You shrugged, "I really don't like history. Too many dates." Then you focused on his face.

You gently placed a hand on his left cheek to keep his face still and placed the cotton on the wound on his forehead, which fortunately had stopped bleeding.

You expected him to flinch, you knew how much it could hurt, instead he just closed his eyes and leaned into the touch of your hand. He seemed calm.

You finished disinfecting his forehead and pushed his hair behind his ear to clean the blood that had stained his temple.

His eyes were still closed, his hand still gently resting on the side of his face as you disinfected his cheekbone and lower lip.

"All done" you said putting down the blood stained cotton, moving your hands from his face and noting that he already looked much better than before "are you okay?"

Eddie opened his eyes again and his chocolate brown orbs silently stared at you with a look that was very reminiscent of the one of a puppy.

"Eddie." You called to him again, trying to figure out what was going on, then you felt something brush your fingers and you looked down.

His ringed hand had met yours. You watched as he slowly brought it back to his face, not saying a word.

You ran your thumb up his cheek and he seemed to relax as you did it.

"Thank you" he whispered "I like it when you do that."

"When I do what?" You asked.

"Your touch. I like it when you touch me." He muttered.

"Oh Eds." You brought your lips to his forehead for a kiss and then to his cheekbone, just below the bruise, barely brushing his skin trying to be as gentle as possible.

Then you slowly wrapped your arms around him, pushing his body against yours, being careful not to hurt him. He rested his head on your shoulder and his hands gripped the fabric of your shirt in an almost desperate way, as if he didn't want you to leave him.

You held him as you stroked his back and left a few kisses in his dark hair.

You realized that his reaction was probably caused by the fact that he hadn't received much affection in his life and your heart ached at the thought.

He didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve all the awful things that happened in his life.

When you heard the bell announcing the end of first period, Eddie lifted his head and gently pushed you away from him.

"You should really go now."

You cupped his face but with one hand on his neck to avoid touching the wounds and you gently placed your lips on his cheek, on his jaw and then again on his forehead and temple.

"I love you so much, Eddie Munson, never forget that." You said then and he couldn't help but push you back in towards him for a hug.

"I love you too." he whispered.

You knew you weren't talking about that kind of love, not yet. And that was fine, for now.

You reached into his hair and dug your fingers into his curls, your nails scratching his scalp.

"You know what? I already skipped the first period, I don't think it will be a problem to take a day off. We can stay here a bit more."

He just pulled you closer.

[minnieminshi]

Hii

So what about boyfriend Seungcheol who gifts reader books from her wishlist and then she realizes that conveniently he always knows the book she wants

Like she suspects that it isn’t a coincidence but still she doesn’t know how he knows 🤭

Stop bcs that's such a cute little thing to do :((( Warnings: none besides one mention of getting tackled lol

Wishlist Love

Wc: 534

“Another gift? Cheol this is like the third one this month,” you pout as you take the bag from your boyfriend’s hands, already knowing what’s inside. He simply smiles as he leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Sorry about that, but you know I love spoiling you,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. 

You roll your eyes but there’s no malice behind it, you know how Seungcheol gets when you try denying that you don’t deserve everything that he’s bought you over the months you’ve been together. The one time you said that you didn’t deserve all that he’s gotten you he gently tackled you onto your couch, smothering you in kisses until you recanted your sentence, finally accepting your fate of your boyfriend coming to your apartment, gift in hand. 

As of late, however, you noticed a trend in the gifts he would get you. Originally they were normal things, like your favorite treats from the cafe near your apartment, maybe some jewelry he thought would look nice in your collection, or some outfits he’d thought would look pretty on you. Lately, he’d buy you books, which you loved of course, it’s just after the fifth book he’s bought, you realized something. 

All the books he’s gotten you were all on your wishlist of books you wanted to read, and that’s all great, except you never shared the list with Seungcheol.  

You never shared that list with anyone in fact, so how he knew which book to get you, was beyond you. He even buys you the book you’re especially wanting to read that month, putting a star by its name on the sticky note you keep on your desk of all the books you want to read. Hell, half the time you forget where you keep the sticky note, so if he knows where it is, he does a better job at remembering than you do. 

You open the bag to see the book you’ve been wanting to read since the author announced a sequel in the works a year ago. You let out a small gasp before looking up to see him watching for your reaction, a bashful smile on his face. 

“I know you’ve been waiting for the sequel for a while and when I saw that it was finally out, I knew I had to get it for you,” he muttered, his cheeks an adorable shade of pink as you ran your pointer finger through the pages of the book, still in a bit of awe of having the book in your had as well the fact that he remembered. 

How he always knows what book to get you doesn’t matter to you, all that matters to you is the fact he knows you so well, and he wants to treat you like this just because. You put the book down and wrap your arms around his neck, “thank you Cheol, I love you.” 

He smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist, “of course, I love you too.” And he hopes you don’t mind him always checking your desk to see if you’ve updated your wishlist so he can keep surprising you like this.

[flickerintwilights]

Linktober days 21/22: SPIRIT/FAVORITE CHARACTER

rated T for potentially disturbing imagery / totk backstory headcanon / 527 words

A/N: a real inspiration for the Zonai extinction backstory comes from some lore and art of @/proxycrit's Familiar Familiar AU, specifically THIS entry containing a flashback to Rauru and Mineru as children/the last of their kind. This is a different story but I took some aesthetic and emotional inspiration. I also want to recommend the AU in general because it's wonderful and has been a light to my life.

Mineru had always known that she would be the shadow of the two of them. It started, really, when all the others died. She had heard soft footsteps behind the stone walls. It was the early hours of the morning and tiny feathers of light were beginning to dab through the window carvings, and the open door to the right, which he was approaching. 

read below the cut

Mineru had always known that she would be the shadow of the two of them. It started, really, when all the others died. She had heard soft footsteps behind the stone walls. It was the early hours of the morning and tiny feathers of light were beginning to dab through the window carvings, and the open door to the right, which he was approaching. 

This was one of many quarantine rooms and the last one where any ill Zonai would haul in, grating, the barest inch of breath. Their name was Esaku. She had dragged their spirit out of the ruined confines of their body, and they had looked at her like she was the dead one. Bewildered, released of a body they no longer knew how to recognize, their spirit fragmented, dissolved in tiny slivers of tealish light — down through the stone floor, down and down and down on its long journey to the shadowed underside of the world.  

She had been huddled on the floor amid the stone tables, upon which were laid the corpses. They were miasma-ridden, leeching an ugly red like their arteries had been twisted out from under their skin and strewn across their bones, and their blood had been turned to tar. Her blood was leaden in her veins. She had not gone all this time tending at first to the ill, then to the twisted souls of the dying, without its claws poring too into her skin. But she was alive and the eldest of all who were left — only two. And her brother was tiptoeing down the hall, wondering at the silence and the earliness of the morning, stifling his nose with one hand against the stench and miasma that hung in the air. 

Mineru had risen and drawn gray sheets over the dead, her hands quivering, her body not yet entirely hers again. She remembers clearly that Rauru peeked his head into the room before she could fully cover one of the bodies, and he might have seen a tangle of warped limbs or the wide-open third eye, its rim gnawed upon and a once-golden iris cracked dry. But over the sheet went. She had stood uncertainly and looked at him. He had met her eyes, the light behind him tracing his outline and casting a long shadow ahead that almost could touch her feet. That had been one terrifying moment when she thought he might have realized, truly, as much as she did, how much they had lost. She imagined him exploding like a dying star and the entire island, the entire world, their books and their magic and their dead being swallowed into a blazing brilliance of white. But then water had welled up in his eyes and he had whimpered, “Mimi, please come to the surface with me. I told the construct to wait for us.” 

Who could she have been to say no? Certainly not his sister. She followed behind him out into the light and left their dead behind. But a part of them came with her, stuck onto the wear and tear of her spirit, and she was the only one of them to look back.